#and i have never gone in to clean them out in the decade i've been on tumblr

[dollsahoy]

Reminder: Bot followers are not 'good for increasing your follower count' because, one, follower count does not matter on Tumblr, and, two, allowing them to follow your blog gives them better SEO because it attaches their web presence to actual legitimate real live people

and no-one wants that

[fearandhatred]

Good omens, “feather”, for the writing ask meme! -goodoldfashionednightingale

bestie!!! thank u for this lovely word, have some post-final fifteen crowley pov angst

our minds don't work like human minds; it's not a fact that's hard for anyone to comprehend. the humans know it too, they write it in their stories. but our minds aren't separate entities from theirs altogether, just… different. for example, our minds can store more information than all mortals in the world combined and then some, both in breadth and depth. we have faster cognitive abilities, recognition that comes faster than the shortest unit of time humanly invented. we can replay memories in our heads as vividly as they happened.

it takes a thousand years to forget.

i'll plead guilty to some of it: even as the years passed, years and then decades, even when the image of your face behind my eyelids started to grow spots of mould and permanent sunlight—even then, i thought you'd return. it wasn't unlike you to change your mind, not unlike you to come back to me. and so when i finally had the sense that maybe i should be preserving some things of you, all the photos turned to ash under my touch. that was a hundred years in.

i found your feather in a drawer, a month after you left. i don't know why it was there, why you kept it, but a hundred years in, i was grateful. you'd taken the polaroid with you. in memory of me, perhaps. maybe you thought i wouldn't want or need it. or maybe you weren't thinking of what i wanted or needed at all, because two hundred years after you left, you were still gone.

i don't know when exactly it dawned on me that when you said you were leaving, you meant it. every time i try to remember, i remember an earlier time. five hundred years in, two hundred, twenty years, six months, a week. sometimes i think i'd known the moment you said it.

it's a february afternoon, with biting wind and rain that felt like snow, when i finally lose you. it's cold all the time now. the whole street is gone, bare land with not even a shadow where the bookshop used to be. trees don't bloom like they used to, and i've lost you. i'd never paid attention before to how a memory looked in my head; i'd never wanted to keep a memory as pristinely clean and spotless as it was before, until you left. but after all the papers disintegrated in my hands—the photos of you, the drawings of me—i started to take notice.

it wasn't all that dissimilar to how movies looked back then, when we watched them together: the memories started to flicker and pale, black spots like dust flecks in front of projector lights. then they lost all sound and colour, your speech wordless and mouth moving like a mute ventriloquist's puppet. and then they got blurry, smoothened, the lines of your face ironed out until you were featureless.

when i try to think of you now, the film strips jam and shred in the reel, and the screen remains black. all i have now are the words i used to describe you with in my head, ones i no longer remember the truth of—that and this yellowing feather, once a shade of white your wings might have been.

[luverofralts]

Arkhelios Adventures

"It's a shame about the Harvest Moon Ball. I guess I'll have to save this mask for next year."

Miruna Maricourt stared at her reflection. She had really been looking forward to the ball, especially because every political leader needed to blow off steam after the events in Twikkii Island. She and Claudia had retired to their bed chambers for the night, but neither one of them was tired. The news about the canceled ball had caught everyone by surprise and rumors were flying.

"Do you really think that Crystal Cove received death threats?" Miruna asked. "I've heard people say that you and I were involved with shutting the ball down and that we have some demonic army trained to invade while Liam sorts out the backlash. That man will run that country into the ground if he keeps up like this."

"It's cowardly for Liam to back out of hosting it," Claudia agreed. "You don't let threats and terrorists win, otherwise people will know that they can walk all over you. Invading his country would be a breeze if I ever wanted to. The people would gladly welcome a leader who knows how to protect her people without giving up a single thing. Doesn't he realize that getting the international leaders in one place with their guard down is priceless? He could actually obtain information that would protect his realm instead of hiding."

"That was my thought as well. Get a few monarchs or their families and staff drunk and just wait for the confessions to start rolling in."

Miruna's staff appeared in an instant at the first sign of an intruder. The figure on the ground wasn't making any sudden moves, but Miruna's duty was to protect her queen and her fiancée at all costs. She couldn't let her guard down for a second. She recognized the intruder at least, though she had to idea of whether that was a good thing or not.

"Lukas, you're up late. To what do we owe this honour?"

Claudia crossed her arms defensively, but tried not to betray her interest in the intruder. Very few people could get through the magical wards around the castle, so intruders weren't a regular occurrence. Obviously, those meant nothing to a deity.

Claudia had always been intrigued by Lukas. Growing up, her parents didn't really mention them unless Lukas had gone on an emotional rampage, leaving a mess in their wake that fell to the reapers to clean up. They popped in and out of the reapers' business from time to time, but was otherwise absent from their husband's realm. Claudia had never seen Lukas up close before, and had certainly never expected them to show up in her bedroom. They seemed to crackle with wild energy, power bursting from within them that lashed across the room. It was nothing like the power Claudia had seen her parents display over the years. It was mesmerizing.

"You need to talk that idiot into having the Harvest Moon Ball," Lukas demanded. They looked pissed off, only increasing the energy Claudia could feel building in the room. "It's happened for centuries, even during the Demon Wars. That war lasted nearly a decade and they never canceled it once!"

"The ball? What do you care about a ball?" Claudia asked curiously. "Is it a trap you're working on? A calculated conspiracy to overthrow the Crystal Cove government again? You'd have my support; Liam is a terrible leader. His mother is my Aunt Juniper, and she's nothing like him at all. It's sad."

"Claudia!" Miruna hissed, looking worried. "If they take over Crystal Cove, what will stop them from conquering us as well?"

"A valid concern," Lukas agreed. "Unfortunately, my duties don't allow me the time to run a mortal country, and my husband would be disappointed in me for troubling the mortals in ways I'm not allowed. I'm afraid your reign is quite safe from me."

"But not the good tiaras," Miruna added snidely. "Our last inventory counted two missing, one of which I was planning to wear to the Harvest Moon Ball."

Lukas made a dismissive gesture at this, and Miruna glowered back at them. She stared expectantly at her fiancée, but Claudia was still staring in awe at the deity. She had felt the presence of the world of death all of her life, and to suddenly see the exact opposite manifested in one being was fascinating. She wondered how many times her father had seen Life in his travels at work. He would love to be here geeking out about the mysteries of the universe. She would have to call him when Lukas left.

"You didn't answer my question," Claudia stated, working on finding her royal composure. "What's a ball worth to you? There's the Goldman Memorial Ball coming up soon in Twikkii Island. Just move whatever you're planning to there."

"We're not doing your dirty work," Miruna added, her words dripping with venom. "You go talk to Liam if you need this ball so badly. He's afraid of you, and we're not."

"What the hell did I ever do to you?" Lukas demanded. "It's not like this is hard. Just talk to the man and make it clear that you want the ball reinstated."

Claudia eyed her fiancée with concern. She was uncharacteristically angry at the deity. Miruna was the sweetest witch in her coven and a favourite of the young witches she taught. She had no reason to argue with the literal god that had appeared in their bedroom.

"You can't seriously just expect to walk into my bedroom and boss me around. You can't control me or Claudia like your fake reapers and your little line of minions you force to serve you. If you want something, then I refuse to do it."

"Miruna."

Claudia's voice silenced the tirade her fiancée was about to launch, but Miruna's face still looked angry. What Claudia had wanted to shout was, "Miruna, what the hell are you talking about?" but that wouldn't present a strong, united image in front of a god.

Claudia tried to decipher Miruna's reaction quickly so she could prevent the next outburst and steer the conversation away from whatever was triggering the witch. It couldn't be a work thing. Outside of following Theo, Lukas rarely appeared in magical matters. Their kids did go to the same school Miruna taught at, but if it was a school matter, surely Claudia would have heard about it. Victoriana also attended there and Claudia knew that she could count on her daughter for important intel.

If it wasn't about work or magic, what could the problem possibly be? Miruna rarely did anything else. Her magical career was everything to her and it consumed most of her waking hours. She even missed some royal occasions that a future consort really should attend because something magical popped up. If her father suddenly died, Miruna could step into his role immediately without the slightest bit of effort.

Maybe Lukas' husband was the problem. People did tend to avoid Death if they could, even though he seemed like a perfectly nice man. Miruna didn't have any dead relatives that were important to her, at least not any that Claudia knew about. Miruna's mother had been a deadbeat parent growing up, but as far as Claudia knew, she was very much alive. There weren't many people who Miruna was truly close to. Her work friends, her coven friends, her half-siblings...Claudia was drawing a blank on any other important relationship in her fiancée's life. Unless....

