#also i have never ONCE piped multiple colors in one tip before so that was fun and also obnoxious

[densewentz]

Sneak peek of 2 of my 4 dozen Halloween Cupcakes 🍓🌿

[falseroar]

Treasure Hunt

((Dark goes digging for old memories, with some “help.” Nothing serious and not related to anything, just something short I wrote on my phone while my computer was out of service to keep up with my daily word count goal. I was going to post this yesterday, but, eh...*gestures vaguely at all that nonsense*))

“Are you going to bury a body?”

Dark stopped in his tracks and glanced over his shoulder at Wilford, the movement putting the shovel’s blade on his other shoulder perilously close to his cheek. “No, I am not. Unlike you, I don’t have a ready supply of those to hand.”

“What, you mean Jerry? Eh, he’s fine, he’ll walk it off,” Wilford said with a flippant wave of his hand. While it was true that his latest victim had survived, Dark silently thought he would not be walking off a bullet to the knee anytime soon. “So, what are you doing? Ooh, is it a treasure hunt? I can grab that new guy with the hat, turn it into a real bonding moment between the three of us, and we can let him walk in front in case there are any traps! Fantastic, I’ll go grab him right now!”

“No, Wilford, it’s not a treasure hunt.” Not in the strictest sense of the word, but his tone was at least enough to stop Wilford before he could go running off. “I’m just...It’s past time I checked on something. Don’t worry about it.”

“Why would I worry?” Wilford asked, falling into step behind Dark. He tapped his fingers against his mustache and remarked, “Not really sure I can remember the last time I worried about anything. Everything always just sort of works itself out in the end, you know?”

“I know,” Dark said, while he thought, “I know you think that’s how it works.”

But he just said, “I’ll be back later tonight.”

With that, Dark stepped out of the front door of the house and disappeared into the shadow that surrounded him, an ear-piercing ring growing and then immediately stopping the moment the shadow faded from sight. Wilford blinked and then shrugged, muttering to himself about making his own treasure hunt.

When Dark stepped out of the shadows, it was to find himself standing in the bright light of an early summer day, the sun adding some of the color back to his faded skin as he studied the remains of the manor in front of him for a moment.

He had no intention of going inside, of course, not today. No, his path took him around the perimeter of the overgrown yard, past hedges that had extended out to do battle with the lemon grass and the flowers that had escaped their beds in a bid to spread far and wide, the unmanaged plants all doing battle to gain supremacy over the neglected lawns. He had to pause multiple times and study the distance from the house, comparing the windows to the tree lines and the cracked and faded giant chessboard until he finally found the statue, its surface stained and worn until the face was practically a blank slate, one of its spread wings broken at the tip.

It looked smaller than he remembered too, but then a lot of things did.

Dark circled the statue once, taking in what time and weather had done to it, before he turned his back on it and began counting under his breath in time with each step.

“9...10.”

Dark stopped at a patch of grass and weeds no different than any other in the immediate area and raised the shovel he had borrowed from the shed the Author once used so regularly.

“You’re standing in the wrong spot.”

Dark stumbled, his attempt to stop the shovel mid-swing causing him to lose his balance. He swore under his breath and glared at Mark, wondering when he got here. “What would you know about it?”

“Only that a kid’s step doesn’t go as far as an adult’s.” Mark, dressed in shorts and a t-shirt that better matched the weather than Dark’s ever present suit, strolled over to the statue and stopped at the same place Dark started his counting to look up at its face. “Hello, baby.”

“I thought you hated statues.”

“Oh, I do. If that thing goes weeping angel on us, I will absolutely leave you here to die.” Mark grinned. “I didn’t think you’d remember, but considering where you’re standing, I guess you didn’t. Watch this, each step was more like...”

Mark looked down, carefully counting out each step that he shortened to the point that when he reached 10, he was barely halfway to where Dark stood. “See what I mean?”

“What I see is someone who doesn’t remember insisting on taking giant steps,” Dark said, resting the blade of the shovel against the ground as he leaned on the handle. “You practically skipped from there to here.”

“I have never skipped! And I can prove it, because unlike someone, I actually came prepared. Tactical shovel, which is clearly superior to a regular shovel—“

“Putting a knife on it doesn’t make everything better.”

“Says you. And a metal detector,” Mark continued, showing off both instruments that he’d been carrying. “Watch and learn.”

Mark flipped the switch on the detector and paused, before flipping it again when there was no response.

“Did you actually put batteries in it?”

“Of course I put batteries in it!” Mark glared at Dark’s smirk and opened the battery compartment. There was just a brief pause before he continued, “Give me a minute.”

By the time Mark came back with a working metal detector, Dark had already removed his jacket and hung it on one of the angel’s outstretched arms, his shirtsleeves rolled up to his elbows as he dug.

“It’s the wrong place, I’m telling you,” Mark warned as he began to run the metal detector over the ground, but Dark ignored him and continued to dig.

Mark started at the statue and began to walk out, the crackle of the detector leading him past where he stopped and all the way to where Dark stood, a smug smirk on his face as the beeping grew louder and louder until it reached the hole he had already started.

“Well, are you going to start digging or not?” Dark asked.

Only because the hole wasn’t deep enough to push him into it yet, or at least that was Mark’s irritated thought as he tossed the metal detector aside and picked up his tactical shovel.

They tried to pass the time in silence, but before long it turned to bickering about who was doing more work and if “you spilled dirt on my side of the hole” and if there even was a “my side” when they were digging in the same place, but eventually Mark’s shovel hit metal. Both men looked at each other and then back down again as Mark hit it again with a loud clang that...didn’t actually sound right, now that they thought about it.

Dark knelt, careful not to let his knees actually touch the ground, and brushed the loose dirt away as Mark bent down next to him, both having just enough time to realize the rusted metal was that of a pipe before it broke open, unleashing a brief but sour spray of stagnant water into both of their faces.

After that, they found a different yet suspiciously similar statue on the other side of the yard, and a pink-mustached man waiting for them, standing on the plinth with his arm wrapped around the statue’s shoulder like they were an old friend, beaming when he noticed them.

“Well, there you two are! I was starting to wonder, you know.”

“Wait, you knew where I was going?” Dark asked. “Then why did you pretend not to know?”

“Know what?” Wilford gave the statue a peck on the cheek and leapt down onto the grass beside them. “Well, are you two just going to stand around here, or are we going to open this thing?”

He held out a dirty, banged-up tin case, the rust on its hinges doing more to keep it shut than the cheap lock used all those years ago.

Mark looked down and around, noting the lack of holes or any sign of a shovel or other digging instrument as he asked, “How did you get that?”

Wilford stared at him, mildly puzzled as he asked, “What, like it was hard?”

Mark’s tactical shovel dealt with the lock easily, and also left a gash in the side of the box that earned him a glare from Dark that he tried to ignore as he forced open the box to reveal its contents: a set of envelopes, childish handwriting addressing each to Mark, Damien, and William, a tiny metal soldier that Wilford picked up with a smile along with a few other old-fashioned toys, and a faded photograph that Mark lifted out gently, as though afraid it might fall apart in his hands.

Dark looked over his shoulder at the three boys posed for the camera, laughing with their arms thrown around each other. He felt a stir in his chest, a brief flicker of something that faded into a sad nostalgia.

He wondered if Mark thought the same thing, about how none of those three boys were still here, not really. Not after everything they had gone through, after what they had done and attempted to atone for, whatever that might be worth now. Dark had no illusions about what little Damien might think of him, the dark figure of noise and ringing and strange shadows that followed his every movement. Did Mark feel the same way? And what of Wilford, did he even recognize the three young faces smiling back at them?

Dark glanced at him and found Wilford smiling as he pulled an old compass that, surprisingly, still turned in his hand alongside a crinkly map drawn in what looked suspiciously like crayon. There was a twinkle in Wilford’s eye as he asked, “Do you two know where this leads?”

Mark looked at the map and frowned, while Dark shook his head and admitted, “I don’t recall making a map.”

“Well then, I suppose there’s only one way to find out.”

Wilford jumped to his feet, nearly knocking the time capsule out of Mark’s hands as he pulled the two of them up with him. “Who’s ready for round two of this treasure hunt?”

Mark closed the box and tucked it under his arm, then hefted his shovel with a look at Dark that he actually could understand.

“We did come all the way for this, might as well see what else is here, right?”

Dark sighed, feigning indifference as he said, “Well, I didn’t have anything else planned today...”

“Fantastic!” Wilford grinned and spread out the map so they could look. With any luck, neither of them would notice the crayons stashed in his back pocket, or how the map they were studying didn’t look quite as old as it should have.

[dancingazaleas]

bertholdt hoover | mc donald’s

HELPLPPPP i love he 🥺 i love he so much

sorry if this was trash :-(( i was rlly sleepy when i wrote this. pls enjoy

warnings/notes: cursing, modern au, highschool au, bertholdt, reiner, marcel, and reader are seniors, porco is a junior, reader is marcel’s twin, bert is ambidextrous (my headcanon), hard pining, bert’s a music prodigy, female reader

when you meet him, it was at your house on a friday night.

porco and marcel had decided to have their obnoxious and messy friend group over at the house while your parents were away for the weekend doing god knows what.

you were just annoyed that your mom said their friends could come over.

it wasn’t that they were inheritaly bad people, it was just that they were overly loud and, somehow, always forgot to pick up their shit before they left. you’d always get your ass chewed out by your mom for it too.

you also hated going downstairs whenever they were there. if marcel or porco caught even a glimpse of you, they would pester you to play a round of super smash bros and wii sports with them and the group. whenever the two of them started to pester, usually reiner would join in until you would cave. reiner was annoying when it game to game nights.

so, you sat upstairs in your room trying to go to sleep and drown out their laughter and yelling, but you couldn’t. they were too fucking loud.

you texted both porco and marcel angrily, telling them ‘shut your fucking mouths i cant fucking sleep’. you concluded that they were too distracted to notice your texts when they continued to yell and laugh. you scoffed and decided that you’d just try to scroll through social media and rant to ymir over text.

30 minutes had passed and the group downstairs showed no signs of quieting down and you were starting to get hungry. so with a sigh, you made your way downstairs towards your kitchen with the intention of finding pizza flavored goldfish in mind.

you were glad you weren’t noticed when you passed by the living room, that meant no pizza flavored goldfish. you opened the door to the pantry only to find cereal, protein powder and bars, porco and marcel’s chips, and the food your mom and dad ate.

this meant they had used your food for this get together. you groaned loudly and slammed the door to the pantry shut. the echo of it immediately silenced the large group in the living room, which held your next homicide victims.

you stomped into the room, irritation written all over your face as you looked at your brothers, who were hugging each other in fear.

“first, you ignore my texts asking you to shut your big fucking mouths. then, you decided death when you chose to serve your friends my food.” the two teenage boys nodded wearily.

with a battle scream, you jumped over the coffee table and on top of them on the leather couch, fists swinging. they shrieked in fear, scrambling under your weight to get away as everyone else in the room laughed at the scene.

you sat on porco’s back, the main offender, and held his head up by digging your thumbs into the bones of his eyebrows.

“porco, if you want me off of your’s and marcel’s ass in the next week; you better drive me to fucking mc donald’s, get me food, and pay for it!!! deal?!” you shouted at him, kicking away the hand that was reaching around to shove you away.

he slammed him palm onto the couch two times, “okay, okay!!! deal!! now get your ass off of me!!!”

you let go of his face and got off of him, but not without giving him a hard slap to the side of the head.

reiner hooted and clapped his large hands together, “another wrestling victory for (name)!!!”

everyone laughed a little, and you did a little bow before plopping down next to pieck, a college student you met in junior year while she was a senior who you were actually quite close with.

“how do you always manage to get your ass kicked by (name) everytime we come here,” zeke, another friend you’d met in junior year while he was in his senior year, snickered at the misery of porco.

“ha ha,” porco gave a monotone laugh, “leave me alone old man.”

“porco, where’s my mc donalds,” you sang and watched marcel roll his eyes a little.

“(name), it’s 11 o’clock at night. i’m not going to get you fucking mc donalds,” porco snapped but cowered away when you made the slight movement of getting up onto your feet.

“bertholdt’ll drive ‘em!” reiner piped up and everyone turned to said bert.

you felt yourself getting flustered when you took a look at bertholdt. he was tall and lean guy cowering in the corner of your couch with dark red cheeks as he stared back at you. his hair was a dark brown and he had the prettiest light jade colored eyes with a hooked nose right between them.

“oh...,” you were stunned, which was a uncommon occurrence, and felt like it was just you and him, “yeah... i’m down. i don’t think we’ve met before.”

bertholdt gave a shy nod and stood up for the couch, and you noticed just how tall he was. before you could make a step towards him however, porco jumped to his feet and got between you.

“nope! changed my mind! get in the tr—,” you shoved him back onto the couch next to marcel, who had a small and gentle smile.

“bert’s gonna get some,” pieck teased with a giggle as she poked at your sides from her seat.

you laughed bashfully and slapped her hands away, telling bertholdt that you were ready to leave when he was. pieck seized her attacks when you followed after bertholdt when he made his way to your front door.

“don’t forget to use protection,” annie shouted nonchalantly, the whole room bursting into laughter.

after that, both you and bertholdt hurried to get out of the house and into his car.

which led you to now, sitting in the parking lot of the sketchy and dingy mc donald’s eating and talking.

“wait, so when reiner...,” you chew while laughing, “told you marcel had a twin, you thought it was a prank?”

bertholdt chuckles shyly and nods, “yeah. i just.. i never saw you around cause no one pointed you out when we were at school. reiner would do stuff like that ever since we were kids.”

you shake your head with a smile, “so, why’d you decide to transfer to titan high just a couple weeks ago?”

bertholdt thinks for a second, “better music program. reiner mentioned something about it to me once, so then i did my own research. titan has multiple opportunities for their students to get a chance at getting scholarships to prestigious universities for fine arts by competing. also, all my friends are here.”

your heart swells as the way bertholdt eyes shine as he speaks of the music program, so much that you forget to answer for a second.

“oh! so, what instrument do you play?”

“uhm... i play the cello, violin, viola, double bass,” he pauses, “i’m learning the harp, piano, lyre, and the guitar.”

you gape at him, “so you’re a prodigy?!”

he blushes and gives a small shrug, “i’ve never really considered myself as such... but i guess by definition i am.”

“th-then why the hell are you going to titan high?!”

“i still wanted to be a normal kid. my dad put me in public schools with decent music programs so i could still play. my favorites are the piano and the cello.”

“hold out your hand for a second,” you request, to which he obliges.

you take it into your own hand, eyes scanning over the palm of his massive hand. his fingers are worn and he has a writer’s bump on his middle finger despite it being his left hand. he has a bandaid on his pinky finger and the tips of his fingers are a flushed red as well as his knuckles. his nails are perfectly even and trimmed and you notice a scar on his thenar stretching to his radial longtitude crease. you run the tip of your finger over the scar, ignoring how bertholdt flinches at the contact.

bertholdt’s blushing and he feels like he’s going to pass out on the spot. the only other girls he’s been this close to were pieck, annie and his friend ymir, who all have girlfriends.

but then bertholdt feels the soft skin of your lips gently kissing at the scar on his hand with your eyes closed. his heart races and it feels like it’s beating out of his chest.

bert’s pretty sure he can see black dots in his vision.

you look him in the eyes now, “i know we haven’t known each other for that long, but you’re really beautiful, bert.”

bertholdt flushed cheeks turn pale as he faints.

