#and...if I'm going to be treated like a country bumpkin for it then I'm going to damn well make sure that it's remembered

[margridarnauds]

Besides the excellent points made above re: American culture, some specific things I remember about small town Illinois culture, from my childhood growing up in the area, in the spirit of showing off some of the regional diversity that can exist (and to remind people that the rural midwest...has a culture, since...it's the culture I grew up with. And despite my complex relationship with it, it's mine, I claim it. American culture isn't non-existant, it's just dominant, but also, there are nuances to what that looks like, and I often feel like people pass over rural communities in general):

Labor Day. Labor Day is a bigger deal in the rural midwest than in, say, the east coast. Cake walks, pony rides, parade floats that the the entire town works together on.

Long recreational car rides with family or friends. There isn't much else to do, so this is a way to kill time. My family would often go on car rides on Sunday to no specific location, just to see where we ended up.

Folk songs, some of which are more widespread in the mainstream USA than others, many of which not originating with white populations, despite the overwhelmingly white makeup of the rural midwest. Those songs that you learned as a kid that Everyone Knows? Congratulations, those are American folk songs.

In southern Illinois, there's a strong southern influence, including southern sayings, a slight southern drawl, and foods more frequently associated with the south.

Hunting Season as a coming of age, especially for the boys. The first buck is a major lifetime event.

In general, a bigger focus on "smaller" holidays that don't get as much attention in bigger cities in the States -- Memorial Day, for example.

Casimir Pulaski Day™️

Cubs VS Cardinals and the EXTREME loyalties that that gets.

Fuck Chicago (the one thing all the small towns can band together to agree on)

Going to Church on Christmas Eve -- in general, the small town Midwest is highly Christian and relatively devout (it will be Known if you don't regularly attend church and is a minor scandal), but, regardless, Christmas Eve services are a big deal. I remember spending many a Christmas Eve that I spent on the couch watching Christmas movies, which I interrupted to go to service with my family.

Re: the reply above, Lion's Club Pancake Breakfasts in the spring. One of the community highlights of the year. (And, again, not to say this is UNIQUE to small town Midwest, but it is to say that it was more important there, because it was an event the whole community could go to. That isn't as important in a bigger town.)

Camo prom dresses. (Camo in general in clothing.)

Speaking with neighbors, chatting with cashiers at the store, etc. When I moved to a bigger area, I actually had a bit of a culture shock because the neighbors didn't socialize with us, whereas in small town culture, it's the first thing people do when someone new moves in.

Private fireworks are generally (note "generally") not as big on the Fourth of July (another American cultural institution) as they are in larger cities, since...there are a lot of farms miles apart from one another, so, it's more common in my experience to go to the largest nearby city to a mall or other large area for people to gather.

'White Americans don't have any culture, they're just [normal/boring/generic/empty]. 'Culture' is when you're quaint and exotic and have interesting ethnic foods and holidays." is such a grating bit of nonsense to have somehow become progressive commonsense in a lot of places.

[thezombieprostitute]

Garbage Men AU - Drabble

A/N: entirely written on my phone.

Warnings: alcohol consumption

+++++++++

She spotted him as soon as he walked in. She made sure to adjust so that he saw only the best angles and curves in a too tight, skimpy dress. He looked like either a country bumpkin or, at most, the blue collar type who should be eager to spend time with a classy lady like her.

He walks up to the bar and orders a shot of whiskey before looking at her, “and what’ll you have, Sweetheart?” Her smile grows, a southern accent, she had him figured out correctly. And he was devastatingly handsome.

“Mimosa,” she says, running a hand over his. She was ready to have a great night.

He orders you a drink before turning back

“I'm Hal,” he says.

“Nice to meet you, Hal,” she purrs. What brings you to the city?”

“Ah,” he ducks his head, blushing adorably. “My accent is a dead giveaway ain't it?”

“I think it's cute,” she says. She adjusts her seating to give him a better look at her cleavage. “Really adds to your charm.”

“Well, if’n you don't mind,” she swears his accent is getting thicker, “can this southern boy treat you tonight?”

“I'd love that.”

The next couple of hours are a blur of alcohol, laughing at his bad jokes, small touches, pretending not to notice his eyes looking at precisely where she wants him to look. She's feeling lucky for such an easy target so she indulges in more drinks than she normally would. He gets them some food to try to help her from getting too drunk. She almost feels sorry for Southern Boy, he's a nice guy. But a target is still a target.

The drinks do start to get to her and she leaves to go to the bathroom.

“You ain't leavin’, right, Sweetheart?” His puppy dog eyes are absolutely adorable. She gives him a few small kisses before promising to return.