Claudia's heart sank, realizing just why her future wife was glowering at a deity. It was a problem with Lukas' kids, just not their biological ones. Miruna had dated Arterius for several months in high school. They used to be inseparable even before dating. He was her best friend and her boyfriend. It seemed inevitable that the two of them would end up married, but the relationship soured as they grew older. Miruna knew that Arterius' parents didn't approve of the match, even if they didn't say anything verbally. It was in the way they stared at her or the sigh they'd release when Arterius asked if she could stay for dinner that night. Miruna used to vent about Life and Dearh when she and Claudia were dating, but Claudia hadn't taken it seriously. What were the odds of Miruna running into Arterius' parents ever again?

Claudia wasn't sure of how to proceed. Was she jealous of the anger Miruna felt for an ex-boyfriend' parents? Did this mean that she wanted Arterius back? Claudia knew that she didn't want Roman back in her own life, even if she wouldn't mind him in her bed for old time's sake. So did Miruna feel the same? Was she marrying Claudia for money and power, or for love? Did Claudia mind if her future marriage was based on something other than love? It was something to think about when there wasn't a deity in her bedroom.

Claudia blinked and missed Lukas slipping from their female form into their male form. Was Lukas showing dominance by shifting, or was it motivated by throwing Miruna off guard? Claudia wanted to devour every secret the deity had and write them in a book to reread at her leisure. She was definitely calling her dad when this meeting was over.

"Look, I'm not here to take over your throne or attack you or whatever it is you hate about me," Lukas sighed. "I just need that ball to happen, and Liam is afraid of you in a way that he isn't afraid of me. I need him to feel pressure from the living, not from a god. Let's just say that I've been encouraged from 'headquarters' to interfere less in non crucial mortal matters."

"So we'd be doing you a favour?" Claudia asked, her eyes gleaming with excitement. "I've never had a god owe me a favour before. Could I ask you for anything in return?"

Lukas looked dismayed at the thought, which told Claudia that she was on the right track.

"Within reason. Within what I think is reasonable, which isn't a lot. I don't usually do deals, that's all Izanami's department, but it's within my power to make one. Only because you're a queen and the daughter of reapers. I don't think I've ever seen anyone brave enough to ask me for a deal before."

"Claudia...." Miruna trailed off, looking at her fiancée worriedly. "You can't trust them. Just say no and kick them out of here."

"All I have to do is get Liam to agree to the ball, and I can ask one favour from you?" Claudia asked. When the deity nodded, Claudia grinned. "Yeah, I can do that. Can I ask why you care so much about this ball?"

"Is that your favour?" Lukas replied wearily. "I don't share my motivations with mortals unless they work for me. And even then, they're better off not knowing."

Claudia quickly shook her head while Miruna groaned.

"Nope, never mind then. I'll save my favour for when I need it. Do we need to shake hands or sign something to make our deal? I have a pen around here somewhere."

Lukas paused, legitimately unsure of the proper procedure of deal making. Demons made physical contact to form deals, but Izanami hated making unneeded physical contact with anyone. Lukas' own powers were probably closer to a demon's than their husband's, but Lukas didn't feel the same pull to energy that they'd heard demons describe. They didn't need energy or souls or whatever it was that demons wanted and Izanami had only played with the mortals out of boredom.

They quickly summoned a brilliant fire into their hand and snuffed it out in a millisecond. Humans loved theatrics after all.

"There, it's done," they lied. "One favour in exchange for the Harvest Moon Ball resuming its planned schedule. I'll be back to check in on your progress later this week."

"Claudia! They're dangerous! What if they want the ball to happen to unleash something terrible? We could be helping set up a plan against Crystal Cove!"

"Life can't kill people," Claudia laughed, miming a monster attack. "My parents said so. Death, on the other hand, is scary and can kill you whenever he likes. Life doesn't operate that way. Just look at Leo Toyonaga. He works for Lukas and he's just fine. I can get Liam to reinstate the ball in an hour. Nothing bad will happen, and even if it does, you and your dad will be there to protect us."

"This is a bad idea," Miruna hissed. "What if this is all a setup for another assassination? What if they're just helping their husband get the next victims to all gather in the same place?"

"Then they'd just pick the Goldman Memorial Ball," Claudia scoffed. "All the same people will be there, and it's hosted in Twikkii Island. That's the target I'd pick if I wanted to hurt the Twikkii Island royal family."

The couple continued to bicker, while Lukas finally allowed their mind to wander. The message had been delivered, and they could go home and leave all the mortals' suspicion behind. Claudia wouldn't understand their need for the Harvest Moon Ball to continue, and they didn't feel the need to explain themselves.

True, they had partially asked for their daughter's sake, as Destiny had been crushed to hear that the ball had been canceled. They also had the selfish desire to attract attention in front of the Crystal Cove royal family and feel all eyes lock on them and the incredible outfit they would no doubt be wearing. If Claudia had pressed harder, they would have admitted those motivations to her. Their reputation would only be strengthened by the queen thinking them to be a self-involved narcissist who only cared about attention. It would make people underestimate them.

The real reason? That was a closely guarded secret. One that only Izanami could possibly guess, and even he might not understand it completely.

The mortals had stirred up memories Lukas hadn't thought about for years with their chasing after the ghosts of reapers. Each name they whispered among themselves, looking for clues, had been a person once. Nearly all of those people Lukas had known. The Demon Wars were nearly a millenia ago now, and still Lukas could picture Alicia Wenlock dancing in the grand ballroom and breaking hearts wherever she went. Victoria Evans had nearly exposed her reaper status to the entire ball after getting caught with her equally dead wife in the coat room. So many memories, both good and bad, threatened to overwhelm the deity. The Harvest Moon Ball had been a constant in their lives. Losing it to a cowardly king's choice wasn't an option.

The barriers between the living world and the dead were thinner around the time of the annual ball, which Lukas fully intended to exploit as well. If ghosts were being seen and the foundation of the universe was once again in danger, then Lukas might need to catch a stray phantom to interrogate. The ball was the perfect hunting ground. Holding the annual ball year after year without end over the span of centuries had ingrained the tradition into the lot itself. Breaking that pattern might break some of the magic Lukas was counting on. Breaking traditions that old was often dangerous.

"Dammit!" Miruna swore upon noticing that their visitor had vanished. "They're gone. What if they took something when we were talking?"

"I don't see anything out of place," Claudia replied. Her eyes narrowed now that they had privacy. "When were you going to tell me that you hate the two strongest creatures in the universe? My parents work with Life and Death. I sometimes need their cooperation when situations come up. I can't have you suddenly turning feral whenever they show up."

"I won't," Miruna responded coldly, folding her arms. "I don't know what you're talking about. I just don't want to see you throw everything you have away. Both deities are dangerous and untrustworthy. No matter what they want, it will always be trouble. Don't trust them just because your parents think they're great. They don't know what it's like to lead a powerful nation, along with a coven. This is our world, leave the gods to theirs."

"And this has nothing to do with Arterius?" Claudia snapped. "Nothing at all about how the two of you broke up because his family didn't approve?"

Miruna's already cold shoulder grew even colder at these words.

"I'll be sleeping in the guest suite tonight," she declared. "Maybe you'll come to your senses tomorrow."

Claudia waited until the sound of footprints disappeared and then reached for her phone. Miruna was just bitter. She'd come around in a few days, but until then, Claudia had a call to make.

"Hey, Dad? We need to talk. Something bizarre just happened, and I think you're going to want to know about it. No, nothing's wrong. It's crazy, but Lukas was just in my bedroom! Yes, that Lukas. No, I don't think they took anything. Have you ever stood next to them when they changed forms? It's incredible! I'll come over tomorrow and we'll make a note of it for the archives. I think future monarchs might have an interest in more information about what Lukas is really like. It was so cool!"

[bqstqnbruin]

Jake DeBrusk Teacher AU

There is no reason why I should have 15 of these other than I can but here we are anyway. Enjoy the cameo from Brock and Lennox

Teacher AU Series

Warnings: this is angst (I've written 14 before this it should have been a surprise that none of them were angst)

WC:1235

___________________

We would like to congratulate Connie on her engagement to Brian. We wish them the best of luck as they begin this new chapter of their life together.

Jake stared at his email for longer than he should have, trying to convince himself that what he saw in front of him wasn’t true. Or, at the very least, would somehow change to say someone else’s name instead of the one person he thought of constantly. 

Before he could process anything, his students started to file into his classroom, switching his tab from his email to his attendance portal. He was supposed to do a class discussion with the students about their readings last night, but there was no way he could really stand in front of his students right now. 