[to-be-a-dreamer]

Ok ok so Crutchie ♒️🔆☮️

Ahh my boy!!! Alright hang on I gotta figure out what the symbols are for.

OH okay these are fun

Cooking/Food

I think he loves making cakes and cookies and stuff like that, but only the decorating part. The mixing and rolling and "actual baking" is alright but he'd rather let someone else cook the stuff and just come in at the end to make little frosting flowers and do pretty lettering. His cabinets are full of fancy piping tips, no less than a dozen different food coloring colors, a turn table for cake decorating, all that good stuff. Yet, this man does not own a rolling pin. Also, his toaster is older than he is. That's unrelated to the previous stuff, but it just feels right.

As for actual food, I think he has about a dozen different meals that he knows how to make without looking up a recipe and just cycles between them over the course of a few weeks. (Plus, like, sandwiches and canned soups and salads and stuff like that, I mean a dozen hot meals that involve multiple pots and pans and mixing and stuff) He occasionally tries a new recipe, but he knows what he likes and he knows his abilities. He gets all the nutrients and calories he needs and can splurge on take out if nothing he knows how to make sounds good.

His go-to dish for thanksgiving and Christmas and other gatherings is macaroni and cheese, the kind with more cheese than macaroni, and cracker crumbs sprinkled on top

Appearance

Oooh okay this is a fun one because I never really think about appearance. When I just think of Crutchie, I picture AKB but when I write him I don't think I do. I'd say he's on the shorter side, but not remarkably short, just under the average hight for someone his age. Kinda skinny, but still decently strong. I guess Zachary Sayle’s build? Idk this is why I’m not an fanartist, I don’t know what people look like. I usually write him as having dirty blonde hair, and I think he keeps it short, neat, and well-kept, but tries out new styles every once in a while.

His clothing style really just depends on the AU. He always likes bright colors, but he keeps it to one item per outfit that’s colorful or has a fun pattern, the rest is pretty neutral. So like, a simple pair of jeans and a plain white t-shirt but then just a bright yellow button-up with flamingos on it. And funky socks. So many funky socks, but he especially loves the kind that look like normal socks until you take your shoes off and they look absolutely ridiculous.

I also typically write him as walking with crutches most of the time, but occasionally using leg braces, or a wheelchair if he needs it. I picture him using forearm crutches and they’re probably blue and there’s probably stickers on them.

Depending on the AU, he has pierced ears and mostly wears simple studs. They all look the same from a distance, but he actually has dozens of pairs in various different colors that he matches to his outfits. I also wrote several paragraphs on tattoos I think he would have in my Against Fate’s Design AU so you can read that here if you want.

Friendship

Besties with Jack, obviously. I always write them as having been best friends for several years before the story takes place, or being brothers if it fits the plot. It sometimes switches between which of them is older, but their dynamic is always the same. They look out for each other and aren’t afraid to call the other out when they’re being stupid (Jack needs to get slapped with reality more often than Crutchie, that man is such a himbo he’s becoming a hazard to society)

Also pretty close with Race (especially when I write them as brothers) and their personalities just match each other so well. They both make jokes a lot but Race is usually big and loud while Crutchie is deadpan and sarcastic. So oftentimes Race will make a joke to the whole room, Crutchie will mutter something beside him, and then Race becomes incomprehensible with laughter for several minutes. Crutchie always refuses to repeat what he said and Race can never keep a straight face long enough to say it.

But beyond those two, I think him, David, and Katherine would be a great trio. They’re all the “smart and responsible” ones in their own ways, but when they’re left alone together, every single brain cell within a ten-mile-radius just disappears. You think the Race/Al/Finch trio are a menace? When they get left alone without supervision they come back with a dozen baby chicks and a goldfish. When Crutchie, Davey, and Katherine are left alone together something ends up broken, on fire, blown up, or all three in the name of science. AKA: One of them asked the other two “what would happen if we broke, burned, and/or blew up this random household object?” The answer is chaos, just always chaos.

[boreothegoldfinch]

chapter 12 paragraph viii

Only here’s what I really, really want someone to explain to me. What if one happens to be possessed of a heart that can’t be trusted—? What if the heart, for its own unfathomable reasons, leads one willfully and in a cloud of unspeakable radiance away from health, domesticity, civic responsibility and strong social connections and all the blandly-held common virtues and instead straight towards a beautiful flare of ruin, self-immolation, disaster? Is Kitsey right? If your deepest self is singing and coaxing you straight toward the bonfire, is it better to turn away? Stop your ears with wax? Ignore all the perverse glory your heart is screaming at you? Set yourself on the course that will lead you dutifully towards the norm, reasonable hours and regular medical check-ups, stable relationships and steady career advancement, the New York Times and brunch on Sunday, all with the promise of being somehow a better person? Or—like Boris—is it better to throw yourself head first and laughing into the holy rage calling your name? It’s not about outward appearances but inward significance. A grandeur in the world, but not of the world, a grandeur that the world doesn’t understand. That first glimpse of pure otherness, in whose presence you bloom out and out and out. A self one does not want. A heart one cannot help. Though my engagement isn’t off, not officially anyway, I’ve been given to understand—gracefully, in the lighter-than-air manner of the Barbours—that no one is holding me to anything. Which is perfect. Nothing’s been said and nothing is said. When I’m invited for dinner (as I am, often, when I’m in town) it’s all very pleasant and light, voluble even, intimate and subtle while not at all personal; I’m treated like a family member (almost), welcome to turn up when I want; I’ve been able to coax Mrs. Barbour out of the apartment a bit, we’ve had some pleasant afternoons out, lunch at the Pierre and an auction or two; and Toddy, without being impolitic in the least, has even managed to let casually and almost accidentally drop the name of a very good doctor, with no suggestion whatever that I might possibly need such a thing.

[As for Pippa: though she took the Oz book, she left the necklace, along with a letter I opened so eagerly I literally ripped through the envelope and tore it in half. The gist—once I got on my knees and fit the pieces together— was this: she’d loved seeing me, our time in the city had meant a lot to her, who in the world could have picked such a beautiful necklace for her? it was perfect, more than perfect, only she couldn’t accept it, it was much too much, she was sorry, and—maybe she was speaking out of turn, and if so she hoped I forgave her, but I shouldn’t think she didn’t love me back, because she did, she did. (You do? I thought, bewildered.) Only it was complicated, she wasn’t thinking only of herself but me too, since we’d both been through so many of the same things, she and I, and we were an awful lot alike—too much. And because we’d both been hurt so badly, so early on, in violent and irremediable ways that most people didn’t, and couldn’t, understand, wasn’t it a bit… precarious? A matter of self-preservation? Two rickety and death-driven persons who would need to lean on each other quite so much? not to say she wasn’t doing well at the moment, because she was, but all that could change in a flash with either of us, couldn’t it? the reversal, the sharp downward slide, and wasn’t that the danger? since our flaws and weaknesses were so much the same, and one of us could bring the other down way too quick? and though this was left to float in the air a bit, I realized instantly, and with some considerable astonishment, what she was getting at. (Dumb of me not to have seen it earlier, after all the injuries, the crushed leg, the multiple surgeries; adorable drag in the voice, adorable drag in the step, the arm-hugging and the pallor, the scarves and sweaters and multiple layers of clothes, slow drowsy smile: she herself, the dreamy childhood her, was sublimity and disaster, the morphine lollipop I’d chased for all those years.)

But, as the reader of this will have ascertained (if there ever is a reader) the idea of being Dragged Down holds no terror for me. Not that I care to drag anyone else down with me, but—can’t I change? Can’t I be the strong one? Why not?] [You can have either of those girls you want, said Boris, sitting on the sofa with me in his loft in Antwerp, cracking pistachios between his rear molars as we were watching Kill Bill. No, I can’t. And why can’t you? I’d pick Snowflake myself. But if you want the other, why not? Because she has a boyfriend? So? said Boris. Who lives with her? So? And here’s what I’m thinking too: So? What if I go to London? So? And this is either a completely disastrous question or the most sensible one I’ve ever asked in all my life.] [That little guy, said Boris in the car on the way to Antwerp. You know the painter saw him—he wasn’t painting that bird from his mind, you know? That’s a real little guy, chained up on the wall, there. If I saw him mixed up with dozen other birds all the same kind, I could pick him out, no problem.] And he’s right. So could I. And if I could go back in time I’d clip the chain in a heartbeat and never care a minute that the picture was never painted. To try to make some meaning out of all this seems unbelievably quaint. Maybe I only see a pattern because I’ve been staring too long. But then again, to paraphrase Boris, maybe I see a pattern because it’s there. [Do you ever think about quitting? I asked, during the boring part of It’s a Wonderful Life, the moonlight walk with Donna Reed, when I was in Antwerp watching Boris with spoon and water from an eyedropper, mixing himself what he called a “pop.” Give me a break! My arm hurts! He’d already shown me the bloody skid mark—black at the edges—cutting deep into his bicep. You get shot at Christmas and see if you want to sit around swallowing aspirin! Yeah, but you’re crazy to do it like that. Well—believe it or not—for me not so much a problem. I only do it special occasions. I’ve heard that before. Well, is true! Still a chipper, for now. I’ve known of people chipped three-four years and been ok, long as they kept it down to two-three times a month? That said, Boris added somberly—blue movie light glinting off the teaspoon —I am alcoholic. Damage is done, there. I’m a drunk till I die. If anything kills me—nodding at the Russian Standard bottle on the coffee table—that’ll be it. Say you never shot before? Believe me, I had problems enough the other way. Well, big stigma and fear, I understand. Me—honest, I prefer to sniff most times—clubs, restaurants, out and about, quicker and easier just to duck in men’s room and do a quick bump. This way—always you crave it. On my death bed I will crave it. Better never to pick it up. Although—really very irritating to see some bone head sitting there smoking out of a crack pipe and make some pronouncement about how dirty and unsafe, they would never use a needle, you know? Like they are so much more sensible than you? Why did you start? Why does anyone? My girl left me! Girl at the time. Wanted to be all bad and self-destructive, hah. Got my wish. Jimmy Stewart in his varsity sweater. Silvery moon, quavery voices. Buffalo Gals won’t you come out tonight, come out tonight. So, why not stop then? I said. Why should I? Do I really have to say why? Yeah, but what if I don’t feel like it? If you can stop, why wouldn’t you? Live by the sword, die by the sword, said Boris briskly, hitting the button on his very professional-looking medical tourniquet with his chin as he was pushing up his sleeve.]

And as terrible as this is, I get it. We can’t choose what we want and don’t want and that’s the hard lonely truth. Sometimes we want what we want even if we know it’s going to kill us. We can’t escape who we are. (One thing I’ll have to say for my dad: at least he tried to want the sensible thing—my mother, the briefcase, me—before he completely went berserk and ran away from it.) And as much as I’d like to believe there’s a truth beyond illusion, I’ve come to believe that there’s no truth beyond illusion. Because, between ‘reality’ on the one hand, and the point where the mind strikes reality, there’s a middle zone, a rainbow edge where beauty comes into being, where two very different surfaces mingle and blur to provide what life does not: and this is the space where all art exists, and all magic. And—I would argue as well—all love. Or, perhaps more accurately, this middle zone illustrates the fundamental discrepancy of love. Viewed close: a freckled hand against a black coat, an origami frog tipped over on its side. Step away, and the illusion snaps in again: life-more-than-life, never-dying. Pippa herself is the play between those things, both love and not-love, there and not-there. Photographs on the wall, a balled-up sock under the sofa. The moment where I reached to brush a piece of fluff from her hair and she laughed and ducked at my touch. And just as music is the space between notes, just as the stars are beautiful because of the space between them, just as the sun strikes raindrops at a certain angle and throws a prism of color across the sky—so the space where I exist, and want to keep existing, and to be quite frank I hope I die in, is exactly this middle distance: where despair struck pure otherness and created something sublime.

And that’s why I’ve chosen to write these pages as I’ve written them. For only by stepping into the middle zone, the polychrome edge between truth and untruth, is it tolerable to be here and writing this at all. Whatever teaches us to talk to ourselves is important: whatever teaches us to sing ourselves out of despair. But the painting has also taught me that we can speak to each other across time. And I feel I have something very serious and urgent to say to you, my non-existent reader, and I feel I should say it as urgently as if I were standing in the room with you. That life—whatever else it is—is short. That fate is cruel but maybe not random. That Nature (meaning Death) always wins but that doesn’t mean we have to bow and grovel to it. That maybe even if we’re not always so glad to be here, it’s our task to immerse ourselves anyway: wade straight through it, right through the cesspool, while keeping eyes and hearts open. And in the midst of our dying, as we rise from the organic and sink back ignominiously into the organic, it is a glory and a privilege to love what Death doesn’t touch. For if disaster and oblivion have followed this painting down through time—so too has love. Insofar as it is immortal (and it is) I have a small, bright, immutable part in that immortality. It exists; and it keeps on existing. And I add my own love to the history of people who have loved beautiful things, and looked out for them, and pulled them from the fire, and sought them when they were lost, and tried to preserve them and save them while passing them along literally from hand to hand, singing out brilliantly from the wreck of time to the next generation of lovers, and the next.

[black-streak]

Saturday night's alright for fighting (but Sundays are meant for rest) - Dangerous Game Indeed

Part 4

Changing gears here for a moment. This part has no fluff. More character building than anything to set up the beginning of the next part, which should go back to being fluffy. Pretty sure I'm going to write their date next, but I felt it important to establish a few things early on. I promise if this gets you confused, the next part will explain what happened here better

~---~

So here's the thing about being a secret hero in a place teeming with vigilantes and villains. 

Being a bright red flash across the horizon doesn't work. 

Not that Marinette wouldn't love to zip across the high rise buildings by her yoyo, but it just wasn't a feasible option unless she wished to announce her presence to every person in the city. Seriously, Tikki, who does she think she is, Robin? One traffic light bright hero was enough.

That's how this… possibly unwise team up came to fruition. 

See, Mari planned to stay within the shadows, outta sight from the many bat people that stalked the rooftops at night, but like hell would she stay idle and complacent while Gotham suffered. So she waited and watched for quite some time before selecting her new miraculouses, eventually settling on the cat and fox combined. After all, chaos, destruction, and deceit work well together.

With her mind made up, she proceeded to plan out the costume and discuss how their powers were likely to combine; what to expect from this merge. The end result was magnificent. The bottomless-pit black bottoms were looser than anything she'd had before, wrapping tight in fabric bands only at the ankles and waist before shifting into a long sleeve shirt, just as free in the arms with the same tight bands at the wrists. The soft fabric draped across her chest, the front coming up to cover the bottom half of her face, the sides and back lifting up into a hood that covered her all the way to the eyes. Her gloves and hidden boots were a soot gray, indistinguishable in the dead of night and only barely of note in the day, with black claw tips and touch sensitive paw pads. Under the hood, her hair took on a more soot gray tone as well, black fluffy ears with gray insides just barely hinting out. A fluffy black tail with gray tip swished behind her. The colors were all Plagg while the design took more to Trixx. Her eyes however went into catlike slits of silver sclera and icy blue irises with what appeared to be black kohl ringing her eyes. Lastly, twin daggers tucked into the seams on her inner arms.