He takes in a deep breath, exhaling before he calls his class to attention to start. “Alright,” Jake says, his students chatter slowly dying down. “We were going to spend class today discussing the readings, but you don’t want to do that, and, if I’m being honest with you, I don’t want to do that either.”

“So we get a study hall?” Piper calls from the back of the class, the students starting to talk again.

“No,” he shuts them down. “We’re going to start a little assignment: we’ve read and talked about a lot of moments through history all over the world. I want you,” he says, getting up from his chair to write on the board, “to get into groups of three. With the readings from last night, I’m going to assign you a decade and you have to connect at least two of the readings to things that happened in that decade, anywhere in the world that isn’t Europe, since that’s where the readings take place. You have to do countries from two different continents, but those events can take place anytime within your assigned decade.’

He turns around to his students, watching them take out their laptops and already start talking about who they were going to work with. “You’re going to work on your presentation today and tomorrow in class, and we can talk at the end of tomorrow to see if we’re ready to present. I want you to think about how the events are similar to what happened in the readings, how they’re different, could they possibly be cause and effect of each other?”

The students get into their groups, Jake walking around to the little pods they formed and give them their decades, impressed with himself that he thought of that on the spot. Improvising like that wasn’t normally his strong suit. He was just thankful the students were actually working and talking to each other about their readings despite half the class clearly not looking at them until now.

While they were busy working, he went back to his email, exited the one announcing Connie’s engagement to the fiance Jake couldn’t stand. 

He had met him a couple of times at various after school things; dance performances, musicals, the faculty parties where they were allowed to bring their partners if they wanted to. Brian was kind of an asshole, if Jake did admit it. From what Connie told him, he never helped her with cleaning, he always expected her to have dinner on the table by the time he got home, and was kind of standoffish if she didn’t get the timing right, he would call multiple times to ask when she was coming home if they were going out for dinner or drinks after school. 

Jake remembered when Connie told him she started dating Brian; he had been sitting in Brock’s room when she and Lennox came in giggling, telling the boys how well Connie’s date the night before had gone with one of Lennox’s friends. He looked at Brock, the devastation on his face nearly impossible to hide despite the fact that Connie seemed to happy with Brian that she didn’t even notice. 

“Mr. D?” he jumps, snapping out of the depression spiral he was sending himself on. Paige was standing at his desk, hugging her computer against her chest. “Are you ok?”

“Yeah, kid. Just haven’t drank water,” he partially lied. His full water bottle was sitting there on his desk next to his empty coffee mug, but why would he tell his students he was upset about another teacher getting engaged? “What’s up?”

Paige launches into a series of questions about the project, Gem and Surya sitting at their desks looking annoyed while they waited for her to come back. 

By the time she was done, Jake was slightly more exhausted than he had been before she came to his desk (he adored the girl, but her energy was a lot sometimes, especially when he was already in a mood) when Brock and Lennox came in, greeting the last of the students walking out on their way to lunch. 

“You look horrible,” Brock says, sitting down at the desk facing Jakes. 

“Thanks,” he mumbles.

“So you saw the email?” Lennox asks, a sympathetic look on her face. 

She sits down next to Brock, his friend’s hand absentmindedly finding her thigh and gently moving back and forth. 

God he wanted that.

He wanted that with the one person he couldn’t have it with.

“The one time I actually read my email.”

“Hey, I can set you up with one of my friends,” Lennox says, perking up. “What do you want in a girl?”

Jake thinks for a second. “Someone who likes going down those rabbit holes I go down, you know? They can get excited like I do when they start reading something and just dive so deep into it that I can’t wait to get out and tell someone. Someone who makes me smile and laugh. Someone that will make me excited to come home to and to see everyday. Someone who’s passionate, caring, outspoken.”

“You want someone like Connie,” Brock points out.

“I would rather be with Connie.” The three of them sit in silence, Jake looking at his watch and choking down a wave of tears he really didn’t want to let free. “We should go eat. We’ve only got twenty minutes left before next period.”

A week later, Connie opens her email, a slew of them from students about their upcoming test that they were all somehow not ready for despite the fact that they had two weeks notice and two days in class to review. One email in particular catches her eye from her principal, the subject like ‘News to Share.’

At the end of the year, Jake will be leaving our community to pursue his next adventure. Please join me in thanking Jake for his dedication to our students…

Connie didn’t read the rest of the email, her heart starting to race. There was no way Jake was going to be leaving the school without telling her.

She rushes over to his room, panic rushing through her that she couldn’t understand. Of course she would be upset over her friend leaving, but like this?

“Why?” she asks, barging into his room, fiddling with her engagement ring that suddenly felt awkward and unwanted on her hand.

“What?”

“Why are you leaving?”

Jake looks at her, his Adam's apple bobbing up and down as he swallows. Her heart broke when he told her, “There’s nothing left for me here.”

[briar--rising]

Rosh Hashanah is next week. It's always been my favorite holiday, and every year I prepare for it and look forward to it. But this year I've been dreading it, and until this past week I couldn't figure out why.

I haven't been to synagogue much in the past year. I've gone a handful of times, but much less than any other year since graduating college. And I thought of going, my therapist tried to encourage me to go because she knows it often makes me feel better, but there was just this inner resistance that I couldn't figure out and wasn't ready to look at closely enough to decipher anyway. And then as the High Holy Days got closer and closer I started to notice that I was really dreading them, which is not how I usually feel. And so I brought it up in therapy on Tuesday, and came to some really important realizations.

I've been doing a lot of very serious grief work and trauma work this fall. My most serious trauma anniversaries are almost all in the fall, and it's a season of great grief and usually highly elevated symptoms for me. My first serious psychotic break was in the fall, four of my five hospitalizations have been in the fall, etc. Until this year I spent every autumn of the past decade pretty severely psychotic. I could not face the trauma and grief that this time of year brings up for me, I could not process those feelings and memories without losing my mind in defense so that I wouldn't have to truly experience them. I've always known this, and for a few years have tried very hard to truly experience my grief and not retreat into psychosis, but I never managed it until this year.

This autumn has been different. I've still struggled with psychosis much more than in the summer, I still have to fight it most days. But I'm winning most of those fights. And I'm grieving. I'm mourning, I'm crying, I'm sitting with my feelings for as long as I can bear and then distracting myself from them when they get too much instead of retreating into symptoms most of the time. I'm genuinely experiencing the thoughts and feelings I need to be experiencing. I'm reading about death, about grief, about loss, I'm talking about these things in therapy. It's often incredibly painful, though sometimes it is simply a peaceful kind of sorrow. I'm getting in touch with a lot of the feelings I've found so difficult to face from some of the hardest times of my life, and I'm experiencing some of them again.

And some of those feelings that I was really quite blindsided by and that I've been largely repressing for 15 years are incredibly complicated feelings about G-d. When I was 11 years old I was just like any other religious and traumatized kid: I prayed to G-d to fix it. I did that thing kids do, I tried to make bargains with Him. "Dear G-d, if I clean my room will You save my mommy? If I'm perfect, will You fix my family?" You know. Things like that.

I was desperate for anything, anyone to save me. I talk sometimes about the particular traumas of that year, about my brother's birth, about my mother's hospitalizations, about her suicide attempt. But I have no words to express the year as a whole, except to say that terrible thing after terrible thing after terrible thing happened, and throughout all of it I was neglected and left at sea. My mom was sick, my dad was trying to keep his head above water, no one was there for me. So I tried to turn to G-d. And when He wasn't there for me either, I felt incredibly abandoned and betrayed, both by Him but also because I was taking my feelings about my family neglecting me during severe trauma and putting them onto Him. It's hard for me to express the levels of hurt and rage I felt at G-d during that time period.

And then my memory cuts out. I remember approximately nothing from shortly after my twelfth birthday (in June) until November over a year later. I have a handful of memories of specific events that took place at school or at camp, but absolutely zero memories of my internal feelings or anything that ever took place at home during seventh grade. It's just. Gone. Always has been, probably always will be.

The next significant things I remember in terms of my relationship to G-d and my religion are all about Hebrew High School, which I loved (I got to start it early bc I was being bullied in normal Hebrew School), and preparing for my Bat Mitzvah, which I also loved. My memory goes from intense feelings of betrayal and abandonment and agony to instantaneously a relatively low conflict, positive relationship with G-d and Judaism (with Jewish-appropriate amounts of questioning of course and moments of anger, but no true rage and despair like I once felt). And I stayed in that space of Judaism-as-comfort-with-minimal-internal-conflict for the next 10+ years. I have no idea how that transition happened, but it certainly didn't occur because I slowly and naturally dealt with all of my complicated feelings and embraced religion after processing.

And then this year, well. I guess the processing came due. I'd like to be very very clear that being Jewish always has been and always will be incredibly important to me, and nothing about any of this changes that. I am struggling, though. I'm re-experiencing a lot of those childhood feelings of betrayal and abandonment and confusion and rage. And not being ready to face those feelings is why I've been subconsciously avoiding synagogue for the past year, and is why I've been dreading the holidays. At least now I'm aware of what's happening, so that's a step in the right direction. And in the long term this is a good and important step not only in my trauma recovery but in my relationship with Judaism and with G-d; I can't have as deep of a relationship as I want without this kind of struggle. To quote my therapist, "your relationship with Judaism is too important to you to be easy." Thankfully in Judaism struggling like this is not only allowed but expected. But it is a struggle, right now. A painful one.

I leave you all with a song I've been listening to on repeat that is helping me confront and think about a lot of these feelings:

[fingersinmyhair]

detective/cop reader? Hot on the trail of carvers secret identity. There's only two people in town that has motive, and the time to be John Carver. And reader has the list narrowed down to Eric and his best friend. Hearing that, Eric offers to come over to "answer any questions" the reader might have. Just to "clear his name" ;333€ and obviously reader doesn't tell anyone, he's coming over

It had been months since the last kill, but you were finally hot on the trail of the killer. Or, at least, you'd narrowed it down to two possible suspects, both the only people in town with motive, time, resources, and personality type to fit the crime.

Ironically, they were best friends, so perhaps you were wrong and it was both of them. Or neither. Once you'd narrowed it down, you called your boss from the small side office you had at the Sheriff's department, temporary as you investigated, and informed him of who you'd narrowed it down to.

He was not pleased that you were calling with non-news, so you hung up and gathered your things, rushing out of the room and almost running down the Sheriff in the process. He was holding a cup of coffee for himself, one for you. He gave you a sheepish smile.

"Listen- I'll be honest, I just overheard your phone call while I was waiting and-"

"This conversation is finished."

"No! Wait- I- I wanted to clear my name, if that's possible. I have proof that it wasn't me. I'll bring all of the evidence I've collected on the case-" Sheriff Newlon explained, holding out the coffee for you, but you cut him off.

"You've kept details of the case hidden from me?"

"You don't exactly let me talk to you. At all." He defended himself. You eyed him and took the coffee, sighing.

"Alright, just leave it all-"

"I was thinking I could make you dinner, we could pour over the evidence together, I could make my case, then you could kick me to the curb," he offered, having an entire plan set out for the two of you.

You stared at him. You couldn't be caught fraternizing with someone you had just named one of the lead suspects of the most violent case the town had seen in decades. You weighed your options and eyed him carefully, nodding.

"Fine. Come over at 5, be gone by 7:30, and I'm not cleaning up your mess."

"Oh, I wouldn't dream of it, Detective," he gave you a glowing grin, toothy and confident.

꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒷꒦

At exactly 5:05 p.m., Sheriff Eric Newlon was on your doorstep with a brown paper bag of ingredients. When he knocked, you let him in, still wearing your work attire, but he was dressed down. Or dressed up.

"If I wasn't a smarter person, I'd think you thought this was a date," you warned softly, smiling at the man. He shrugged.

"Why? Because I wore a button-up, brought steak and wine, and hope you get to know me better? Shame on you, I'm trying to clear my name here."

You couldn't help but smile at the man.

"You brought steak and wine?"

"I'm buttering you up, what else would I have brought?" He stepped up to the kitchen counter and put the bag down, pulling everything out. He packed potatoes, garlic, asparagus, steaks, a sweet, decadent red wine.

"I won't be bribed, Sheriff. This is a civil discussion over dinner," you said firmly, sitting at the island in the kitchen, watching him work from behind. He asked where the pans were and you pointed.

"Thank you, Detective," he hummed, looking around, "You have a beautiful home. It's a shame you never get to be in it because of work."

"Thank you. Maybe once I reveal that you're the killer, I'll get a promotion and can stay home in Plymouth for a while," you teased warmly, watching him turn and eye you with caution and something else in the look. Something warm.

"Maybe. Maybe you'll find that I'm good company," he countered.

You smirked at him, watching him in silence before getting down from your chair and retrieving two wine glasses from the cabinet.

You let him make dinner in peace, asking him if he needed any help, but he didn't want any. By the time he was done, your house smelled delicious and you were both a glass and a half in, which was a complete accident. You'd gotten to talking about your lives as he cooked, which is what he'd planned.

He hadn't planned on getting tipsy. Hadn't planned on looking at you over the meal like he'd rather be eating you.

Much to your lack of knowledge, he probably would rather.

You didn't expect the look to stir something inside of you.

The steak was the best steak you'd ever had, succulent and tender, with plenty of garlic and butter. He'd paired the steaks with homemade mashed potatoes and garlic butter-roasted asparagus. And of course, more wine.

By the end of dinner, you were pleasantly full and on your fourth glass, having pulled a chilled bottle of wine out of your fridge to continue the evening in the living room.

"Come. Bring this "evidence" you claim you have," you ordered loosely, pointing at his messenger bag draped over his table chair. He grabbed it on command and followed you to the living room, wine in one hand, forged innocence in another. He was drunk in more than one way, so close to slipping out of your sights as a killer that it felt heady.

He laid out all of the papers he could on your coffee table, handing you a written, organized time sheet of when he was on the clock, times he'd been seen on camera during kills, even helping clear his best friend's name in the process.

You were drunk, but you weren't stupid, "Can I keep these? Just until tomorrow, so I can look them over with a clear mind?"

He nodded, amenable to the idea.

"Thank you, Detective, thank you. For considering my innocence."

"Don't thank me yet, but... You seem to be fine. No need to tie up any loose ends with loved ones, I mean," you joked, eyeing your glass and downing the half-glass of wine.

There was something warm coming to a head in your gut, becoming more and more obvious to you the longer his eyes lingered on you. You caught him staring at where your lips met the glass, caressing it, coaxing him and the wine closer. It was intoxicating, the attention with the alcohol.

"I uh. I thank you for that, then, Detective," Sheriff Newlon cleared his throat and straightened his back, finishing his glass.

"Of course, Sheriff. You've proven your innocence for now, and that's good enough for me," you explained slowly, only just realizing how drunk you were. He smiled at you, a lazy, warm thing directed at you and only you.

"Please, call me Eric, Detective," he said warmly, something close to sultry slipping into his voice.

"Only if you keep calling me Detective like you do, Eric," you said back, with just as much warmth, just as much want.

He leaned in close to you, eyeing your mouth, scooting closer on the couch at the same time as you did the same thing, "Oh, I can promise that, Detective."

"Fuck," you muttered, leaning in, feeling his hand snake up your throat and jaw, pushing into your hair slightly. You bared your neck, leaning into the touch.

His watch went off, alerting you both that it was 7:30 p.m. and it was time for him to leave.

He pulled your head back by your hair gently, kissing up your throat, speaking softly between kisses, "I should call a cab."

"Crash on the couch," you mumbled, head swimming with wine and lust and a need for something more, starved for touch, "Or the bed. Or the floor."

You were slurring your words slightly, snaking a hand up the back of his neck and into his hair, tugging.

"I don't care, but let's not pretend you weren't always going to stay te night," you said boldly, pulling him up by his hair into a kiss. He moaned into your mouth, smirking against you and nodding into the kiss.

"Deal, no more pretending."

[corona-journal]

1000 days of covid.... a reflection... what do you remember?

If I asked many of the memory of covid, it would be toilet paper shortages, the media call to treat nurses and doctors as heroes, lockdowns and social isolation. But there's more, though....

The picture above is of a near bare row of supermarket shelves, with only a few rolls of toilet paper.

My own memories, in general terms, would be:

The curious spread of this flu variant through China and its neighbouring countries. (Via media reports. Plus its rapid rise up the priority reading list for the broadcast reader/ reporter/ news team)

The slow response of most governments to the emerging cases (easy with hindsight)

The tourist ship Ruby Princess docking with (eventually a total of) 22 cases on board, docking in Sydney. No quarantine controls enforced effectively at that point in time. (And Covid had been a thing well reported)

The toilet paper shortages, followed by shortages of pasta, rice, disinfectant and other staple foods from shelves. Never seen so many bare shelves before, except in news reports where people cleaned out stores in the face of cyclones or snow storms.

The growing weirdness of still going to work when others were getting government pay to stay at home. Apart from the driver, there'd be 2 other people on the bus in.

Add in the loneliness and the ghost town feeling of walking through an empty city. Except for the essential food services, so kids could still get you your order of coffee and mcbreakfast.... odd contrast, you'd agree.