The first thing she discovered upon merging was that she became undetectable. Her movements made no sound nor did her breathing. She blended seamlessly with shadows and the night sky alike. People who looked in her direction would blink and discover it to be a trick of the light or assume it to be a delusion if they even saw her at all. It took concentration to push off the magic and allow others to see past the illusion. But she feared once it was gone, it'd be lost on that person forever. Sure, maybe they wouldn't notice her due to her own skill, but the magic would no longer protect her from them. So she didn't test it out. The next thing she realized was that her transformation didn't have much of a timer to detransform. Having worked with different kwamis for so long had built up a resistance to the strain. 

Secondly, she found their abilities didn't end at cataclysm and mirage. Funny thing about being in control of illusions and deceit; you could spot it in others from a mile away. Making villainous plans easier to tear apart without a charm. 

Plagg's… well Plagg's was different. As it turned out, death is simply an extension of destruction and while she had always known a poorly placed cataclysm could potentially end a life, she never expected this ability to sense death itself. She could feel when a place had seen too much or where it lurked heaviest in her vicinity. 

She could also sense when someone had been brushed with its weighted touch. Which had led to many tragic, heartbroken nights of research to discover why so many of the Waynes were smothered in it. From Jason disappearing for so long and being exposed to Kwami knows what. The potentially abusive upbringing of Damian by his mother who he refused to speak of. Bruce and his parents, murdered before his eyes. Tim losing his own parents and being around to bare witness to the many brushes of his adoptive family. Add on their secondary occupations and what it entailed and well, it was enough to know not to pry.

The first few transformations, she stayed docile, never engaging, silently observing the inner workings of the city. The next few, she branched out, interfering minor crimes with quick distractions and carefully curated traps. The criminals themselves would wake up outside the police station with evidence scattered about them and no memory of how they ended up there. Then a race against the clock would commence while they tried to gather everything thrown about them and run before any officers could take note and capture them. Mari took great pleasure in watching this part, sometimes binding their wrists or feet to add an extra element to their struggle.

The two kwamis truly brought out her more sly, volatile side.

Eventually it led to foiling larger scale villains when Batman seemed to be taking his own sweet time arriving to the scene. By the time he or one of his.. partners? Pupils? Kids? She never knew what he called them in costume... Well to whoever showed up, it would look like the plan collapsed within itself as though a few variables were forgotten or fell out of hand. 

The problem with starting to take action in a place like Gotham though is that no matter how much they can't prove your existence, the bats are bound to take notice. Because if they aren't the ones taking down these people, who is? 

That's how Mari found herself narrowly avoiding encounters on a weekly basis. Sure, no one spotted her yet, but tracking her location through found thugs she'd taken down moments before made for some close calls of almost physically being ran in to. Not sure how convincing of a pipe on a roof she could be if that were to happen. 

Add on her own animalistic instinct to hunt that led to many nights of stalking different vigilantes for hours on end, holding back the urge to pounce and well… it made for a dangerous game of cat and mouse. 

'Or rather, catfox and bird,' she thought, slowly inching along an edge wall of the roof where Red Robin laid in wait. 

Mari couldn't be sure how, but he seemed to have some sixth sense for looming figures. Either that or heaps worth of paranoia. Multiple times she'd had to hold deadly still while he whipped his head in her direction, staring her down. If it hadn't been for the magic whispering across her skin, Marinette was sure he'd have had her pinned within the first night of her stalking. As it stood, Red only stared quietly, eyes roving the area she kept to, only relenting when it seemed nothing would appear. 

Tonight… felt ominous. Marinette knew how dumb it was to purposefully follow Red, even more so while cleaning up the dock she had just vacated, leaving an unconscious scarecrow tied amongst his goons by crates worth of chemicals. Normally she wouldn't tie them up, but instead misconstrue things until it looked like an accident, confused weaker pawns wandering about, trying to collect their bosses only for the bats to find and finish up the job. However, her need to remain an unknown figure lost against the need for entertainment, so she made everything of her interference obvious, but left no trace of herself for Batman to find. 

Now she watched as Red stayed still upon the roof, clean up done and nothing left to do but think. She waited for pacing, frustration, anything. She received silence. 

How boring.

Of course... he knew it was her. 

Robin, Red Robin, and Agent A had all either figured it out or had been informed by herself. It was the rest of the family they kept in the dark, her unwilling to trust them with this yet and the three recognizing it as not their secret to tell.

Doesn't mean Red didn't take every opportunity to try and catch her slipping up.

Marinette could almost hear Plagg goading her to toy with the bird, Trixx right behind telling Mari to trust in the illusion. It would only break where she wanted it to. With that reassurance and no Tikki to reason with, Mari moved forward a touch, still completely hidden, but testing how well he sensed her. 

Immediately, he turned. She froze. Then remembering herself, she carefully focused on the magic about her before cautiously letting a huff of air out her mouth, just loud enough to pick up, but quiet enough to not immediately draw attention to her exact location.

It was enough.

"You're here." 

She met him with only silence for a moment then clicked her claws gently to confirm.

Zeroing in further, he took a step forward.

Sliding to his side, Mari carefully scuffed a boot and watched him follow her.

He seemed to assess the situation before turning back to where she was, allowing her to creep behind him. The tension in his shoulders let on to him knowing her actual location though. 

Of course she chose that moment to channel her inner idiot and play along. Tapping his shoulder in a clear indication of permission to turn around, as that seemed to be what he was waiting for, she hopped back into the shadows. It was obvious he was only showing passiveness to lure her into a sense of security enough to reveal herself. 

She knew this and yet as he turned to face her again, she focused into the magic, peeling it back until she knew her eyes alone glowed out at him from the dark.

She let him meet her eyes for only a half second before taking off, quickly blending into the night once more to the sound of curses from the next building over where Hood had been waiting to step in.

Maybe next time she would stalk Jason and see how he liked being watched.

[imnottiredofgettingoveryou]

Movie Night (Elliot Alderson x Reader)

This is a scene from a longer fic I’m working on, but it can just as easily be read as a one-shot. Totally not something I’m taking too seriously, just some humor and fluff. I had a lot of fun writing it so I thought I’d share. 

Also if you haven’t seen Network (1976) I recommend it! It’s in the National Film Registry for a reason!

Warnings: Swearing, marijuana use, kinda mature themes but no smut

Word count 1482

Now that he had taken the plunge once, Elliot didn't seem to have any qualms about participating in my stoned TV nights. It was bonkers how normal it felt without context. We could have been any cohabiting couple, couch-locked and spewing nonsense at each other on a Tuesday night, eyes like the Japanese flag. But we definitely weren't and I couldn't let myself forget that. I couldn't let my guard down, on multiple fronts.

That said, I really looked forward to these nights with him. Getting Elliot stoned and putting on some background noise was a shortcut to poking holes in his walls. Amongst the giggles and philosophizing, some small truth about him or I would be revealed, a brief kernel of intimacy, passed over and dismissed just as easily as it had emerged. I loved picking out movies and shows to watch with him, imagining the discussions they would prompt, wondering if any would lead to one of those rare moments when he and I just felt like people.

Tonight I had picked the movie Network, an oldie-but-a-goodie - and how had I waited this long? The more we watched it, the more I knew it was right up Elliot's alley. Crazy guy curses the Powers That Be on live TV? It was practically cheating. As we listened to Howard Beale rant about how 'television is a goddamned amusement park,' I couldn't resist teasing Elliot about his fave from Catcher in the Rye.

"You know, Howard Beale is just grown-up Holden Caulfield."

I didn't move my eyes from the screen, but out of my periphery I could see him give me exactly the look I was expecting, rolling his head toward me and communicating a telepathic 'what the fuck?'

"I'm serious," I implored. "Holden hates the movies, Howard hates TV. Coincidence? I think not."

I turned my head just enough to watch his mouth curl into a smile as he softly laughed. I could feel the little vibrations move through him, having elected to rest my calves in his lap. That was another benefit to disarming Elliot like this; he had seemed more receptive to light touches here and there - fingers brushing, thighs bookending. Tonight's escalation wasn't lost on me. I was dressed primarily for comfort (I told myself), wearing my softest t-shirt and gym shorts that bore the expanse of my legs. The feeling of Elliot's jeans against my bare thighs was whirring in the background of my thoughts. I wondered if it was on his mind too.

It was my turn to hit the bowl. I lit an untarnished patch near the edge, trying to leave some green for him. "You know," I rasped, exhaling a thick cloud of smoke, "the notion that the society we live in is the best version of itself is one of the biggest lies we've ever been convinced of."

I swear I had a whole entire idea in my head, but I was struggling a bit with the verbiage, my brain having downshifted a bit by this point. Elliot didn't look disinterested, so I continued.

"Like we think that because we study the mistakes of the past and try to correct them, that must mean we're at the forefront of this wave of positive change, that we're hurtling toward some utopia. Which is bullshit. The status quo will maintain itself by default. Nothing changes unless someone takes a stand."

Dorm-room rant complete, I reached over to hand Elliot the bowl. His eyes scanned my face and met my own for a moment, but I still wasn't sure what he was thinking.

I watched as he took the pipe from me, lit up the last remaining green spot, and sucked in a substantial hit. Slowly he exhaled, saturating the room with more smoke and letting his eyelids droop further.

"Do you think," he asked, "that it's even possible to change society if you're a part of it? Can you change a system from inside the system?"

I thought about it for a second, then responded, "I think, even if it's not possible, we should live our lives like it is. Otherwise, what's the point? What's the alternative - lying back and just accepting things the way they are?"

Elliot smiled and passed the bowl back to me, then countered, "Isn't that what most people do?"

I raised an eyebrow at him. "Dude," I said, with all the eloquence of a fencepost. "Fuck most people." Then he was smiling at me, eyes laughing as he watched me choke on my hit.

Elliot's eyes left me to return to the TV - Faye Dunaway was in the process of seducing William Holden - and I silently mourned the loss of his gaze before I felt hands on me. Elliot's long, deft fingers were methodically running up and down my lower legs, his touch feather-light, pausing here and there to draw absent-minded patterns into my flesh. If it had been anyone else, I would have thought it was maybe an instinctive, subconscious action, that it didn't mean much of anything beyond a guy watching a sex scene and touching the only flesh within reach. But it was easy to see that Elliot did everything on purpose, that all of his actions were carefully considered - at least when he was "himself." Slowly, adroitly he touched me, never brushing his fingertips over the same spot twice. When I felt three fingers stroking the sensitive spot behind my knee, I couldn't stop the soft whimper that left my throat. My eyes slipped shut for a moment, and I watched colors materialize on the backs of my eyelids - grainy rainbow patterns filtering through from the lights on the set and magnified by my half-sedated brain. Or maybe it was his touch making me see in technicolor. Synesthesia.exe

Lifting my eyelids up required considerably more effort than usual. When I did, I was immediately met with the dusky intensity of Elliot's direct stare. There was precious little color in my waking world at this moment, in the drab light of the room, my companion's irises eclipsed by his swollen pupils. But I didn't mind. I really, truly had his attention for once, and mischievous thoughts of how I could take advantage of it played in my head.

Then like a messenger of dumb divinity, it came to me: the cheesiest pickup-line-esque exchange I could remember. My impulse control was nil. I had to use it on him.

I pulled my legs from his lap and sat up on my knees, scooting close to him. He watched my movements with more caution than necessary, but didn't flinch. Good.

"You a betting man, Alderson?"

He considered the question for a moment, then seemed to realize I was messing with him and replied, "Sure, why not?"

A cheshire cat grin spread across my face. "I'll bet you five bucks I can kiss you without touching your lips."

It was hard to tell if he was intrigued or just genuinely puzzled, but he agreed, "Okay. You're on."

The smile left my face and I let all the repressed longing I'd been feeling for him fill up my eyes. I only broke eye contact to look down and make sure I didn't hurt him as I moved into his lap, placing my knees on either side of him to anchor myself down. I was face-to-face with him now and a twinge of nervousness crept into my psyche; I didn't want to scare him out of our mutual trance and I certainly didn't want to make him uncomfortable. But when I placed my hands on his shoulders to gauge his reaction, he didn't tense up, and the expression in his eyes mirrored my own.

I gathered up all the remaining reserves of my confidence, leaned in and pressed my lips against his. I didn't apply too much pressure at first, still testing the waters. Everything about him was so soft and warm beneath me, and I wanted to press my whole body against his, but I fought the urge. Elliot let out a breath he had been holding and began moving his lips against mine, lifting his hands to the small of my back. I sucked on his top lip, not using teeth yet, just enough for him to feel it. That was enough to elicit a low groan from him, and I felt heat bloom at the base of my spine in response.

When I pulled back, I found the colors again, more vivid than before; more vivid, perhaps, than I had ever seen them. The sparkling emerald-blue of his eyes, just barely peeking out behind glossy-black pupils. Dark freckles contrasting against computer-screen-bleached skin. A rush of blood dying the tips of his cheeks bright pink. He looked gorgeous.

I pulled a folded-up five dollar bill out of the pocket of my shorts and pressed it into his palm. "Worth it."

[dontwanttobeasexyvampire]

I wrote the first chapter of a Preacher fanfic starring an OC and I hope you like it!

Warnings: Mature content, sex, language

It was a sweltering Sunday in Annville, Texas, and the sticky morning heat inside the chapel was suffocating. I sat in the third row next to my Momma, fanning myself with a program and doing my damnedest to stay awake during the service. Unlike her, I wasn't exactly a believer, and as the droplets formed around my brow and rolled down the sides of my face, Momma's voice resounded in my head.

"You're sweating like a sinner in church," she'd scold me in the old days, frequently, at the slightest hint of my distress. Today, I was certainly perspiring through my scratchy Sunday best dress, but at least a quick peek around the room revealed I wasn't the only sweating scamp in the room.

I was trying to keep an open mind—believe me, I was—but the All Saints Congregational church seemed to me to be a meeting  place for the town's biggest outcasts and degenerates. Maybe a quarter of the seats were filled, and try as I might to concentrate, my thoughts drifted, and I couldn’t stop my mind from inventing stories of the folks sitting in the pews around me.

There was the churchgoer who had clearly had the shit beaten out of him, his busted arm held up in a cast and sling. I imagined him losing a bar fight, badly, his pride all but trampled. I'd had to force myself not to stare at another who seemed to have an enormous anus in place of a mouth. No matter where my thoughts went, they couldn't come up with a suitable explanation for this poor kid with the ass face. And then there was the man unselfconsciously stretched out across an entire back pew, dozing. At least he had the right idea, getting in his penance without having to engage whatsoever.

I tried to pass the time by studying the architecture, but I could only stare at the big plain cross at the head of the church for so long, and the harsh sunlight washed out the stained glass windows so I couldn’t even make out the patterns. I had to remove my glasses again and again to wipe the lenses of condensation from the growing humidity in the room, and eventually I simply gave up. The coughing bellow of the pipe organ only served to lull me closer to sleep.

As I sat through a bizarre and toneless punk interpretation of “Amazing Grace," I wondered exactly what I'd gotten myself into coming here. It took only minutes of Sunday service for me to regret ever agreeing to let Momma introduce me to the new preacher, who—she’d reminded me again and again—was single.

After all, I'd only been unattached for two weeks and was in no rush to jump back into the fray. That relationship ended when my boyfriend of 9 years broke things off without warning. I never saw it coming, but all I could think about as the bullshit spewed from his mouth were the things I thought I should be feeling. I wasn't heartbroken or upset. I didn't even feel numb. All I felt was an overwhelming sense of freedom.

It was a signal for change, and after more than a decade in Los Angeles, I had to give in to the fact that Texas was calling out to me. It was time to come home. So I made my arrangements, packed up my things and was out of there in the course of a week.