Oh, the anger and entitlement of the covid deniers and anti-maskers.

My father in law complained about mask wearing on a flight down from Queensland to visit us. While my wife, a nurse, is donning full personal protective equipment (PPE) to help with patients. He's not entitled, just an oblivious, selfish idiot.

A bit of resentment at those who got the payments to not work, while I was an essential worker, in the finance sector had to work through. Discussing insurance with customers. All of them wanting discounts for (multitude of self justified reasons). That was tiring...

On the 'others staying home' a lot of people were making bread, trying new hobbies, going back to old hobbies, riding bikes to get fit... that only seemed to last 2 months, then it was easier to watch digitally streamed shows...

Oh, the growing gap between those who could afford the digital upgrade to work and/or study from home. And those that couldn't... that gap is bigger, and will show up in a decade or so...

Travel? Yeah, we'd travel from the couch to the kitchen table, work, then we'd travel to the letterbox and then to the couch again. On weekends, some of us would travel to the shed, to mow the lawns as part of the outside world travel.

Then the acceptance, as we waited for the vaccine to be made. Too late for too many in China, Italy, Spain, the United Kingdom....

The USA being the most vocal of the anti-maskers and covid deniers. Because of Trump and his idiot approach to the crisis and his vanity.

A few covid conspiracy people I have spoken to, and seen the marches. I don't have time for dealing with these kind of people. Got used to being able to distance myself pretty quickly.

Overall though, I've become a bit more self directed towards entertaining myself (books and going back to the scale hobby of modelling) and fed up with a big insurance company making lots of profit while increasing the consumers insurance bill by about 20% average per year...

And remote studying has become a lonely grind. I am succeeding in my course so far.

Overall, post vaccine roll-out, we've adapted.

It's gone from being "the Chinese flu" (a pejorative term) to the "spicy cough".

So far, I have remained covid free.

And I have science, medicine and society to thank for that.

23 December 2022.

1000 days of covid.

@bundibird @scrapironflotilla thanks for just engaging with this little effort (it will continue)

@tafkarfanfic @bouncinghedgehog your posts helped with hope and morale when things were tough.

I'd invite you to reblog and share your memories, no matter where in the world you are.

[starfall-spirit]

The Little Prima Donna

For @shallyne

Read on Ao3

One shot inspired by the art above of Feyre and her future daughter. Artist: rosebuds.arts on Instagram Commissioner: Shallyne

AN: This is a spot the easter egg (movie quote) fic. My only hint is to think about the art pose if you can't pick it up from the lines alone. Feyre's Court Discord is not allowed to spoil it.

Also, while my next-gen daughter is normally named Roxanna, this is a gift fic, so I will be using Shallyne's preferred name for her, Nemesis.

Reach out in the comments, reblogs, or my asks if you recognize the art pose or the movie I quote. Fic starts below the cut. ☺

It had been weeks since the skies of Velaris had been so sunny and clear. Summer storms had been constant this year and if rain wasn't pouring down then it was disgustingly humid outside. But just this morning the cloud coverage had finally broken, the sky opening to a beautiful blue as the sun's rays danced over the water and land that made their city. The moment Nyx and Nemesis had dressed themselves and cleaned their breakfast plates they had bolted from the table to play on the open front lawn. Feyre and Rhys had followed them out a moment later, Rhys with leisure reading for once and Feyre with her travel paints and a canvas.

She hadn't updated their family portrait since Nemesis was barely old enough to crawl. Here they were, already eight and five, tussling like a couple of wild animals half the time. What happened to the tenderness Nyx showed his infant sister once upon a time, Feyre didn't know. "Careful, running," she called setting her outdoor easel where she wanted it. Though the ground was mostly dry, her children were quite talented at finding whatever mud remained, taking a few nasty falls and ruining their clothes. Some mudstains of the past had been too severe for laundry soap or magic to get out. Those became their painting outfits on the days they joined Feyre in her studio. Rhys mumbled something from the chair beside her, a smirk on his lips even with his nose in his book. "What?"

"Eight years, Feyre. Clothes are replaceable and fae children are next to invincible."

He was assuming her reaction was still about some deep-rooted instincts about human weakness and poverty. Not so long ago he may have been right. And she still had moments she had to remind herself she could eat her fill or spend money more freely. But not this time. This time was the simple matter of their second child taking after Rhys and being a little prima donna. "You deal with the diva when Nyx kicks up mud on her dress then. She refused to let me pick out old play clothes this morning."

"It's her birthday. You like looking nice on your birthday, don't you?" Unfolding his glasses, he pointedly turned back to his book, long legs stretching out in front of him. She let her gaze linger on certain features on the way back up. The scrawl of ink marking their death bargain, the strong muscles there leading up the rest of his body, the last of his tattoos just peeking past his unbuttoned collar. Every inch of him had been well explored after a near decade together, and yet Feyre still never tired of the sight. "You're checking me out. Again."

"Seeing as you're still the most beautiful male I've ever met, it's a privilege I'll continue utilizing as your mate."

He hummed. "Even with my old man readers?"

"Especially with your old man readers." She leaned over to kiss him before turning her attention to her pallet so she could begin her underpainting.

He paused his reading for a moment, closing the book over his hand to mark his place. "Do you think they'll find this one day? A mate they'll truly love?" She furrowed her brow. They'd touched upon this discussion in ways, casually noting that both their children were bound to break hearts, but they hadn't gone to the depth of a healthy mating bond. Or an unhealthy one for that matter. "You and I have the best kind of bond. If we set that expectation... I don't want to see my parents' fate for anyone, especially not my children."

She took his hand. "Rhys, you're asking a pretty big question, regarding a pair of younglings." The look he gave her begged her to humor him. She sighed. "I don't know if they'll find a bond and be happy, or if they'll struggle, or if they'll be so hopelessly in love with someone else they never find their mate. What I do now is that major conflict is behind us now and we have all the time in the world to let them find out."

"I just—"

A shrill scream had them both standing, only to find Nemesis flying toward them. "Hey, hey, hey. What's going on?"

Just as Feyre had predicted this morning, her daughter's pink birthday dress was splattered with mud and grass from the hem up to half of the skirt, her carefully pinned hair and bow askew. "Mother, he pulled my hair and kicked mud up on me!"

"Well, she started it!" Nyx huffed, always quick to defend himself, whether he was in the right or wrong.

Nose scrunched and hands on her hips, Nemesis raised her chin, her posture nearly perfect. "Ladies do not start fights, but they can finish them," she said haughtily.

Rhys' hand flew up to his mouth, muffling a laugh no doubt. Don't you dare encourage that, Rhysand.

Me? Never, darling.

Both of you need to play kindly," he admonished. "Nyx, it's your job to set an example for your sister." A wave of his free hand and the fresh mud was gone, the birthday dress a pristine pink once again. "How's that, little star?"

"Better. Thank you, Daddy." Nyx crossed his arms, glaring daggers at his sister as she flounced over to Feyre. "Will you fix my hair again? Please?"

Feyre shook her head, eyeing the lopsided half-part and the pathetic bow attached. "Turn around." Retying the small ponytail and sliding the bow in place, Feyre leaned forward to kiss her daughter's cheek. "There you are, my love. Now, be nice to your brother. Nyx, you be nice too. I'm sure whatever happened was an accident. Both of you try to have fun with each other until your cousin comes over." They exchanged a look, and like every other disagreement, this one melted away, right back into a fresh game of tag. "That was your diva."

Rhys chuckled. "Of course, Feyre darling."

For a long while they sat in a content silence, Rhys reading, Feyre painting. "I don't think there’s anything to fear. I think we've both spent so long seeing the worst of the world the doubt always comes first. That may always be the case. But for them, I want to believe there's something—someone perfect for them and what they need—waiting to be found. Isn't that all we can do?"

"Someone waiting," he repeated. "I think you just might be onto something there."

~~~~~

Taglist:

@goddess-aelin // @acotar-fanns // @reverie-tales // @acourtofwips // @jealousveronya // @the-lost-changeling // @darling-archeron // @faeriequeensuriel // @gwynkyrie // @pandavelaris // @corcracrow // @s-uppertime // @elentiyawhitethorn

[meditating-dog-lover]

Health Update

I'm surprised by how glowing and clear my skin is. The only difference I made was taking the DIM Detox supplement and switching to reverse osmosis water. I also took some antibiotics which helped get rid of some infections. But those are gone - neck and ears completely healed. I do not have any rashes on my face and neck like I did weeks/months ago. My hands are clear and smooth with some cuts and some infection that's in the process of healing. They are itchy and I do rub them under hot water when I wash my hands, but they're also clear and smooth (feels like how they felt after I got my steroid shot and pills).

I would have never thought that excess estrogen is responsible for my eczema. I feel much much better now and I'm so happy. I thought it was a gut issue, but I guess not (not that gut health isn't important, but it wasn't the cause of my skin inflammation).

I am also slim and not bloated. I know DIM helps women lose weight, but I don't believe I have much at all to lose. Digestive enzymes help a lot with bloating.

I would imagine that some forms of birth control or even a hysterectomy would get rid of my eczema. But those are extreme (mostly hysterectomy), and I don't want to do any of those. My obgyn was more helpful with helping me clear my skin than my dermatologists. I definitely knew it was hormonal.

I've been taking the DIM for 2.5 weeks and I'll see how my skin improves with time. It's getting cooler now so I'm worried that the cold and dry weather might make my skin worse. I hope this doesn't happen.

I really like the reverse osmosis water. I think it does help health-wise. Getting organic food helps too, but I don't think it's possible to eat 100% organic. Nor is it possible to use 100% "clean products". I feel like naturally supporting key detoxing organs help. In this case it would be the liver because it plays a role in metabolizing and getting rid of excess estrogen (DIM helps it do that). The supplement is great, but of course I want to check with my doctor to see if it safe to take longterm. Unfortunately it's also pretty expensive.

I'm going to therapy tomorrow to discuss my diagnosis. I'm autistic and was diagnosed at a late age. And I want to get the support I was supposed to get decades ago.

I got a coffee today and some vegan cheese puffs. When it comes to "less than healthy stuff", I prefer having a small portion on the side than a whole treat. I had a mocha and brownie last week on Thursday and Friday. I think that's fine, but I would prefer to have a small treat. I did not finish my coffee and had a few sips because I just wasn't craving it. But overall my diet is pretty health and rich in fiber, protein, fats, vitamins, and minerals. I would say I eat 80-20 at this point. Not 100-0. I would not necessarily say I eat very low sugar either. I think my diet is an improvement because I used to order milkshakes and McDonald's years ago during COVID. I recently used to order pizza and sandwiches often, which are rich in processed white bread which is loaded with sugar, as well as inflammatory oils and I'm sure the sauces had hidden sugars. I now eat out less and eat less sugar, just not 0% sugar. And I'm still fine.

Today I remembered the days when Facebook, Myspace, Formspring, and Twitter were popular when I was in school and why I didn't have a lot of friends and people messaging and interacting with me. I always had less than 200 Facebook friends. I now realize it's because I'm autistic. Of course I never deserved social exclusion. but it's just something I remembered and considered.

I will heal mentally and get the support I need as an autistic woman.

In the past there were times where my blood sugar was great. I think what helps with it is 2 things, maybe even 3. (1) being at a healthy weight, (2) minimizing stress (fasting raised my blood sugar), and (3) physical activity (walking and light body circuits). I used to follow Rachael Attard's programs and her workouts were designed that way. I remember doing her programs and was at a healthy weight and my blood sugar levels were great. Though I was depressed back then and I was eating a lot of sugar and junk. I don't want to eat a lot of junk and don't want to be depressed and stressed. I'm at a healthy weight now and am putting less stress on my body because I'm not fasting everyday anymore. However I can go back to walking (I used to walk for an hour back then) and doing some light body circuits. I want to avoid anything heavy and challenging like HIIT or lifting because I tend to overeat when I do those.

I have experienced more physical stress from undereating than from overexercising in the past. For example, calorie restriction or fasting will cause more stress and inflammation than doing workouts focused on weighs and HIIT. I feel like I can continue with the anti-inflammatory diet and cycle fasting and definitely walk and do some sweaty pilates. I know this will help with my metabolic health, which is already great (blood pressure, sugar, cholesterol, etc...). But exercise will help even more with my sugar profile.

[bloodyknucklesforme]

Room for More | Soap x Nina

I was randomly inspired so have a really sweet/sorta sad fic

CW: pregnancy, talk about miscarriages

"Can I bum one?" Johnny asked, walking up to Gaz. They'd gotten back to base a couple hours prior. He'd drive back home tomorrow morning.

"Thought you quit?" Gaz still handed him a cigarette and his lighter.

"I did. Don't tell Nina?" Johnny asked, ashamed. Gaz drew an x over his heart. "She wants to keep trying for a baby. I do too but she's had two miscarriages now."

"Nothing you can do to prevent them?" Kyle was the only person he felt like he could talk to about this.

"No," he shook his head. "Decade and a half of malnutrition and no medical care will do that. I don't want to tell her no because she really wants it. I really want it. Maybe I talked it up too much. Wanting a big family."

"There are other options."

"I know. I'm not against it. She said after the first one that she wanted to give me something. I told her that I don't want anything from her. I don't need it. She's insistent."

"She is," Gaz nodded. "She's always been tough. You only have a couple months left before you're out."

"I think we'll hold off trying again till then. If she has another miscarriage I want to be there for her. I wasn't there for the first one and the second one was awful for us." He took a long drag to distract him from the memory. "Felt like it was my fault."

Gaz clapped his back and pulled him into a side hug.

"I don't think it's anyone's fault," He said. "Not either of yours at least."

Nina had decided to keep it a secret, even from herself. She forced herself to forget what the test had said. She told herself it was easier. She would be less upset when it didn't work out and if she didn't lose it would be a pleasant surprise.

She'd done a good job of forgetting.

Johnny was due back later tonight. His missions were taking longer. He'd been gone for over two months. She'd started her usual rituals of cleaning the house and making him shortbread biscuits. He'd pick up dinner on the way. They'd spend the next couple of days decompressing. The weather was getting warmer. She wanted to have a picnic outside.

She'd gotten everything done and took a shower to freshen up. She caught herself in the floor length mirror as she shrugged on her cardigan. Her stomach had a small bump to it. Almost unnoticeable to anyone except her. She stopped and cupped her hands around the bump.

"Hi, there." She spoke softly to her stomach. She'd never gotten this far. She walked up to the mirror and sat cross legged on the floor in front of it. "I'm...I'm sorry I've been ignoring you these past couple weeks. Truth is I'm afraid of you."

"Not really of you but I'm afraid you'll leave. I won't be upset with you if you do. I know it's not the best place to be. I'd like it if you stayed. I won't ignore you anymore. You can keep me company while your dad is away." She felt a little foolish talking to them. And..and if you make it all the way I promise to take care of you. You won't be cold or hungry. Your dad will love you. I'll keep you safe. He'll keep you safe."

"I don't know if you can hear me. You're probably not bigger than an apple or something. I always thought it was weird comparing you to fruit. It just seems so small. You're so small yet you're bigger than your siblings. They couldn't stay very long. I wanted them to. Like I said, I won't be mad at you if you can't. I know it's not your fault. If you can though, it'd be nice."

"Your dad doesn't know yet. He'll be home soon though. You can meet him. He's quite handsome even with his dumb haircut." She laughed. "He's also kind and he's an artist. If you wanted he'd probably paint a mural in your room. Another reason for you to stay. I hope you like the names we've talked about. Elsie Poppy for a girl. Poppy was my mum's name and I'd like to grow a row of them in the box outside your window. You'll have a whole garden to run around in and I'll plant whatever you want."

"I feel like I should stop talking to you. I think if you leave I won't try again. Your dad drew me a flower for the last two times. They're hanging up in the hallway and I think that more than three would look weird..." She wiped her cheek. "This time it'll be a poppy. Would you like that? I didn't get to ask last time. I don't want to guilt you into staying. I know it's not up to you. I love you. I hope you know that. I'll always love you. Your dad loves you even if he doesn't know about you yet. If you can't stay for me, try to stay for him. He's been through a lot. He'd really like to meet you. He has a nephew and I just know he'd be the best dad to you. He wouldn't yell at you or make you feel unwanted or small. He'd teach you how to play football and draw. He would.."

The floor creaked behind her. Nina spun around. Johnny was standing in the doorway. They had matching tears. She reached out her hand and beconed him closer.

"How long have you been here?" She asked, as they wiped each other's tears.

"I like the name Poppy," He smiled, pressing his forehead against hers. She took his hand and laid it across her stomach. He looked down and grinned. "I'm sorry I don't smell better. I'm your dad. I'd also like you stay. You're strong like your mum."