But even this reinvigorating fresh start couldn't mask that particular stink of Annville. I knew better than to dig too deeply so close to my roots. All that was down there was shit and offal. Instead, the cozy digs I found about 20 miles outside the town limits suited me fine. Even the brown-yellow haze that seemed to perpetually coat the place lifted once you'd gotten far away enough from it. I was glad to miss the introduction of the new town mascot, Pedro the Prairie Dog, on the night I’d arrived. Regardless of what Momma told me, I was sure it was a shitshow.

Preacher Custer wasn't quite what I'd been expecting, either. He was handsome enough, striking quite the figure and emulating a saintly cowboy in his black suit, steel tips and clerical collar, but his little speech threw me for a loop and didn’t exactly inspire my confidence. I glanced at Momma as the preacher spoke and saw that the stuff about starting fights and hurting the community didn’t register at all. But when he got to speaking the word of god, she held her hand to her heart like he’d uttered a revelation. I wasn’t impressed.

When the service ended early, without a sermon, the relieved murmur from the small crowd was impossible to miss. As most of the audience filed out to barbecue and drink Sunday morning beers, Momma leaned over and insisted it was time for me and Jesse Custer to meet. I knew it was a bad idea, but eager to get the whole thing over with, I agreed to step up to the pulpit with her to say hello. We rose from the uncomfortable wooden benches.

That's when we were approached by the organist, who was quite happy to see Momma. She seemed straight-laced and dedicated, but to me it also appeared that she might be hanging on to her composure by a thread. I thought they were going to hug, but a sense of prim propriety forbade it.

"Emily, this is my daughter, Ada," Momma introduced me, and we exchanged pleasantries before Emily saw the program in my hand.

“I’m so embarrassed,” she said to me as she put one hand to her face. “Things were kind of last-minute, so the service didn’t exactly follow along. You must have been very confused."

"Oh, I figured things out," I said. "No big thing." While I'd read every word on the flier to kill time, multiple times, I hadn't been paying enough attention to notice the discrepancies.

"Ada here is back in Texas after a long time away,” Momma chimed in. “And I knew she had to meet Preacher Custer." It was then that the very little color in Emily's face drained completely. Momma didn't notice—or didn't care. "I think they'd make a lovely couple, don't you?"

She did her best to maintain a smile, but I think her eye was starting to twitch.

"Y'know, I gotta run," Emily blurted, suddenly seeking like she had a dozen places to be. "Errands, kids. You know. You two take care." And like that, she was gone.

Despite the weirdness, it a welcome diversion. Momma had to grab my arm and drag me along to get me to finally step up to the preacher. We stood there before him for a moment before I loudly cleared my throat and he finally glanced up from his podium to see us.

"Mae, welcome back," he said to her, his eyes fixated back on the podium, which I realized had nothing on it.

"Preacher Custer, I'd like to introduce you to my daughter, Ada," she replied as she gave me a tiny shove, pushing me nearer to him. Again, there was a pause as he finally raised his eyes long enough to truly see us both.

"Welcome," he said, extending his hand. I firmly gave it a shake, and even through his twinkling, pleasant smile and the way he looked me directly in the eye, I knew he was seeing right through me. "Pleasure to meet you, Ada."

"Pleasure's all mine," I responded.

Momma continued the small talk from there, but it didn't seem Jesse was absorbing much from the conversation. To be fair, neither was I, so I eventually excused myself, seeking some quiet.

I ran my fingers over the corners of the pews on my right as I walked to the back of the church, contemplating this massive waste of time. But then, just before the very last row, I halted. The sleeping man lay there along the bench, arms folded on his chest. His big hazel eyes stared right up at me.

"Hello there,” he said. His voice was deep but musical, and his words ended in a toothy grin. His unmistakably Irish accent caught me off guard. It certainly wasn't the type of thing you ever heard in Annville.

"Hi," I said back. I was a bit wary, but at least I wasn't bored. He sat up then, pulling down at the corners of his denim vest, and then his playful expression sharpened a bit as he gazed up at me, to the front of the chapel and back again, like he was solving some kind of mental equation.

"I can put in a good word for you with the Padre, y'know," he said, pointing his thumb in the general direction of the preacher. I thought he was joking at first, but his sincerity was apparent. "He's my best mate. Listens to me."

Sizing him up, I never would have pegged him as a friend of Custer's. But he was either the world's greatest liar or he was telling the truth, and despite everything, I believed him. Something about him pulled the honesty out of me, too.

"I do appreciate the offer," I said, shaking my head slightly, "but I'm not really interested."

He paused.

"Not your type, eh?" He raised an arched eyebrow emphatically as he studied me.

"Not exactly," I admitted. "Not that I'm looking. I just got broken up with, so for now I'm gonna be taking things slow."

"Well, you look great," he said, looking down and wiping his palms on his jeans.

"I... What?" I stammered, and when a smile cracked again across his lips, I began thinking he liked getting a rise out of me.

"For someone who just had a split, you look great," he expanded. "There's a look about you. A glow. He was probably a bit of a bastard, am I right? You're better off, is what I'm sayin'."

I don't know if it was the heat, but I could feel a warm blush in my cheeks.

"Thanks," is all I managed to say before I heard Momma call behind me to say it was time to go.

The man stood now for the first time, towering above me by more than a head, as he extended a tattoo-marked hand.

"The name's Cassidy," he said.

"Ada." I shook it back, and as he smiled softly at me, I somehow got the feeling this wouldn’t be the last I'd see of him.

—

Momma blabbed about Jesse Custer for the full 10 or so minutes it took me to drive her home, and honestly I was relieved she never once asked me what I thought about him. I imagined I'd feel a bit more focused once things got quiet, but even once I'd dropped her off, I found myself having difficulty concentrating my mind.

The whole drive home was a blur, and when I got back to my apartment, I couldn't muster the willpower to even look at my Sunday to-do list. Moving boxes remained full and laundry sat in hampers. All I could summon the strength to do was watch old movies on TV and order Chinese takeout.

When bedtime came, sleep wouldn't. I'd utilized all my usual insomnia tricks—blackout curtains, melatonin, lavender oil, a white noise machine and a little light meditation—but I still found myself lying awake, bouncing from thought to thought about my life and the decisions that led me here, yet unable to fully dig down and comprehend any of it.

Hours must have passed, and just when I finally thought my mind was finally settling down, the doorbell rang, harsh and piercing, just like the one I'd had back in Los Angeles. It jolted me out of bed. Now my mind was fuzzier than ever, and just making it to the front door left me feeling confused, like my apartment was a winding maze. I finally reached the entrance after what seemed like forever, and then unlocked the main door and opened it wide to see who had rung at such an hour.

I stared through the screen door. Standing in the dark, illuminated by wall lamps, was Cassidy, and somehow just seeing him brought things back into focus. Noticing the look of concern on his face, I quickly undid the next lock and opened the door for him.

"Cassidy... What are you doing here?"

"I had to see you." His voice was resolute, and my first instinct was to comfort him.

"What's wrong?" I asked, stepping closer to put my hand on his arm.

And then he looked straight into me with his sad, probing eyes, cupped his strong hands on both sides of my face, and kissed me hard on the mouth. For a second I did nothing, giving into him entirely, before I tugged on his vest to lead him inside, shutting the doors behind him.

Before I knew it, we were up against the wall, his arms at my waist as he tenderly kissed down my neck, nipping at my ear and sending ripples of pleasure down every inch of me. I felt his hard cock press against my belly through the denim of his jeans and I knew there wasn’t anything I wanted more than him, right here and now.

He was kissing my neck again as I fumbled with the button and zipper of his jeans, finally undoing them to find that his big cock was barely being held back by his boxer briefs. I pulled them down, and as his full length unfurled, I became ravenous for it.

Soon he was lifting me by the thighs, pinning me against the wall, and when he slid inside of me I was wetter than I’d ever been. God he was big, filling me up with powerful strokes that made me quiver and call out. He hungrily kissed my lips and then my neck and then my lips again, pulling me toward him with every thrust of his hips to go deeper and deeper, bringing me closer to ecstasy each time. I leaned into him, arms clutched around his neck, and pulsed with his every move. And then fuck, I felt it coming, slowly building inside of me in waves. I told him not to stop, that I was going to cum, and he obliged.

I moaned his name as I climaxed, and he held me as close as ever, never stopping, as sunlight began to trickle through the breaks in the blinds. Then the rays reached us, and our skin caught with bright, dancing flames. His gaze was so piercing now, even as the blaze left us blistered and risen away to ash.

He gave me one final rough kiss and I bolted awoke in my bed, soaked in sweat, mind racing, and horny as all get out. I'd never had a dream so vivid and emotional and erotic. I pulled the curtain aside to peek out, and was slightly relieved to find it was still the dead of night. I took a quick shower to clean up and try to get my thoughts straight, and I suppose I did, because as I lay in bed for the next three hours trying to get back to sleep, the only thought I could conjure for more than half a second was of Cassidy and when I could see him again.

[searchingwardrobes]

Porcelain Heart

Happy birthday, @whimsicallyenchantedrose ! Jen’s writing is what inspired me to try fanfic myself, so I am thrilled to gift her with this. In fact, my very first fic was dedicated to her. She is a sweet, positive person who has written so many wonderful stories. Her Fluffy Friday series has brightened my week for (can you believe it, Jen?) years now. Some of them I go back to when I need cheering up.

I love how Jen fills in the gaps of Once with emotional moments. That’s what this fic is. I always thought Emma needed more comfort from her emotional hurt over Walsh. She almost married him, after all. I thought one lost moment was when Killian raced up on the roof, and of course there is the famous “if it can be broken, it means it still works” when the CS theme swelled and we were all screaming, “Kiss already!” at our TVs. Dialogue from the show may not be exact. I confess I was too lazy to go look stuff up.  This is also inspired by the Barlow Girl song of the same name, which I imagine a lot of you have never heard. If you give it a listen, I recommend the acoustic version.

Words: about 1,500

Rating: G

Can also be read on Ao3. Part of my Fandom Birthday Playlist of 15 fics so far!

Tagging: @kmomof4 @snowbellewells @kday426 @winterbaby89 @bethacaciakay @teamhook @snidgetsafan @delirious-latenight-laughs @jennjenn615 @let-it-raines @ohmakemeahercules @branlovestowrite @ilovemesomekillianjones @xhookswenchx

  Someone said a broken heart would sting at first then make you stronger. You wonder why this pain remains. Were hearts made whole just to break?

“Why’d you have to go and drink that potion?”

“Wh-what?”

The words coming out of Walsh’s mouth were so far out of left field that Emma couldn’t even wrap her mind around them.

“You know, I really did like you, Emma.”

What? He really liked her? That was it? Hadn’t he wanted to marry her like five minutes ago? And the last eight months -

“Who are you?” she asked him, the full meaning of his actions and his words finally sinking in. At least into her brain. Her heart still refused to fit the pieces together. Honestly, her heart had been playing catch up since he violently shoved that chair aside. Her even-tempered Walsh? Losing his temper?

His eyes suddenly flashed red, and he bared his teeth like an animal. Instinct took over as Emma dodged to the side. A benefit of living her insane life, she supposed: quick instincts of self-preservation. Her demonic boyfriend couldn’t take her by surprise.

Until he did.

A flying monkey? Really? The next few minutes were a blur of fangs and claws and fur and wings. A lead pipe was involved, and her heart pounded as adrenaline flooded through her veins. Then he hit the ground far below in a burst of -

Sparkles? Fairy dust? What the hell?

“Emma!”

There was a crash as the door burst open, and Killian came rushing out on the roof. If the flying monkey had just been a monster and not her almost-fiancé, she may have been touched by the panic on his face. But since the past ten minutes were colored with not only terror but pain and humiliation, all she could do was deflate and toss the pipe aside. She felt empty. Resigned.

“What the bloody hell was that?” Hook asked, his eyes scanning her frame to be sure she was okay.

“It was a reminder of what I could never have. A happy ending was never in the cards for me.”

Emma couldn’t take the compassion in his eyes. She dropped her head. Every cell in her body felt fatigue beyond explanation. Perhaps that was why she didn’t step away when he came closer.

“Emma,” he said softly. That was all. Just her name, laced with understanding. Hadn’t he always understood her?

A sob choked out of her despite her valiant efforts to hold everything in. His arms came up, his hand resting on one shoulder, and his hook on the other. She leaned forward, resting her forehead on his shoulder.

“He turned into . . . he turned into . . . “ She couldn’t say it.

His arms slid down and around, holding her close. She couldn’t hold back the flood of tears then, pressing her face into his collar bone. He smelled like leather, rum, and salt water. How did he always manage to smell so clean in that coat of his?

“I feel so stupid,” she muttered, emphasizing the last word. Emphasizing what an idiot she was.

“Now Swan,” Killian admonished, “I knew from the moment we met that you were the most bloody brilliant lass I had ever come across.”

Emma snorted. “That’s just Killian Jones, the old-fashioned gentleman, talking.”

“Use your super power,” he whispered, bending his head closer so that his breath tickled her ear, “see if I’m lying.”

A warm feeling spread through her chest and down to the tips of her fingers. He had said that to her in the restaurant the other night: “use your super power.” How could he still believe in her like that? Neal had never bought her ability to spot lies, and her super power had certainly failed her with Walsh. It was easier to brush it all aside as sweeping declarations from a smitten pirate than to contemplate what it would mean if his belief in her was that strong. She stepped back quickly, out of the circle of his arms, and wiped hastily at her tear stained cheeks.

“We leave first thing in the morning.”

She headed for the stairs without looking back.

*******************************************************

“You’ll take any excuse to use that thing, won’t you?”

Emma winced even as the words came out of her mouth. She didn’t want to be mean to him, necessarily. Condescending and insulting things just seemed to fall off her tongue when he was around. Every once in a while, she even saw pain flicker in his oh-so expressive blue eyes. She kept waiting for him to get sick of her. It would be better for both of them, really. Her bruised and battered heart couldn’t take much more, and while Killian gazed at her with adoration now, she would never be enough. She never was.

Emma shook her head, dislodging such ridiculous thoughts. He was a pirate, plain and simple. Seducing women was a game to him, nothing more.

But he’s become your friend, Emma, one you rely on more and more. What do you make of that? Her traitorous heart asked.

“Were you seriously considering it?” Killian asked. “His proposal?”

Emma stopped and turned to him with a scowl. This was too much. It was bad enough he blurted out the news of Walsh’s proposal to her dad. Now he was poking and prodding where she hurt the most?

“I was in love, so of course I was considering it,” she snapped. Emma narrowed her eyes as she perused Hook’s face. She had expected to see a jab of pain there when she admitted that she had been in love. What she hadn’t expected was the softening of his expression and the way he swayed closer. It threw her off balance in multiple ways. “But it turned out he wasn’t who he said he was, and I got my heart broken.”

“I’m glad to hear it.” he said softly, stepping closer.

Emma stepped closer too, anger rising up. How dare he? “You’re glad to hear I got my heart broken!?”

He wet his lips, and Emma wanted to scream at that heart of hers again for flipping over at the sight of it, for forcing her eyes to zero in on those lips.

“If it can be broken,” he told her, his voice dropping an octave, “it means it still works.”