He pulled Nina into his lap and wrapped his arms around her waist, rubbing a hand over her stomach. His chin sat on her shoulder.

"She makes great biscuits and soups. She'll love taking you to the beach. She might not share her plushes but she'll make sure you have so many of your own." Nina laughed. "She might be English but no one's perfect. Except maybe you but that's because you'll be Scottish."

"She'll read to ya every night. And she'll write the most gorgeous poems about ya even if she won't let anyone read em. You'll have a cousin, a grandma, an aunt on my side. On yer mum's side you'll have Grandpa Price."

"He'll hate you for saying that."

"It's true though. Now let me finish." He kissed her cheek. "Uncle Kyle and Uncle Simon. Then there will be your Teehos."

"You're saying that wrong."

"How do you say it then?"

"There's no H. Tío."

"Since when did you speak Spanish?"

"I've been practicing. Rudy and I facetime every other week so I can practice. He says I'm very good."

"Your tío's Alejandro and Rudy. There will be so many people who love you." He rubbed one of Nina's arms. "Can't say it'll be more than us though. So if you can stay we'd love to have ya."

He moved his hand off her stomach to cup her face to turn her towards him.

"Whatever happens, I love you. If you don't want to try again that's okay with me. We can try other things but even if none of that works. I'll be happy just living my life with just you."

"I love you. I'd be happy too." She turned to hug him, wrapping her legs around his waist.

"You been to the doctor yet?" He asked, rubbing his hands up and down her back.

"I've been afraid," she admitted.

"We'll make an appointment tomorrow, yeah?" He kissed her forehead. "How far along do you think you are?"

"Maybe three months," she shrugged. "I wasn't keeping track like I should have."

They had to wait a week but they got the appointment. Everything looked well. Nina was starting on pre natal vitamins among other supplements. They made another appointment in another two weeks for the first ultrasound.

"What if something's wrong?" Nina squeezed his hand as they waited for the tech.

"We'll figure it out. I'm right here. It'll be okay," he kissed the back of her hand, his leg was bouncing up and down despite his attempts to hide his own fears. He held her hand tightly as the tech performed the exam.

"Everything looks good. Fetal development looks well. That's the heartbeat and oh.." He thought Nina might break his hand until the tech turned grinning. She turned the screen around for them to look at. "Listen to that."

"There's two heartbeats. Why would there be two?"Nina looked at Johnny.

"Twins..."

"Congratulations." She pointed towards the screen. "That's baby one and here's baby two. Fraternal twins."

Nina laughed as tears ran down her face.

"Twins? Really? Johnny... we're going to have twins?" He leaned down and kissed her.

"You made a compelling case. They must have been listening."

"Would you like me to print out photos.''

"Yes please!" The last time he saw her so happy was their wedding day just a year prior. She couldn't stop looking at the photos on the drive back.

"Can't believe I got ya pregnant twice," He laughed.

"Oh you owe me for this. Twins are much harder."

"I'm the one who has build two nurseries now. Do you think we get two baby boxes now?"

"I would hope so. We can't fit them in one." She laughed.

"We'll have to tell my mum soon."

"Price too." She looked at the photos again and laughed.

"What is it?"

"I'm really happy. Like really fucking happy."

Johnny reached across the console and squeezed her knee. All the memories from the past couple years with her played over in his head. All the hard times, the hospital stays, the sleepless nights, the panic attacks, the depressive episodes. All he ever wanted was for her to be happy.

"I love you, Nina. I'm happy too."

AN: Forgive any errors in regards to the ultrasound, I've never been pregnant lol.

tag list: @macravishedbymactavish

[hexiewrites]

I was gone in the summer so I missed this milestone but: I've officially been in the steddie fandom a year (plus, uh, three months), and wow, what a fucking amazing year it's been

(i do want to shout out to my spouse for BEGGING me to watch this show for multiple years until i finally caved when they were away last summer, and to whoever made a steddie fanvid on tiktok, and the algorithm gods who went 'this bitch likes gay shit' and served it to me, causing my total descent into absolutely madness)

in that time (since august of 2022, and actually almost all between aug 2022-april 2023), I've:

written 16 (!!!) fics

totalling 307,294 words (holy fuck)

my three most popular fics are, by no small margin:

same as it ever was (which was only my 3rd ever steddie fic) (and which is currently being podficc'd by the amazing @n0connections!)

carve your name into my chest (my magnum opus, the steddie hockey fic, which I am still to this day absolutely blown away by the reception to. it's baby brother prequel, clean ice cold hearts can't lose, is much less popular but one of my absolute faves. can be read as a standalone, if you're into that!)

&, there'll be a riot cause i know you (proving that you're all really just here for the smut ;))

I've had other podfics made (thank you, @amanita-fierce, for the amazing pod of when they raise the landing gear (will your heart stay here)

I've gone absolutely crazy with a @thefreakandthehair prompt and accidentally wrote a hallmark movie fic that's the second longest thing I've ever done (make this inn our own), which the incredible @staymagical BOUND INTO A BOOK for me (the craziest and coolest thing that's ever happened in my fandom life, I'm not even gonna lie!) (and then my amazing beta blue bound carve into a book, but they don't have tumblr so they don't get a fun tag, but I also cried very hard about that as well)

I've gotten more fanart than I could even hope to tag, but special shoutout to @oriarts for being the first and for never failing to make me lose my mind over the way you make my fuzzy brain images come to life, and also for letting me brain spaghetti at them literally all the time, many of my fics would not exist without ori (psst if you make fanart PLEASE tag me so i can see it and cry!!!)

and I've made more friends than I ever expected, and have felt so loved and supported by this whole community. I've been part of fandom for the better part of two decades now (yikes) and have never felt so welcome, and appreciated, and I have to thank all of you for that.

I'm so excited to be back, and I'm sorry I don't have a pithy way to end this post. <3

ps. no promises, but hopefully there will be some new stuff coming down the pipeline in the next few months. hope to see you there!

[riftdancing]

haunt·ed (adjective) 1. inhabited or frequented by ghosts. a haunted castle. 2. preoccupied, as with emotion, memory, or idea; obsessed: His haunted imagination gave him no peace.

Unfortunately for me, it's both. It's been over two decades since you passed, but I still see you in the mirror every morning. Your judgement echoes in my ears and your haunting white eye continues to scrutinize my every move. My technique. Never quick enough. Foot work is always sloppy. Missed a spot cleaning that revolver barrel…

Was it love or obsession? Did you really love me, or were you chasing the remaining desire for my late Mother? I see her when I look in the mirror too. In my own reflection. In my features. I was not woman enough to be the daughter she wanted. I was not loyal enough for my Father's pride. I was not obedient enough for my Brother's care.

They all share your grave now.

Sometimes I feel ill when I miss you.

I remember when Father gave me to you. Like an object or a toy he'd discarded, something he'd grown bored of after I didn't fulfill his expectations. After I filled him with disappointment. I don't blame him entirely. After all I betrayed all of them. Not just the family… but the entire crew too. Even when he gave me to you, you didn't want me and I wanted nothing to do with you. I was a burden, but you made me useful. While Father ensured I'd never see the inside of another cockpit you honed me into a fine weapon. At first I hated you for it, but you taught me discipline and over time I learned how to be a ghost, just like you. Your very own protégé...

...But you are gone, and I still feel your gaze from behind. I still feel you watching when I look over my shoulder. When I am with someone new. Heckling me about having a particular type. That I am still soft. Vulnerable. Weak. Womanly. A hound ready to obey. Maybe I am.

He says it too and in many ways, he reminds me of you. He is one of the few people on this star who has proven to be worthy of my subordinance. But unlike our troubled past, he doesn't force me to be something or someone I don't want to be.

He is the catalyst to my healing.

He has taught me my choices are my own.

From now on I will no longer be a slave to my past.

((There's a bit of context in bullet points under the cut for this if it interests you but it's really raw because she's got a very long and complicated story as I've been writing her since 2011.))

Some bullet points on Blink's early history:

Blink was born into a life of Sky Piracy.

Her Father was the Sky Pirate Captain of the Harbingers.

His First Mate was a man named Judas, who was known in more public circles as a ghost-like assassin.

Blink fell in love with a pirate in a rival crew and tried to secretly elope with them. Her Father found out, he saw it as a huge betrayal, and sent Judas to hunt her and the lad down.

Judas killed the guy in front of her, brought her back to her Father.

Her Father disowned her after arranging her marriage to Judas (something neither of them wanted)

Judas viewed her as a burden, and basically decided when life gives you lemons, you turn them into your protégé and train them like a soldier.

This brought the pair of them closer over time… and as they'd both been screwed by the Crew's bullshit hierarchy and politics they decided to do something about it together.

Judas wound up fighting Blink's Father for Captaincy, and won. While it was supposed to be a fight to the death, he let the man still walk away with his life.

He was a good Captain for a while, with Blink as his First Mate and under the two the Crew had a prosperous window.

But, unfortunately her brother thought he was entitled to inheriting the title of Captain and was furious about Judas killing his Father. So eventually he wound up fighting Judas and killed him-- in front of Blink, taking up the role as Captain (and he was terrible at it.)

Blink wound up going into hiding for six years after this. There was some more trauma laced in this I won't get into. But when she surfaced again she had enlisted with Garlemald to become one of their soldiers. Which is a whole other arc I won't get into tonight. But… that's some context to this story/post.

Fast forwarding past the Garlemald years... I will at least say that Blink eventually wound up fighting to get the Harbingers back and served as their Captain for a good while (The crew's choice). It was basically the crew's golden years with her in the lead. However, eventually she decided it wasn't the life for her, so she wound up retiring to do piloting work and that's how she fell in with Firelight Trading Co. To this day, the Harbingers still revere her as their Captain even though she's passed that title on to someone she trusted.

But yeah, ask me about those Garlean years sometime... those are a doozy. Like an Event Horizon inspired arc through Void Ark... :|

[fireangelsstuff]

An honest opinion here, I've been following this mess for a while, and with that I see some blogs saying about a final date, "Oh it'll end before the premiere of the movie Red One", and obviously he showed up with the hula hoop and the girl will certainly show up, and these same blogs start to offend people. Wouldn't it be easier to move on with life and if you (blogs) who know the date, stay silent, I don't understand why this need to think that you know everything all the time, this has already gone beyond the fact that Chris has been connected and a bad character for a long time, now there's this "need" for blogs to want to be right at all costs, and with that these blogs only embarrass themselves. I say the same for real blogs too, if you believe so much that he married a girl like that, good for you, you don't need to keep shoving that girl down our throats every time Chris shows up, one thing we already know is that she spends most of her time in PT and the podcast she participated in (even though she blatantly lied) was good to show us that! Just relax, this will be over soon, because whether it's real or not, there's no chance of this lasting long!

I'm more interested and making sure that they get to spend the next decade having to worry about what people think of them

Knowing that what they have done and what they have tried to clean up is not acceptable and they will continue to be held accountable for it

You want to promote a racist you're gonna get it pointed out every time you poke your f****** head out the f****** door

You think it's funny to f*** with people for several f****** years just because you can pay for it well you better be prepared to keep f****** paying for it because it's never f****** going away

Christopher said it best

Now they get to learn about the NeverEnding consequences of the f****** internet

And they will never get to bury this, ever

[somethingusefulfromflorida]

Something like 10 or 12 years ago, before I had a smartphone, before I even had a flip phone capable of taking photos, I went on a church youth group trip to Disney World, and had the bright idea to take along a disposable camera I got at CVS to record some choice memories.

I never got it developed, I just put it in a drawer and forgot about it. Years went by, the drawer was emptied, its contents moved around, a lot of stuff got thrown away, so I thought for sure the camera was gone for good, but just the other day I did a deep clean of my bedroom amd found it at the bottom of an old box of crap!

I hope the film is still viable! I wonder if there are any CVSs near me that still have photo centers. If not, maybe I can send it somewhere.

The thing is, during that Disney trip, one of my friends showed me how to turn the camera into a flashbang. If you held the flash charger button until the electric hum stopped, and then whacked the camera hard against your other palm, the flash would go off without taking a picture. At least, I hope it didn't take pictures, because we must have done it a dozen times before one of our chaperones told us to stop. I fear that I may have double exposed or blown out a bunch of pictures and the film may be completely useless now. Only time and money will tell. If it's ruined, c'est la vie, I'll be in the same boat I've been in for the last decade when I thought it had been thrown away, so I won't feel too bad about it.

They still sell disposable cameras, so it stands to reason that there still exists a way to develop them. I'll keep you all posted.

[buffkitties]

Umm...

I feel like there are so many ways that cannibalism is portrayed wrong, especially in popular media.

Quite a lot of pieces out there have a harmful portrayal of what cannibalism truly looks like, and so many of them are just borderline racism.

It's understandable that I'm not a reliable source of information, of course... You shouldn't just trust a person online on something they say in the first place without proper research, but... Allow me to explain what I've seen.

A lot of games, movies, shows, etc. Especially based on survival in the wilderness present us with characters that are tribesmen, or a group of people living in the wild otherwise. They are represented as animal-like, with red skin, and inherently aggressive.

Now, this is especially troubling if you take a look at how the word "cannibalism" was coined in the first place... I'm sure you've already heard of the man who wanted to take things for himself because you are a bunch of intelligent individuals! It is no man other than the one who has also claimed to discover america and took away plentiful lands from those who rightfully deserve them!

Um... If I'm right, it was named after a specific Indian tribe for its "known" practice of cannibalism... the Carib.

Now, I'm nobody to actually say what has and hasn't actually happened, but I'm not sure if it's wise to trust a man who's already proven to be a horrible person... More than that, I would prefer if anybody interested chose more accurate sources...

Anyway... Let me get to the point.

Cannibalism in itself is no more harmful than if we prepared and consumed other meat. If you were to clean it off any unpleasantries and it was healthy, you would suffer no consequences.

I think it's widely misinformed that you would die or fall sick immediately. While that is not necessarily the case, it does come with its risks, just like anything else. Additionally, a prion disease can only develop if you consume the brain of another human and if it was already in a stage of disease.

It's illegal in most cases and usually not done without a reason, with most people either being forced to do it in some way or holding some sort of mental instability.

Don't get me wrong... It's not a mental illness that causes it, but potential disorders bring out the urge that a person already had and take it to its extremes, making it irresistible in a lot of cases. Of course, if you normally wouldn't do it, then something as petty as a mental illness couldn't suddenly push you toward it.

It's a thing you would have to agree with since it has been deeply engraved in our personal beliefs throughout decades to be against such acts. If you act upon it, that would mean you had to break through the strength of those morals or never had them in the first place.

I'm not shaming anyone, by the way. It's just the truth.

Just for the sake of this topic, intrusive thoughts are very different from a want—many people suffer from uncomfortable thoughts that convince them they want something, but that's just paranoia... If you worry about it, that's most likely not the case.

It's usually shown in a very animalistic way, which would express someone's instability and the fact that they had "gone against what we, as people, believe."

That's just harmful and a really bad way to show it. It also links to the topic of racism I already mentioned since these two are not far from each other.

I feel like a lot of media creators do not care to look into this topic when making making and designing things, so I would kindly ask of anyone who actually sees this, and has an intention of writing, or using cannibalism in their media, to inform themself because these are very important things.

Please consider it.

[davidkendall]

I've ranted about this elsewhere, but I wanted to share the rant here, too.

Pictured is a Getzen trumpet. My Getzen trumpet, from my high school and college trumpet-playing days (along with all the mutes that went with it). To be fair, I haven't played it in decades. And, to be fair, I had left it in what I thought was the relative safety of my ex's attic. I have bins of stuff of hers; she had some stuff of mine. On Saturday, we finally orchestrated a long-sought-after (by me) exchange of stuff. While she had mentioned that there had been a leak in the roof several years back, she did not mention that the trumpet case had been soaked, and that she had never done anything - like, anything - to dry it out. So, my trumpet has been sitting in a soggy case for, literally, years. I mean, the case was still very heavy from water just sitting in it. As you can see, it did not hold up well to that.

As I said, I haven't played in years. But, that trumpet does have a soft spot in my heart. My dad bought it for me, back in the day, when it became apparent that I was a more than decent high-school trumpet player. Everyone else was getting a Bach; I got a silver Getzen; not only was it unique, but it was the same kind Doc Severinsen of the Tonight Show played. And when I showed up in school with it, it got a lot of "oooooos" and "ahhhs". (I've done some research over the weekend; it was (and is) a very good horn and I'm sure my dad spent a pretty penny on it, back in the day.)

But what really bugs me is that it just sat, in a wet case, for years. No care or consideration for it, at all. I mean, it's clear that it was never even opened after it got wet; it just sat in a soggy case. And in the meantime, I stored all of her stuff safely, in secure, water-proof bins, and I delivered those bins of pristine condition. Meanwhile, I get this. (There was another bin of computer programs and paperwork, also destroyed by water. All trashed now.)

Fortunately, a local music store specializes in instrument clean-up and restoration. I took the trumpet there today and the young woman in charge of fixing instruments assured me the horn was salvageable. It'll take some work, and about $350, but it's worth it to me. First of all, my dad got this for me, so there's a sentimental value to it. And, once I'm gone, someone can get something for the trumpet, because, in good shape, it's worth a lot more than $350.

But I'll never understand why people can't take care of things entrusted to them.