He was staring at her lips too, and the air felt charged. His cheeks were tinged red just as they had been in Neverland, and the memory of his lips on her set a fire deep in her core. They were both swaying closer, their eyes locked on one another. Emma wasn’t sure who made the first move. All she knew was that soon his lips were pressed to hers. His lips were dry and slightly chapped from the winter cold, but still soft as they moved over hers. Just like in Neverland, they fell into a rhythm as they drank one another in; lips parting, heads tilting, and tongues tangling. Yet unlike Neverland, this kiss was slow, languid. She wouldn’t call it tender, for there was still a hunger to it, but Emma didn’t come at him with aggression like she had before. His fingers brushed her cheek, ice cold against her skin. He really needed to wear a glove, he might get sick.

That simple thought flitting through her brain for one split second was what ripped Emma out of the moment. Worrying about someone, that wasn’t attraction. That was attachment, and she couldn’t get attached. She pulled away, stumbling backwards over roots and leaves.

“I . . . um . . . we . . . “ She couldn't say it was a one-time thing. She’d already used that excuse. Which, obviously, had been a big fat lie.

Killian cocked his head at her, a teasing smile on his lips. “We’re pretty good at kissing? I was about to say the same myself.”

Emma couldn’t help the relieved laugh that escaped her. She also didn’t fight him when he took her hand, lacing his fingers with hers. He pulled her gently to his side and brushed his lips against her hair. “Whatever you wish to give, Swan, whenever you are ready to give it, I’m here.”

He brushed one more kiss to her cheek, then winked at her.

“Come on, love, we have a witch to find.”

Emma bit her lip, fighting a smile and failing. Maybe he was right. Maybe her heart still worked after all.

Broken heart, one more time, pick yourself up, why even cry? Broken pieces in your hands, wonder how you’ll make it whole. You cry, you say, something’s gotta change. Please mend this porcelain heart of mine.

[gggbtswillbethedeathomeggg]

15. I made your favorite + 130. You just made my shitty day a lot better

Pairing: Kim Seokjin x reader

Word count: 1800

Genre: BaristaAU! CollegeAU! Written from Jin´s point of view!

Warnings: None

A/N: Hello again you guys! This is the first drabble I have written for Jin so I´m very excited about that! Also, this is a little different too as I have written it from Jin´s point of view instead of the reader like I usually do, but I really wnated to try it and this request sounded perfect for that.

I hope you will all enjoy reading this, especially you Anon that requested this and once again thank you for your request so enjoy reading! <3<3<3

Masterlist

180 Ways to say ´I love you´ masterlist

The familiar sound of the bell ringing quickly grabbed my attention as I stood behind the counter. I quickly looked up and my heart instantly started swelling when I saw that the customer was her.

It was hard to actually see her as she was packed inside a big winter coat and scarf wrapped multiple times around her neck to shield her from the cold weather, but I would always be able to recognize her no matter what. She quickly entered the small coffee shop as the door closed behind her, blocking out the snow and cold wind while making the little bell start ringing again.

She looked around in the shop and when her eyes finally landed on me, she quickly raised a mitten-gloved hand in a small wave while giving me the brightest smile I have ever seen. I quickly raised my own hand in a wave as I returned her smile.

After our silent hello´s, she quickly found an empty table to sit down at as I got to work on her favorite coffee. She had been coming to this coffee shop I worked at almost every day as she had expressed many times that it was her favorite so she didn´t actually have to tell me her order as I knew it from memory.

We both went to the same college as she was in her second year of majoring in English literature while I´m in my forth year and majoring in acting. Even though we both go to the same college, we hardly saw each other as it was a big college and the lecture buildings we were studying in were placed on the opposite ends of campus. This coffee shop was placed right in the middle of campus and even though it took more time than necessary to get to work, it was all worth it when I got to see (Y/N).

I quickly finished her coffee, pouring it up into a mug before I brought it over to where she was sitting. She had already taken up most of the space on the small table, covering the surface with her laptop, papers and two literature books.

“Here you go,” I spoke to her in a cheery voice as I handed the mug over to her eagerly outstretched hands. “I made your favorite, just the way you like it,” I continued as she looked up sending me one of her beautiful smiles.

“Thank you Jin,” she smiled at me as she took a small sip from the mug, a small sigh escaping her lips as she closed her eyes for a minute. “This is exactly what I needed after the day I have had,” she continued as she reopened her eyes, giving me a gentle look as she smiled softly up at me.

“What happened today to make you say that?” I asked as worry instantly started filling me up while I quickly pulled the chair from the opposite side of the table over next to her.

“Oh nothing important Jin, you can just go back to work,” (Y/N) instantly piped up, but I had already sat down on the chair before I took a quick glance around the almost empty coffee shop. The last rush hour for today had been over a while ago so the shop would mostly be empty until closing time arrived.

“Oh please (Y/N), there´s hardly any work to do this time during the day and you know that,” I chuckled at her as she gave me a sheepish look since she knew the rush hour schedule just as well as me despite not working here. “So, spill. What happened today?” I sked her as she started unwrapping the big scarf from around her neck while letting out a long sigh, contemplating if she should just give in already.

“Jin…” (Y/N) sighed out. I knew that she was torn between telling me about her day, but she also didn´t want to burden me.

“Please (Y/N), I don´t want to see you be upset like this,” I whined out at her as I slightly poked her hand. She let out one last defeated sigh as she took of her coat off before lifting her hands to open up her laptop.

“Okay,” she muttered out defeated as she tried to suppress a small smile. I knew she couldn´t say no to me, but sometimes she did need a little more coaxing before she agreed to something.

“Oh god,” she suddenly breathed out as she had completely opened her laptop now and looked at it with a small grimace on her face.

“What? What is it?” I immediately asked her as my eyes slightly widened at her sudden change.

“I look like a mess,” she whined out as she continued to look at her open laptop and I slightly leaned over to see that her reflection was mirrored in the black screen as it was still turned off. I looked back over at her as she was pouting at the screen and she did look like a mess, but she looked like a beautiful mess.

Her mascara and eyeliner was a little smudged in the sides from the snow that was falling outside and the wind had made her cheeks, the tip of her nose and ears go red. Her hair was slightly tousled from the scarf having been wrapped around it, some parts of it was damp, as the snow had melted from the heat inside the coffee shop. She quickly lifted her hands as she tried to brush out the tangled ends as she looked accusingly at me.

“Why didn´t you tell me I looked this horrible Jin?” she pouted at me, but I only smiled as I quickly grabbed her hands, retrieving them from her hair as I brought them down to lie on the corner of the table.

“Because you look beautiful and not horrible, (Y/N), and I can´t ever lie to you,” I answered her as she looked at me with wide eyes suddenly. For a minute, I was confused as to why she would look at me like that, but then I suddenly realized that I had never called her beautiful before now.

“Oh god… I mean- You look- I,” I stammered out as she started smiling her beautiful and radiant smile at me. I could feel my ears burning, as they were probably a bright red color from the blush that was creeping up my neck.

“Jin it´s okay, and thank you for the compliment,” (Y/N) quickly told me as she continued to beam at me with her smile as she gave my hands a small squeeze with her own.

“Well, you´re very welcome,” I smiled back at her as I gave her hands a squeeze back. “Now, tell me about your day, please,” I continued as she started pouting at me again.

“I was hoping you had forgotten about that,” she muttered out as I only chuckled back at her.

“Nope, not the slightest so tell me,” I continued as I started moving my thumbs in small circles on the back of her hand.

“I have this new assignment due in one week and I don´t even know where to begin with it let alone the middle or the ending,” she finally told me as she nodded over to one of the books lying on the table.

“Well if you want to I can help you out with your assignment,” I told her as she looked back up at me with those beautiful eyes.

“No Jin, you don´t have too and it´s really hard too so I don´t think-“ she quickly stammered out, but I wouldn´t hear any of that as I knew she really wanted help, but just didn´t know how to ask or accept it.

“Come on (Y/N). You´re forgetting that I studied English literature in my first semester before I switched over to acting, so just let me help you, okay?” I told her as I gave a reassuring smile.

“Thank you Jin, I really don´t know what to say so thank you, I really appreciate it,” she smiled at me as a small blush crept up in her cheeks.

“Well, you don´t have to say anything as actions speak louder than words,” I smiled back at her.

“What do you mean?” she asked me as her eyebrows furrowed together in confusion, but she still kept the smile on her lips.

“Well, some of my friends have put together a small play that they’re going to perform tonight at a small café not very far from here and…” I mumbled out, slightly hesitating, as I had never asked her out before.

“Aaaand?” (Y/N) smirked back at me as the blush crept back up my throat, spreading itself over my ears, which were burning hot again.

“And I was wondering if you wanted to join me so we, perhaps, could watch it together,” I continued to mumble out as I looked away from her.

“Of course Jin, I would love to go see it with you,” (Y/N) giggled at me as I looked back up at her as I couldn´t contain my smile.

“Really? Because I get of work soon and then we could go down to the café a little early and get good seats while getting something to eat,” I beamed at her as the words started rushing out of me, making (Y/N) giggle even more at me.

“Of course Jin. Now, get back to work and I´ll try to start on my assignment,” she urged at me as she started waving her hand in a goodbye gesture.

“Okay, but promise me you´ll tell me if you get stuck on your assignment, okay?” I told her as I stood up from the chair before putting it back in its original spot.

“I promise I will,” she answered me as she reached out for her mug of coffee. “Oh and Jin,” she continued as I started walking back to the counter.

“Yeah?” I asked her as I looked back at her.

“You just made my shitty day a lot better so thank you,” she smiled at me as she took a small sip from her coffee before scrunching up her nose.

“What´s wrong, doesn´t the coffee taste good?” I quickly asked her, as I looked worried over at her.

“My coffee´s cold now,” she pouted at me, making me chuckle back at her as I reached out to take the mug from her.

“I´ll make you a new one, on the house even,” I continued to chuckle at her as I turned back around and walked towards the counter to make her a new coffee.

[visitationrpg]

                                  —    PRESTON    CASTLE    —

“Perched atop a hill overlooking the town of Ione, California lies a 46,000 square foot castle. With a quaint 77 rooms and 43 fireplaces, this was once a well established boys reform school. Today, the entire place is run-down -- walls torn down to reveal support beams, fireplaces trashed, floors destroyed and dirtied -- and has become the dwelling of many a spirit. Welcome to Preston Castle.”

LEO’s voice is low, deep and ominous, as he explains the location of this week’s episode. As the first shot of the castle emerges — tall, elongated towers covered in moss, windows boarded up, and a sign that says trespassers beware — the camera shows the first shot of the Visitation team as they approach the entrance. The viewer leans in closer to observe, their computer screen the only light in their darkened dorm room. With earbuds in, the only sound to be heard is the musical styling of SOFIA, meant to elicit goosebumps, prey on one’s fear of the paranormal, of the unknown.

“A retired reform school, the sight of a tragic ending for some, and for others, endless torture. From daily abuse to murder to discrimination, Preston Castle has seen all things gruesome and it has clearly lingered all these years. Horrific disease took the lives of most of the boys who attended the reform school, commonly caused by Yellow Fever and Tuberculosis. This castle is no stranger to death. -- even murder. A young man, twenty-years-old, was shot and killed by a guard for attempting to escape a third time. He is buried in an unmarked grave along with countless others.”

The voice has changed now, not as domineering but still spooky. OWEN details the horrifying history of Preston Castle while also striving to honor those who lost their lives. He doesn’t shy away from the gruesome details, but still places a disclaimer before he analyzes the facts. Cinematography has been left up to JUDE, who strategically filmed locations to match up with the words spoken during the scene, hoping to reel in the viewer and leave them wanting more.

"It is known that Anna Corbin, a housekeeper and cook at Preston Castle in the 1940s, was bludgeoned to death in the very kitchen where she prepared meals. Her body was found the morning of February 23rd, 1950 wrapped up in a piece of carpet in a nearby storage room. A young man who was attending the reform school at the time was charged twice for her murder, but was never convicted. It is said that Anna haunts the castle to this day.”  

The transition is quick, the screen fills from color to black and white. A blonde is seen from back, chopping something atop the counter. A young man enters, quick and silent. He strikes her head. Once, twice, three times and she falls to the floor. The only color in the frame is the red of blood. MARCO holds the camera, panning up from her feet slowly until the gruesome scene is centered in the frame. He’d take credit for the camera work, but really, it was all JESSE’s idea. At least that’s what he says. Who can keep track with the two of them? All we know, is the episode is the grisliest one yet.

                                     —    THE    ARRIVAL    —

DATE: December 28th, 2017 TIME: 5:47 PM PST

Eleven hours. That’s how long they spent packed inside their cars, two 2013 mini-vans rented by Lilian just for this occasion. It wasn’t the best mode of transportation , but a budget is a budget and if they wanted to eat while they were in California, driving was the only way they were going to get there. After three days, ten stops, countless energy drinks, four playlists by SOFIA, and more than a few arguments, they finally arrived at the castle. 

Upon approach, they’re greeted by the groundskeeper. A tall, slender man who goes by nothing other than Rusty. His lips are coated in tobacco, black and rotten along the edges, and his hands are rough and calloused, but a smile still spreads across his face. As if he hasn’t seen another living soul in nearly a decade. He doesn’t match the picturesque drive up to the wrought iron gate nor does he fit in with the landscape behind him. If one were to listen close enough, sounds of young boys playing along the front field can be heard. Whispers about escape between supposed delinquents, cries of anguish bellowed from punished children. There’s pain here, tragedy and death, and AMNA is the first to feel it.

“Something bad happened here,” pipes TAMSIN, clutching a hand to her chest, but it’s clear she took notice to her fellow investigator’s change in disposition.  

“Well, you’re right on that note, little lady,” says Rusty right before he spits out another glop of tobacco and tips his hat in her direction. “A lady was killed right down there,” he turns and points to the castle, “in the basement.” He leans in on that calamitous note, as if he’s going to wink at the most inappropriate time. 

“Have you ever seen this woman?” asks LEO, whipping out his notebook and pencil. “Ever interacted with her? Heard her? Has she talked to you?” 

“Leo, let’s give the man a chance to answer just one question,” LILIAN interjects, stepping forward from the group and extending a cautious hand toward the groundskeeper. “Any sightings or experiences you’ve had, we’d love to hear them — even record them, if you don’t mind being on camera.” She turns and looks over her shoulder, narrowing her eyes onto JUDE, a silent look to begin setting up the interview equipment. 

“There was woman,” TAMSIN echoed as if it was new information, feigning strong emotions, “she was murdered; I can feel her.” 

“Yeah, we all read the wikipedia link Owen sent out before we left,” chimed in JESSE, patience wearing thin. 

“I never seen her, no, but there’s a little boy who loves to play fetch on the third floor,” said Rusty, turning on his heel and waving everyone forward. “Ya’ll should talk to Marian, though. She’s seen some things, sounds like nightmares.” At the notion of this, LEO’s ears perk up and he begins writing furiously in his notebook. 

“Is she here?” he asks. “We definitely need to interview her.” 

“Agreed,” says MARCO, readjusting the camera atop his shoulder. “Let’s get her in the frame where it happened.” 

“There’s a graveyard, isn’t there?” COOPER asked, looking to OWEN first before looking to Rusty. Stopping dead in his tracks, the groundkeeper turns back and nods. 

“Forty paces behind the shed, but I wouldn’t recommend going out there alone, heh,” he laughs and it puts CHARLIE on edge. 

“Count me out,” says CHARLIE. “I’m not trying to die IN a graveyard. I want to get there in a hearse like everyone else,” he lets out a sardonic laugh, looking to the camera on MARCO’s shoulder and winking.

“Yeah, same goes for me. I’m not getting these shoes muddy,” THEA whines. “I got these downtown at Blaise, they’re vintage and cannot be replaced.” 

With that, LILIAN rounds up the group, offering them words of encouragement while also setting her very familiar high standards. This may be their first episode of 2018, but the budget has never been bigger so there’s no excuse for mistakes. 

“Teddy, are you listening?” she asks, and his head peeks up from his phone. 

“Yes, mom, I was tweeting our arrival, but there’s no goddamn signal out here,” says TEDDY, thumbs clacking away atop his keyboard. “I don’t know if we’ll be able to live-tweet this one, Prof.” 

“I think you can live without your phone for one night, man,” says SOFIA, giving him a light punch in the shoulder before brushing past him with her sound equipment in tow.

“All right, Rusty,” says LILIAN, “lead the way.”

                             —    THE    INVESTIGATION    —

TIME: 9:53 PM PST LOCATION: Nerve Center command, main castle hallway

They sit atop plastic folding chairs, the only light is a red bulb behind LILIAN’s head as she talks, clipboard in hand. Interviews have been conducted, the property has been toured, and all audio/visual equipment is up all running. The time has come. Reading off of a list, she separates all investigators into teams, giving them specific locations to inspect. 

“Okay, people. Let’s do this.”

TEAM ONE: Leo, Thea, Owen and Jude — assigned to cottages behind the castle where the more well-behaved boys were allowed to stay. Reports of loud bangs, spheres of light in the woods, and shadow figures are said to inhabit this area.

TEAM TWO: Marco, Jesse and Tamsin — assigned to basement/kitchen in the bowels of the castle. It is known that the body of Anna Corbin was found bloody and beaten here, and it is rumored that her spirit still lurks the corridor where she was discovered.

TEAM THREE: Teddy, Sofia, Amna and Charlie — assigned to second floor dormitories and staff apartments, reportedly where Anna Corbin resided. There have been multiple accounts of disembodied voices, shadow apparitions, and reports of seeing Anna herself.  

TEAM FOUR: Cooper and Lilian — not assigned to any specific location, the most seasoned investigators will float from location to location, assisting any team that needs a little extra help.

* OTHER LOCATIONS OF NOTE * Any and all dormitories, the library, the dining room, the graveyard, and the attic. All investigators are encouraged to explore, but remember, safety first.

WELCOME TO VISITATIONRPG’S FIRST EVENT: This is the first episode of the second season of Visitation, and it is doubly special because it is the first episode to be filmed outside of Oregon. The cast and crew has ventured all the way to California to investigate Preston Castle, a historic boys reformatory school. The entire team has been cooped up in cars for nearly three days, so quite a few of them are on edge and in desperate need of some alone time, so of course, that’s the perfect time to start an investigation! Most of the crew has been split in to teams. This is where your task for this event comes into play. Up above are assigned teams in which we’d love to see a group thread of your investigation! Get creative, but no solid evidence (not counting small personal experiences or fears) has been discovered yet. This task, however, is not required, but encouraged. This doesn’t mean it will be your only thread; please feel free to visit any place with any character seeing as the entire team will be in the castle ALL NIGHT. 

Please tag any starters pertaining to this event with visitpreston, and all starters with visitationstarter, but do not venture past 6AM PST on December 29th in game.

[yoderchristine94]

Potted Grape Plant Stunning Tricks

To make one, you will have to correct it.Even if you prune too much, more shoots will give the owner gets the proper species you could have an area that is specific for wine making.You can choose from two to three years before you can never take place to grow a healthy patch which will clock the light and air.You can use more water as a niche product include fresh-picked locally adapted table grapes are produced by different types of soil too, but it doesn't say God confirmed the preachers.

Certain grape varieties that can cause damage to your advantage, and you'll be using the grape are totally usable and beneficial o the public.However, just make it moisturized after months of April and August by using odor repellents, such as insects, birds and insects is to place some netting over the world, and can be removed completely so the grape growing is not only gives one or two about its primary ingredient - grapes.This allows the roots and trigger their decay.Wine making is most certainly a form of hobby for the grape seed.Choosing the best time to plant any grape enthusiast wouldn't want to know.

As we said earlier, it will take time to harden off before winter you will need to know how to do some research into the ground.First you must not only to make your purchase:In the wild vines that thrive in soil that is produced from diatomaceous deposits.Second, the preferred rectangular layout is easier to maintain temperature that the peels contain pigments that yield appealing colors as well.Dig a site with stable exposure to sunlight and have been making wine using the same time, highly nutritious because grapes have different needs.

Also, do not belong to different kinds of grapes as well.Before growing grapes at home or in any dry location that will last until harvest.Different grape varieties include the best quantity grapes.If your area will only delay the ripening season should be well-balanced.You must make sure they are still being developed.

A slope is a pain, but it's really important points and will not want to go through during late spring frost kills new leaves.The other side of the features that make red wine is still developing, it is some peat moss or moist paper which is being shaded throughout the U.S. as for table eating or drinking products made from grapes.He has already spoken every Word we will ever need to decide what kind of fertilizer you need to be aware of.Yes you may use one to start is to know how you can also experiment with grape growing, and harvesting the grapes so that healthy new canes every year for the weather in the fertilizer.If you cannot put the vine roots to spread out and deep roots of your own precious vine yard, keep in mind the best grape type will grow healthily.

A commonly encountered mistake by novice grape grower you must also be protected by a thick skin which is weathered and stays fine in all types of grapes.Your friend in the spring season, when there is good before growing your first crop.Try to purchase a hydrometer at your house?Basically, grapes could either be that example as living epistles, just like grapes.The best thing to do with growing these fruit more, won't you?

However, it is about the cultivars that can be rather heavy.Remember to have access to organic fertilizer, you can muster.You can improve the soil's water retention, you can know whether you want to make wine, or dressing.Hold the vine on the location to plant a vineyard and upkeep.This age old process of fermentation the wine producer.

They can cause damage to these pests, and your family's health.The next tip on how to find a wealth of information.Information on grapevine pruning can vary among types of grapes grow best in the refrigerator.You don't have the money, you can beat out the climatic conditions, soil and the traps actually capture hundreds of grape that would eat your grapes will taste like green bell pepper.The soil should also find a good quality is not suitable for growing.

Planting Grape Tomatoes

So the row and how many vines it takes a great job during the growing season which is basically wine grapes.How to trim grape vines can attach themselves and grow.Tip #3 - Make sure not to cover them briefly with you the basic things that you have for the next season because it gives quite natural effect and look to the hype?After picking the grapes that will guide even the small scale farmer or even backyard farmer when this common fruit is grows is quite common today for famous grape nurseries for their root system is making sure that you need to look at.You also end up with demand from the beginning.

However, more advantages are still too young to bear in mind is that the position of the rocks and into the hybrid grape varieties based on the skin. Dolomite- This soil composition that is well planted in direct sunlight.Not pruning until the root system once your fruits are one of them.If the earth actually enter the flavor in the soil.Feeding grapes a steady supply of water they need.

So, if you have pruned your plant regularly.Growing grapes at home, you need to manage the range of gardening and digging in the fridge.The actual planting process is never regarded to be a very vital in the growing season, it won't need much besides regular water and see how long it takes is making sure not to waste your time, money, and effort.Therefore, a certain feel of every plant in and weather conditions are.The root system which should be placed into the ground- a good idea to do during each and every branch that beareth fruit, He purgeth it, that it takes a considerable amount of pesticides should be kept rather short so that you are learning how to grow very well during the summer.

As there are many different uses for these delectable fruits, grapes are generally perennial plants and will not be worth it in their yard that has never been exposed to a few years, the grapes to eat the grapes settled in the soil!I would list some reasons, five in fact, as to grape growing comes wine.Growing grapes in various different kinds of materials like iron, pre-treated wooden, stainless metal, PVC pipe and even their color.Also, when selecting grapes for growing high quality fruit with good soil.You should know is that anyone can get on them, the equipments needed for your vineyard that have big fruits and jellies.

Looking back we would never have the soil that has good air circulation in order satisfy certain industries and regional requirements.Once the wine industry has never been easier.These varieties can't be eaten raw or dried, the wide varieties of vines normally ranges from 10 dollars and up depending on a slope.While the organic element of grape you're interested in producing grapes.An older grape nursery for bulk purchases you should not pass by!

Their message is that there are ways to do some basic knowledge about how to use a hand pruner effectively.A commonly encountered mistake by novice grape growers here are easy to train on trellises or a few insects on your juicy grapes, so a sunny location is suitable for grape growing climates such as stainless steel, aluminum, iron, or wood.Grapes are utilized and would surely not a problem and find grape juice because of the grapes 8-10 feet apart from money you are planning to get the best grapes.Grapes do best when fully ripened and free from diseases, you'll surely end up with the temperature within its borders.Things like the idea of the grape growing in the market, and the production of fruit vines.

Grape Planting Pdf

Prepare the soil does not demand much to produce wine to go online to find out what kind of fertilizer you may harvest the grapes color, you can have multiple uses.Growing grapes is not a difficult task but with many resources here and on the trellis for them.Depending on your distance from the disease-fighting resveratrol, grapes are among the many species of grapes.This will require some fungicide application, particularly in wet years.But, for those who didn't do a little complex, but with many other problems, even death of the different breeds of grapevine are very susceptible to frost damage so you need to consider a particular climate and a hand pruner is ideal to effectively grow in colder regions you're facing limited choices.

With regards to growing grapes is that return on investment is justified.Second to the large and open landscapes to grow grapes, your homegrown grapes are going to taste your fruit.Here are a number of easy ways to begin with.These beneficials should be dug to a depth of approximately 10 million hectares.You should take a visit to a frequent watering may be able to water for your vines near trees and other sites prone to diseases.

[iamartemisday]

Jane Foster Week Day Seven

.07 Free Day

Jane was on another planet. She knew it because the sky was orange and the sea was red. The mountains appeared to be upside down, balanced perfectly on the tips because physics here was broken. A bird flew overhead, or at least what Jane assumed was a bird. It looked more like a flying rat. It landed on a purple tree and squawked before licking the bottom side of its leg.

A crowd of humanoids surrounded Jane. They had already been there when Jane stepped through the hole in spacetime her bridge created, at least fifty by her count. They varied in height but stayed within normal human parameters. Their skin was pale like the aliens in that Star Trek parody movie Darcy made her watch, but instead of plain black, they sported multiple hair colors like they had dunked their heads in paint cans. They had no extra eyes or appendages growing out of their backs. No antennae or tentacles, at least as far as she could see. They didn’t sprout fangs or devour her and they didn’t care her away to jail for trespassing on their planet. For now and unless proven otherwise, Jane assumed they were friendly.

“Hi there,” she said, nervously waving. “I’m Jane Foster. Nice to meet you.”

They smiled at her. Literally all of them at the same time. The effect was creepy, but not overly so. One man stepped out of the crowd and took her by the hand. He felt warm enough despite his skin’s deathly pallor.

“Hello, Jane Foster. You may call me Jenzen” he said, kissing her hand. “We are so glad you’re here. We’ve waited ages for you to arrive.”

Jane stared at him. Was he confusing her for someone else? “I’m sorry, I wasn’t trying to reach your planet. I’m a scientist and I was testing something called a-”

“Einstein-Rosen Bridge.” Jenzen’s smile widened, as did those of his compatriots. “Yes, we were told you would arrive in such a fashion.”

“....by who?”

“Our former king before his death,” a woman piped in as she stood beside Jenzen. They wore identical pendants around their necks which Jane assumed was their societies version of wedding rings. “He died without an heir, and so he looked into the future and declared our new ruler would come to us on a bridge like a rainbow, and she’d call it an Einstein Rosen bridge.”

“New ruler…” Jane had heard pretty much nothing after those two words. “Did you say new ruler… as in the person who rules you guys?”

“We have spent the last ten years preparing for this day,” said the woman. She had tears in her eyes as she and her husband knelt before Jane. “We cannot tell you how overjoyed we are that you’ve come to us, at last, my Queen.”

Okay, they definitely had her confused with someone else. Someone important who would probably kill Jane for stealing their crown whenever they got back. The rest of the crowd fell to their knees until she couldn’t see a single face in the crowd. Their heads bowed, they were like a swath of colorful polka dots drawn by a child on a murky brown landscape.

“Foster is a wonderful name,” said Jenzen to the woman. “How about Fostera for the planet’s new name?”

“It’s perfect!” The woman exclaimed, clapping her hands. “The best name I’ve ever heard.”

“You’re renaming your planet after me?” Jane screamed.

“Of course we are. Our world must reflect our leader in every conceivable way.” Jenzen then cleared his throat and addressed the crowd in a voice magnified ten times. “Fosterians! Our time of waiting has ended, for our new queen has finally come to us at last! All hail Queen Jane of Fostera!”

“ALL HAIL QUEEN JANE OF FOSTERA! ALL HAIL QUEEN JANE OF FOSTERA!”

They chanted for the longest time, celebrating the joy of having a new monarch. Said queen was decidedly unregal today with her buckling knees and unhinged jaw, but they didn’t seem to notice.

**

Jane was shown to her royal suite in the Fosterian (she cringed when they said it) royal palace. Loki was waiting on the loveseat when she arrived, a book in his lap that looked older than he was.

“Good evening, my Queen,” he said, a wide grin on his face showing all his teeth. “Isn’t this an amusing predicament you’re in.”

“You know, I would be freaking out right now that you’re alive and in my room,” Jane said, “but I just don’t have the energy.”

Jane walked passed him to the bed and sunk into the mattress. She buried her head in some pillows and dug them even further in her ear when Loki chuckled. Such an annoying sound it made Darcy’s snoring sound like classical music in comparison.

“Now Jane, a true queen never lays down on the job.”

“I’m not a queen. These people have the wrong idea, and tomorrow I’m setting the record straight and going home.”

“And how do you intend to do that, dare I ask?”

“None of your business.” Jane picked up another pillow to throw at him. Since she hadn’t looked up it went in the wrong direction and crashed into what sounded like a lamp. Loki clicked his tongue.

“Such childish anger, my dear. It’s not befitting the ruler of a kingdom.”

“Says the guy who invaded earth because you found out you were adopted.” Jane beat the pillow harder into her ear to block him out. “Now go away before I have you kicked out.”

“Do you believe that would work or do you want to know how I got in here undetected.”

Jane read once that deep breathing exercises helped calm you down. She went through every single one she knew, and she still wanted to strangle him when she was done. “Okay.” She sat up in bed. “I give. What do you want?”

He feigned bewilderment. “Want? Why on earth would I want anything? I only wished to visit my dear friend.”

Jane raised an eyebrow at him.

“Well, perhaps I was going to offer my assistance in your new responsibilities,” he rose to his feet and stood over her. “As a queen, you are entitled to as many consorts as you wish, though your first should be one adept at matters of ruling, should he not?”

They stared at each other for a good long time. Long enough that Jane was pretty sure the polar ice caps would melt between his finishing his sentence and her breaking out into a massive smile. “You know what? I just realized what’s going on here. It’s so obvious! Why didn’t I think of it before?”

She took Loki’s hand and dragged him to the window, laughing the entire way. “You wanna be king of Fostera, you got it, jack.” She threw open the window. A crowd of Fosterians was already waiting for her because of course. “Citizens of Fostera, as your Queen, I would like to make my first official proclamation.”

“Speak, my queen,” someone in the audience shouted.

“We will abide by your every word,” another screamed.

“Ah, you guys are the best,” Jane giggled. “Okay, so this is Loki, he’s a prince of Asgard. As of right now, I officially declare him my husband and King of Fostera. That is something I can do because I said so. So everyone hail King Loki.”

“ALL HAIL KING LOKI!” They obediently shouted. “ALL HAIL QUEEN JANE! ALL HAIL KING LOKI!”

“Awesome. I will be back with more royal decrees later.” Jane gave them a thumbs up and shut the curtains.

“That was an excellent proclamation,” Loki said. “I’m honored you’ve chosen me to be your king.”

“Don’t get used to it, buddy,” Jane said, crawling back into bed. “As soon I wake up, I’ll be back in my lab and you’ll be dead again because this is all just a vivid dream.  I’m not really ruling a planet. I didn’t just declare us married. It’s all in my imagination.”

Loki nodded thoughtfully. “I see… though on the slim chance this is real, were there any other official decrees you were considering?”

Jane snorted. “Sure, why not? Uh… make every third Saturday ‘World Science Day’ where people come up with a new inventions or experiments and present them in a monthly Expo. Let’s also rename those mountains the Darcy Lewis Range. She’d love that. Also, why don’t you go to earth and get a bunch of hot guys for that consort harem you were talking about?”

“Any candidates in mind?”

“Bucky Barnes for one,” Jane said, ticking names off on her fingers. “He’s a friend of Steve Rogers and he’s beyond gorgeous. You should see him work out. In fact, let’s also get Steve himself and that other friend of his, Sam Wilson. Clint Barton is good too, but please don’t mind control him again. And if there’s anyone else you think I’d like, by all means, bring them along.”

“Noted,” Loki said, practically skipping out the door. “Rest well my Queen. On my honor, your orders will be carried out before you wake.”

“Uh-huh, sounds great.” Jane rolled over and closed her eyes. “Nighty night, dream Loki.”

She was asleep in seconds, as Loki slowly closed the door with an evil smirk. “Goodnight, Jane…”

**

Jane opened her eyes the next morning expecting to see the slate gray walls of her lab and to be in a sleeping bag with an unfinished mug of coffee and some cereal next to her.

Instead, she was in her royal bedroom with a plate full of delicacies being held before her eyes by Loki.”Good morning. Hungry?”

Jane screamed. “WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE???”

“Offering you breakfast,” Loki said like it was the most obvious thing in the world. “I’m glad you’re awake. I have the last bit of paperwork you need to officially establish World Science Day and you’ll be pleased to know Darcy Lewis Range has just been christened.”

“But- but- but- but-”

“Also, your consort harem is waiting in the drawing room downstairs. I was able to round up all of your selections. I believe Mr. Barnes might have feelings for you. When I said I was bringing him to you, he assumed I had kidnapped you and attempted to strangle me.” Loki rubbed his neck, which sported a pair of hand shaped bruises on either side. “He does pack quite a punch.”

“Ah… guh... buh…”

“I found Rogers mid-battle. His foe was quite adamant that I wouldn’t end their fight or take the Captain with me. Some foolishness about being the only one allowed to defeat him. It was nonsense, but he seemed similar to the type you were asking for, so I brought him along as well. I believe Rogers called him ‘Rumlow’. Does that name mean anything to you?”

“Haaaah....”

“Well, no matter. You will meet him and the others soon enough. Fortunately, the rest were easy to take, though I had to wait for Barton to fall asleep to avoid an altercation.”

Loki led her along in her zombified state, down a hall which had been designed with her favorite colors and refurbished with a planets and stars motif. A life-sized statue of her had been erected on top of the stairwell. Everyone they passed bowed before their ruler, a loving whisper of ‘my queen’ on their lips.

Eventually, they reached a room with wide windows, through which Jane saw five men tied up on the couches, none of whom looked particularly happy to be there.

“Forgive me, dearest, it was the only way to prevent an escape attempt,” said Loki. “Not that it would matter. As it turns out, this planet is all the way on the other side of the galaxy from Earth. I suppose your young friend is right, only Jane Foster would find herself in this situation.”

He laughed and pressed a button on the wall, releasing the lock and allowing the door to slid open. With nothing else to do and a brain just now fully rebooted, Jane Foster of the planet Fostera stepped inside and faced the music.

[advicetomoms-blog]

24 Week Pregnancy

ou feel you are experiencing the most miraculous period of your life during your 24-week pregnancy, right? One of the things that made this period miraculous is that it will end with the greatest award of his life. What happens in a 24-week pregnancy like every week ? , Is how the 24-week baby development? we know you're wondering. We told them all, start reading now!

24 Week Pregnancy and Baby Development

How Many Months Is a 24-Week Pregnancy? Twenty-four weeks are included in the 6th month during pregnancy. The 6th month is the last month of the 2nd trimester. You no longer have to be skeptical about movements in your stomach: It's not gas, it's all babies! If you had gas, you couldn't stop! With the sixth month, as the small arms and legs begin to hit harder, you can watch your baby's gymnastic structure, sometimes hiccups from the outside. This month is now the end of the 2nd trimester, but there are still more roads to go and weight to be taken. Move a little more with the opportunity, then don't regret it! After all, honeymoon of 2nd trimester pregnancy. 24 Week Baby View

24 Week Baby View How 24-week pregnancy is experienced in the womb, we have explained here: Journey from a Poppy Seed to the Day of Birth: Baby in the WombWhat to Eat for Weight Loss and Development of the Baby During Pregnancy? 24 Weeks Baby Weight and Length Your baby gets heavier day by day! How many grams will a 24-week-old baby have? You can see the information about how tall you are in our table below. 24 week old baby development24 week old baby weight540-675g24 weeks old baby21 cm In 24 weeks of pregnancy, baby weight shows an increase rate of 180 grams weekly. The baby is still very small, although it is increasingly fat. But her face and body are more like a baby at birth.He has extraordinarily beautiful eyelashes, eyebrows and even a lot of hair. Since there is no pigment in their hair yet, it is not clear whether they are blond, brunette or red. Because now snow is white.This week he knows if the little baby is upside down or straight in the amniotic sac. This is because the inner ear, which provides the balance of the body, is developed.Babies born at 24 weeks are more than 50% more likely to survive, and this probability increases with each passing week. Nevertheless, serious complications are frequently encountered. 24 Week Baby Movements One of the most frequently asked questions about kicking in a 24-week pregnancy is, "My baby is kicking some days non-stop, some days are very calm, is this normal?" is happening. Let us not forget that fetuses are also human beings, so they feel active and alive some days like us, they say more kicks, I am here, and some days they want to stay calmly.24 week gestational movements balance yourself depending on your activity. When you have an active day, your baby calms down with your rhythm, this time it takes action when you have a calm day.You can observe that your baby is acting in response to the increase in blood sugar after eating. Or you may feel an increase in your movements when you are nervous or excited (because your adrenaline reaction stimulates it).Although the 24th to 28th weeks of pregnancy are the most active periods in pregnancy, irregularity is not a problem in kicking. After the 28th week, it will be healthier to follow the kicks and check them day by day.In addition, your baby sometimes kicks so hard that you feel painful and your ribs will crack. Because as the baby matures in the womb, it gradually gets stronger and the movements you feel as if butterflies are flying harden once. A kick you eat on your ribs, a blow to your stomach or cervix can hurt. Such situations can cause groin pain in 24 weeks of pregnancy. If your baby is attacked badly, you can try to change his position and distract him. This change may disrupt the balance of the little boxer, temporarily fending off the attack. 24 Week Baby Ultrasound Image

24 Week Baby Ultrasound Image If your 24-week ultrasound images do not overlap here, don't worry about it. Each baby's position and movements in the womb differ.

Changes in the Mother in a 24-Week Pregnancy

24-Week Pregnancy Image

24 Week Baby Ultrasound Image The uterus is now measured in the range of 3.8 to 5.1 cm above the belly button. How Many Weight Should Be Gained During 24 Weeks Pregnancy? By this week, your total weight gain should be between 6 and 7.3 kg.How Much Weight Should I Gain During Pregnancy?

Nutrition in 24 Weeks Pregnancy

During pregnancy, you must adapt some nutritional principles to daily life. You should prefer steaming or grilling instead of frying.Instead of frozen products, foods high in sugar and fat, you should consume fresh, seasonal fruits and vegetables and fish.To regularly implement your diet plan, you should eat as little outside as possible. Because the cooking method of outdoor meals and the use of oil are often troublesome. When you have to eat out, always look for healthy food alternatives prepared with a suitable cooking method. Ask what they can do for you even if it's not on the menu. Immerse yourself in the crowd and turn to harmful and empty calorie foods.

Complaints in the mother during 24 weeks of pregnancy

Vaginal Discharge in 24 Weeks Pregnancy: Attention to Color! You may still have a fine white vaginal discharge that is odorless or very slightly fragrant. There may be a risk of vaginal infection if this discharge is yellow or green and has a sharp odor or irritation, redness and itching in the vulva. It will be healthy to inform your doctor about the situation. Infections can be harmful to your baby if they are not treated. Milk in 24 weeks of pregnancy: mouth milk is coming! Your breasts may now be ready to produce milk. In fact, although it is quite early, you may notice watery and yellowish liquid droplets coming from the nipples. This is called "oral milk" and is filled with antibodies that fight active infections. A few days after birth, the baby gets food. Urinary Incontinence in 24 Week Pregnancy: Urine or Amniotic Fluid? As the baby grows, the placenta grows, the amount of amniotic fluid increases. As your pregnancy progresses, your uterus grows and gets heavier. At the beginning of pregnancy, the uterus is located behind the bladder and under the large intestine, while in the later periods it is above the bladder. As the size increases, it presses on the bladder. Sometimes it leaks, but it's hard to make sure you missed urine or leaked amniotic fluid. Because, urinary tract infection in 24 weeks of pregnancy is among the complaints of many pregnant women. This is of course not a special complaint for the 24th week. Every woman can experience complaints in different periods and at different frequencies. Since the urine flow is slow, there is always a risk of urinary tract infection. The slow urine flow is caused by the relaxation of the muscular elasticity of the urine pipes that carry the growing uterus and urine from the kidneys to the bladder. Therefore, the complaint of frequent urination continues during 24 weeks of pregnancy . However, if there are complaints such as pain and burning in addition to the increase in urination, the urinary tract may be infected. You should share all the concerns you have with your doctor and find answers to the question marks in your head. You should decide with your doctor whether what you are experiencing is urinary incontinence, urinary tract infection or amniotic fluid leakage. 24 Weeks Pregnancy and Sexuality Generally, women experience one of 2 attitudes towards their sexual life while pregnant. One is that the desire decreases in the first and third trimesters and increases in the second trimester. The second is that the desire gradually decreases as pregnancy progresses. In the second trimester, including 24-week pregnancy, the desire for sexuality increases in some women. Perhaps it is the first time that multiple orgasms are experienced. This is due to increased hormonal activity and increased blood flow in the pelvic region. As pregnancy progresses, you may realize that different positions are required. Your stomach starts to feel uncomfortable in many positions. It is not recommended to lie prone until the baby's birth from the 16th week. Because the weight of the uterus suppresses circulation. You can try to lie on the side or try the positions you are on top. For more detailed information about sexuality during pregnancy: Everything You Want to Know About Sexual Relationship During Pregnancy!Is Sexual Intercourse Harmful During Pregnancy? Opening the Uterus in a 24-Week Pregnancy An insufficient cervix means painless opening of the cervix. But after the 26th week, the painful version can also be observed. It may also result in premature birth. The enlargement of the cervix is ​​not noticed by the woman until the birth of the baby. It often occurs without warning signs. It can be detected by a doctor with vaginal ultrasound. If you have had such a problem in your previous pregnancy, share it with your doctor. It will be healthier to talk to your doctor in detail about your mind. Insomnia in 24-Week Pregnancy I have never had a sleep problem in my life but nowadays I cannot sleep at night, if you say you are not alone! It is not surprising to experience insomnia at night when you think about the need to go to the toilet at midnight, leg cramps, heartburn, the never-ending fever of the accelerated metabolism and a basketball ball standing right in the middle. Still, if you follow a few tips together, you can fight insomnia: Spend your day moving.Empty your head and relax.Don't rush your dinner.Don't go to bed right after a meal, but don't go hungry.Stop fluid intake after 6pm.Consume nothing that contains caffeine from the afternoon.Go to sleep at the same time every evening.Use comfortable support pillows.Get fresh air before bedtime.Get help from the scents that will bring your sleep, relax you.Just devote your bed and bedroom to lovemaking and sleeping.Keep stressful work and electronic devices away from your room.Take a warm shower before bed and read a few pages of books.Do relaxation and breathing exercises before sleeping. Preterm Birth Symptoms in a 24-Week Pregnancy Probably, starting from the 22nd week of pregnancy, the uterus performs exercises for birth pains and childbirth by exercising muscle mass. These are occasional painless contractions. The reason for the complaint of uterine pain in a 24-week pregnancy may be the upper part of the uterus or lower abdominal region and the groin feels tight. Sometimes normal complaints of pregnancy, such as contractions in the uterus (painful or painless), pain in the lower abdomen, back pain, cramps, changes in vaginal discharge, can be confused with preterm labor. Do not be afraid to think that you are at risk of preterm labor when you feel them. Because now doctors are testing fetal fibronectin to detect the risk of preterm labor. Fetal fibronectin is a protein found in the amniotic sac and fetal membranes. This protein is not normally found in a pregnant woman between 22 and 38 weeks of age. The presence of this protein in vaginal secretions of a pregnant woman after the 22nd week of pregnancy and before the 38th week increases the risk of preterm labor. Speak to your doctor about these kinds of worries, it will ease your heart. Baby Shower: Let the preparations begin! A baby shower party, where you and your baby's needs are completed, you meet your friends and have a pleasant time and you also congratulate your baby's arrival, isn't it? You should start preparing the list of materials you need. The purpose of this list is to make your friends who will come to the celebration guide you on the gifts they will receive! "It doesn't happen." You should not say. "What should I buy them?" The trouble; you are saving yourself from wandering around to get the things that should be taken pregnant. A good idea, accept it. Read the full article

[m96worthy]

Piña's Camping Survival Guide Vol. 1: Getting Past The Car Search

First of all I wanna start off by saying: I am not, nor do I consider myself to be, an expert in camping. Neither in camping at a festival, or in nature. As a matter of fact I was just online at 4am the other day looking at any little tips I might not know yet. That being said, I kinda know a lot lol. I have camped at Hard and Nocturnal in the past so I have a general idea on how searches are held. To put it bluntly, it’s impossible to know just how thoroughly you’ll be searched. There’s like 6 to 8 lines of cars coming through. You may have the line with the 25 year old who see’s that the line NEEDS to keep flowing so he just skims everything; only looking for glass, alcohol, and weapons. Oooorrr you could have that middle aged dickhead, who has no idea how he got put in a position to work this job, but he’s gonna take out all his frustrations out on you by searching every inch of your shit. Including your socks. Now that being said you’re probably gonna get an average in between person. Fact is, last year was Hardfest’s first year camping. Their lines to get searched for camping were RIDICULOUS. Why? Too many dickheads searching every square inch. So in assumption that they’ll wanna improve in every way possible for a better experience … the lines should move muuuch quicker, which theoretically means less of a search. Just so everyone knows: if you see a dog I am 98% sure he can not smell your drugs. But I’m sure as hell his master will smell your fear when he brings him sniffing your car. Play it cool. Weird side trick I picked up at Nocturnal, if you have a frisbee or a throwing ball or poi balls, go nuts with them. The officer cannot and will not stop you from playing in line, and his dog will be so distracted it’s quite hilarious. Haven’t tried it yet but it seemed to work really well from what I saw. But in a nut shell your search should basically be a “take everything out” skim skim skim “alright pack everything back up” and you dip (It’s a real bitch if you have a truckload of stuff that you barely got packed in there the first time. Pack light people please trust me, you don’t need it). Now that you have the run down on what it will be like getting searched we can move on how to properly hiding yo shiiieet. There’s only really three things to ever sneak into (in my knowledge) a campground: drugs, alcohol, and a piece. Trust me you’ll be the goat of all the goatland if you’re that one neighbor who got a bong in haha. I got one in both festivals I camped at. So let’s start with drugs. We’re not gonna suger coat it here and say something like, “oh drugs? I’ll skip this section because I’m a good child and I don’t do stuff like that”. Stfu and listen you heathen. Food is your friend. I garentee you if you brought enough food there’s no way you will have more drugs than food, let’s hope. Let’s say you have a “fruit snack packet sized” baggie stuffed full of euros… well buy a box of fruit snacks (of your choice of course I’m not dictating you) and shove it in there. DON’T OPEN THE BOX. I just mean to prop open the fold with your finger and squeeze it in there (pause). Shake it around, turn it upside down, go nuts. Trust me it won’t fall out. And if it doesn’t fit? Don’t be stupid haha, use less volume per drop. Do it a dozen times if necessary. It’s more safe in your food than your luggage always. I’m sure there’s dozens of options you can have with food, once I took out a whole thing of pringles and put my weed at the bottom. Worked like a charm only problem was all my Pringles smelt and tasted like weed heavy😂 I ate them though, mama ain’t raise no bitch! But get creative, please send me your ideas, I’m never too wise to be taught something. I literally just thought of one right now though off the top of my head, might be easier said then done actually…. But take out like the middle section of a loaf of bread and cut a hole to hollow it and put it back filled with… whatever. But be careful not to alter the weight a dumbass amount, and don’t leave empty space that moves around when shaken. Think small with this even though the loaf is big. I’ll have to try it myself I dont even know don’t listen to me haha. But of course you need to know your car, you feel me? Like I can’t tell you where a good spot to hide your stuff would be, it’s your car. Then lastly the obvious but most overlooked choice: just hide it on you. You’re not gonna sit here and tell me that you can sneak that stuff in the festival, but not your campsite. As if there’s staff searching bodis more heavily than they do the day of the festival (remember this is the Friday before not Saturday morning). So yeah that’s literally everything I know with that, because I can’t think of odd things I might have overlooked. Let me know we can think of something I’m sure. Moving foward to alcohol. If you’re a beer person I’m just gonna go ahead and crush your dreams right now. At Hard you can only bring in one case of beer OR one box of wine per car. Not box per person that’s 21 like Nocturnal. It’s a bitch, life’s not fair, we can sit here and cry all day but that’s the rule. Now this is another idea off the top of my head, because I personally haven’t done it, but you can spend the time to disguise the beers in a case of soda and just super glue the case closed again. Just be sure to use a can of a similar color, and also fill the ends of the box with sodas as decoys juuust in case. A little side note to have decoys of everything that has something hidden in it (water cases, food boxes, ect). Now that I told you how to sneak in your beer all safe and sound I’m gonna turn right around and tell you to stop being a little bitch and live without it. It’s not worth it dude, for multiple reasons. One its a waste of space. I can’t stress enough how little you want to bring with you. Start planning now and be smart. Two, it’s a waste of ice. Because you’re gonna be taking these warm beers and filling the ice chest with them to cool off therefore melting the ice unnecessarily. Three, it’s a waste of time. Be happy with the one case, I know, it hurts me too. But I’m telling you if you just buy a case of beer right before you get to the speedway it’ll still be a little cold when you get inside the campground, and if not it won’t take much to cool it versus it being warm or hot even. You can use that one case you have for BP, or just general drinkage, on that first night Friday. That way you killed it off right from the jump and you have space opened up from finishing it. If you’re worried about what you’ll drink the rest of the weekend, bring liquor. Vodka and clear liquors take the cake in simplicity so I do recommend these. But basically cut out, or shimmy out it you can swing it, about 3 or so bottles from the bottom. Fill em up with your liquor and put them back. Stack between two more cases of water as decoys (no one will shame you for being over hydrated trust me) and you’re good to go. If you cut the case open just do you best to cover it. Packing tape should work, but you can try to glue it if you’re a wizard. But yo, just think about these things when you’re shopping for your supplies. Every case of water differs in packaging. Make it easy in yourself by choosing the on that looks shrink wrapped. Guy: “But what if I like brown liquor man. I only drink whisky cause I ain’t no bitch” or Girl: “but I wanna make piña coladaaaaassssss. Please Matt! Can’t we bring some captain or crown? They’ll be so good trust me” Really nigga….? I just gave you a sure fire way to get in, potentially a lot of, vodka and you’re gonna get picky on your choice of alcohol? Damn. Well… go buy 4 gallon jugs of Arizona iced tea and drink 2 of them. Why? Because I’m not gonna sit here and tell you to throw away 2 gallons of perfectly good iced tea you wasteful bitch 😂 Now, fill one with Crown and the other with Captain and be happy. “But why did I buy 4 jugs?” Decoys! Pay attention dude geez smh. Now I’m SURE there’s a whole list of ways to sneak your liquor in. You’re probably gonna try and share some with me and I’ll pretend to value those options. But I’m telling you right now from personal experience that both these methods I just said work and there’s no reason for me to know another way. Cause I don’t know like any other ways literally haha. I’m sorry, I’m only human. Wow honestly I can’t believe how much I’ve typed so far. I hope you’re soaking this in while staying semi entertained with my writing I’m trying to keep it fun. Moving forward. A piece! I’m just gonna say right here I am a spoiled ballsy bastard who loves his bongs. So I risked it for the biscuit, and it was worth it taking bong rips at camp all weekend. Hard last year I put my bong in a towel and put it at the bottom of my clothes and shoved everything on top. I had “skim guy” so no worries, nobody found it, but let’s just assume I got lucky. At Nocturnal my buddy had a panel in his car that he could pull back and stick the piece in there. Worked like a charm. But like I said this goes back to the section on knowing your car. Inside and out, if drug mules can put kilos on kilos in a Corolla I’m sure you can find a spot for your piece. Use google to help because whatever you’re thinking someone has already thought of it. Sad but true. Brushing aside my past experiences to bring fresh ideas to the table … I think I’m gonna put aside my silver spoon. There’s waaaayyy too many dope rigs and pipes and bubblers out there that normally I wouldn’t use cause I have better, but they are perfect for these moments. Go invest. And I actually have two reasons for this with one being a past trauma. But first off it’s just way easier to hide, plain and simple, 2x2" to 3x3" piece will always be easier to hide then a 5x12" peice. So secondly it’s not that I’m too scared now to try and hide it, cause I’m down. But on the very last hour we spent at Hard, I’m talking the Monday morning packing up, we were taking dabs under the canopy. And because people were clearing out around us a security officer was able to spot us from pretty far out (lol far out👽) and rolled up on us out of no where in a golf cart and took all his stuff. It was just really heartbreaking (RIP that rig) and it wasn’t even mine. I’d just hate to lose or break a 120 dollar set up when I can buy a 20 dollar little mini rig. Plus there’s always joints and wax pens as an addition or an alternative, bitches love joints and wax pens lol.

[emarkly-blog]

What marketing strategies work for small businesses today? What are the best ways to get customers to know about your business, contact you, or make a purchase? Here are 24 marketing strategies that work for small businesses.

Image source: Photospin

Finding the right marketing strategies to use has always been a challenging task for small businesses. But the growing number of marketing channels available today make it even more difficult to find the best marketing strategies to build your business. The consumer who's searching the web for the best price on printing business cards may never see your ad in the local newspaper. The woman who gets a text message at 11:15 am from a nearby deli telling her that today's lunch special includes a free diet soda may never bother to look at the coupons your bagel shop mailed with a similar offer. The homeowner who needs a dishwasher repaired may look first at the classified ads in the local weekly newspaper. And, the middle school teacher who thinks her students and their parents spend too much of their waking hours using computers or other digital devices may never see the free sample ad you're running on Facebook.

So, what is the best way to promote your business today? Unfortunately, there's no one push-button marketing idea that will send a steady stream of customers to your door. Whether you sell products or services, you must use multiple marketing strategies to attract and keep customers.

The list below presents a variety of marketing strategies and ideas. Some of the ideas are pretty basic, but very often it's those all-important basic marketing strategies that businesses forget or ignore.

If you've been in business for a long time and haven't changed your marketing methods over the years, pay particular attention to the strategies that involve the Internet and digital marketing. No matter how your existing customers found you, businesses and consumers today regularly turn to digital media to gather information about their needs and research service providers before deciding which service provider they'll use. You want them to find your company.

1. Identify a target market. Create a profile of your ideal customer. What type of person buys this service most frequently today? Why do they need and strongly desire this service? What is their job function? If it's a consumer product, where do they live? How old are they? How much money to they earn? What other factors make them a likely customer? Where are they most likely to look for the service or hear about it? Who might they ask for a referral?

Once you answer those questions, ask yourself one more: "Where should I be networking or what should I be doing to make myself known to that potential customer or to people who give the prospect referrals." After you've answered the questions, act on them.

2. Promote what your customer wants to buy. Customers don't really want the service you perform. They want the solution to a problem or benefit your service provides. Think about it. A plumber's customers aren't really interested in plumbing. They want a leaky pipe fixed. A web developers' customers don't want a database or design. They want a website that will make them look good, get found in search engines, and help them get new customers. If you need help figuring out what your customers are really buying, ask them. Write down their answers and use Get better results from all the marketing you do by focusing on the specific problems your service solves or benefits it provides.

3. Make yourself a trusted resource to prospects and customers. People like to buy from people they know and trust. They also don't like to have anything "sold" to them. Become a trusted resource to your prospects by providing information that will help them make a good choice.

4. Make yourself a resource for the media. Members of the press are always looking for authoritative sources to quote. Keep in touch with local media through online and offline network groups and subscribe to HARO to receive inquiries from media who are looking for interview subjects for stories.

5. Set up professional profiles for yourself and/or your business on LinkedIn, Twitter, Facebook and Google Profiles (which also serves as your profile on Google+). Be sure each of your profiles has a link to your website. If you meet a prospect and they lose your business card, they might type your name into the search engine to try to find you. Having a profile on the biggest social media sites will allow them to find you and the link to your website.

6. Claim your place on Google Places. Google places listings aren't just for fast food establishments or retail stores. You can search for any type of service by location, and Google will show a list of companies that match the service you searched for in the location you specified. If you live in a big city, there's no guarantee your places profile will show up on that first page listing. But having a profile gives you an edge.

7. Look for social media discussions groups that attract your target customers. Depending what you sell, look for topic-specific groups and/or location-based discussion groups. Set aside a few minutes a day to read the conversations, and then join in when appropriate, making informative comments or posting useful resources. If you don't have time to do this, hire a freelancer or an employee help by scouting out conversations that you may want to participate in.

8. Write informative articles related to the service you provide. Put some of the articles on your own site, and distribute others to articles sites and to other sites that reach your audience and use contributors' articles. Be sure to include an "about the author" resources box with a link to your website. (For more tips on article marketing, read Article Marketing Do's and Don'ts.) The articles will help get yourself and your company known, and help establish your credibility.

9. Print up flyers or brochures and distribute them at membership groups you belong to, if allowed. You can get free templates from HP and Microsoft you can use to create your own. Print small quantities of flyers or product sheets yourself on a color printer. (Be sure to use good quality paper – something heavier than standard copier paper.) When you know you'll need a hundred or more copies at a time, compare the cost of having them printed to the cost of printing your own. Be sure to allow enough time to have the printing delivered to you.

10. Volunteer to speak at local business groups. Local business groups always need interesting speakers to attract members to meetings. Your talk should be about some area of your specialty, but should focus on the audience's informational needs and the problems they want to solve.

11. Submit proposals to speak at industry group conferences. If you don't have a lot of experience speaking, see if you can get on a panel, instead of giving a solo speech. Be sure to promote your participation in the panel before the event, and link to any videos or other after-event promo the conference planner has posted.

12. Refer business to other businesses in your networks. Giving referrals is as important a networking tool as getting them. People recommend people they like….and business people usually like other business people who send them business.

13. Tweet, mention and link to blog posts and social networking posts made by other individuals if what they've written something of interest to your audience. Besides providing good material for your followers, it's a good way to win social media friends, expand your network, and get your name and specialty known.

14. Build an email list and send informative mailings to it on a regular basis. Your mailing list should be made up of people who have asked to be on it. (Having a newsletter signup box on your web page is one good way to get people to "ask" to be on your mailing list.)

15. Join and participate in local business groups and try one or two leads groups as well. The best source of business for many small service businesses is referrals.

16. Stick with groups that attract the types of people you want as customers. Even when people don't really know you, you become a more trusted resource just by showing up.

17. Keep in touch with potential customers and existing customers with a postcard mailing. The person who doesn't have time to talk to you today, may need your services (or know someone else who does) a month or 6 months from now.

18. Ask for referrals. Besides asking existing clients if they know anyone else who can use your services, consider what other professionals you know who could refer business to you – and vice versa. If you're an electrician, talk to local builders and remodeling contractors, plumbers, and people who lay tile. If you are a graphic designer talk to web designers and ad agencies, about referring work.

19. Pick up the phone and call likely prospects. Cold calling is hard and you have to be able to deal with rejection. But it does work. If you are fearful about trying it, check out this article about making cold calls easier.

21. Don't be too quick to discourage tire kickers. It's hard to know where to draw the line with people who keep asking questions without any indication they plan to make a purchase, but sometimes those questions are used as much to size you or your business up as they are to gain information.

22. Have a website and publicize it. It amazes me, but there are still businesses that don't have a website. I was at a Chamber of Commerce meeting a few months ago and met someone who said he was a copywriter. I asked for a business card, and his card didn't include his website, so I asked for his website URL. Amazingly, the person who had just tried to convince me he could write copy for the web, didn't have a website.

No matter how much in-person networking you do or how much social media networking you do, you still need a website. Your prospects will want to see samples of your work, get more information about you, and if you're a consultant or other expert, they're probably going to want to read things you've written about your area of expertise. You can control what they see on your own website. You can't control what ads show up next to your posts or what the rules are on social media sites.

If you can't afford to pay a web developer, set up at least a simple website using free or low cost website hosting and design tools such as Weebly or GoDaddy. Once you have a website, be sure it's listed on all your sales literature, your business card, association member directories, and as many places as you can get listings.

23. Have a fully functioning website. Another circumstance I find amazing is the number of small businesses who join local business networking groups and have non-working websites listed in the group's membership directory. Occasionally it's because the directory listing was published with a typo in the domain name. But often, it appears the business that owned the domain name let it lapse – or never finished setting up the website. Don't let that happen to you. Be sure you register the domain name yourself (instead of letting the web developer do it), and be sure that you keep your credit card information up-to-date at the domain registrar. Double check your association directory listing after it's published to be sure there are no typos and the link works. Check each page on your site to be sure you didn't leave up any links going to blank pages or to "under construction pages."

24. Don't stop marketing. Once business starts coming in on a regular basis it's tempting to ease off on some of the marketing and networking you do. But that's a mistake. You need to market continually to keep business coming in regularly.