In the bathroom she does contemplate leaving the back way but she's gonna push her luck. Southern Boy has a hefty wallet.

She returns to the bar but he's gone. She thinks that maybe he's also gone to the bathroom so she sits and waits. And waits. After about 30 minutes the bartender comes by and hands her the bill. She stammers, trying to say it's not hers. He's not having it and threatens to call the police if she doesn't pay up.

She's finally realizes, she's been played. Resigning herself to her fate she opens her purse only to find her wallet isn't there.

++++

Hal texted Curtis, “honeypot complete.” It's a shame he had to leave her, she was sexy, but she also hurt Teach. The fact that Curtis asked for a Honey Pot mission meant that the bitch had made Teach cry. And no one hurts Teach and gets away with it.

[mishkakagehishka]

>×> do you have any tips on how to write Mika's accent ? I don't want to write him just considering letting my Danganronpa DnD char have the same accent as treat

I spent 20min in my archive bc i actually remember already talking ab this once (or rather, Mika dialogue as a whole)!

I think my advice remains more or less the same. When listening to his voice lines, you can notice that he tends to slur his words together and his accent is p thick (altho, and idk if i'm just insane, but i could swear it was thicker in !era like i'm so serious). I'd add that these days, I make him speak like a southerner, but I tend to split between southern usamerican and cockney - both fit. He speaks in the "country bumpkin" and "funny, friendly, but stupid" stereotyped accent, so, as a fan of the art of localisation, i always try to translate or depict his speech in whatever manner would bring about the same associations to the reader. To a UK local that'd probably be cockney, to a US local, southern usamerican.

But all in all, stick to one of those two, learn vocabulary used in those dialects (for example, "y'all" as a second person plural pronoun or "ain't" for negation, "reckon", "fixin' to", words like that if you're going for southern usamerican). Use apostrophes smartly, though, i'll repeat that the key is to read the lines out loud and decide what sounds right. As a rule, i only drop the -t in "that" when followed by a word beginning with a consonant because it "rolls easier" - and gives that effect of words being slurred together. "That ain't none of my business" is better because otherwise you'd have an awkward flow between the two ah- sounds, but "tha's none of my business" is better because otherwise you'd have a bit of a stop with the "ts" sound.

Or something to that effect. Read your lines out loud, try to speak with as little effort spent on moving your mouth as possible, and then try to express that in writing by dropping letters and blending words where needed. Trust your gut on what sounds natural. If it feels like you have to force it, it should probably be changed.

[dootznbootz]

My turn now... hehe.

Favorite animal? What about a favorite flower? This is very random, but how was your day? I hope it was good! How did you find out about Epic?

Thank you so much! :D You're so sweet!

Ohhhh, I have a LOT of animals I really love! But boiling it down, it's cliche but I will probably have to say cats. Like I don't ever want to live without one by my side. They have such a gentle, soft, and quiet love. As a "busybody" who gets overwhelmed sometimes, it's really nice to have tha calming, soft presence. :D

I also love a lot of flowers but I really love Iris' :D mostly the purple/blue ones as Blue is my favorite color. They bloom around my house and idk if this is normal for them but they smell REALLY sweet. almost like sugar or something! I also like "bleeding hearts" and peonies!

Words from a country bumpkin! Some people know this already but I learned that a lot of folks who grew up in cities don't know this so I thought I'd share! :D Also knowing that some y'all don't live in places where these thrive but either way still fun to learn about!

Also, don't just grab ANY pink clover and do this (some people spray these with pesticides) but I used to do this as a kid (still do honestly) as it's a sweet treat!

If you gently pull out the little "pink stalks", there will be the little "white ends". Don't EAT these but bite down on the white ends and you'll get some honey! :D

And my day is going pretty okay! :D Currently sitting with "Pumpkin", the lil stray kitty that we've semi adopted (we already have cats. and since she hasn't been to the vet yet (saving up) we're keeping them separate. so I just sit and play with her often so she doesn't get lonely.) And she sat in my lap for the first time yesterday! 😭 pretty excited as she was always too "anxious" to really relax in my lap before (mostly just walking across my lap) So I'm happy with that! :D Hope to get some writing today too!

And I got into Epic through seeing "The Horse and the Infant" a lot on youtube and I finally decided to check it out and fell in love with the music already but the "Penelopeeee~" was what made me know that "okay this will be a new obsession" and then fell down the Odyssey rabbit hole SO quick (first read a couple parts of Odyssey, then fully read Iliad, then fully read Odyssey...have read 6 translations at this point(I REALLY like this book, okay??? ))

And really opened up on tumblr. :D was really fucking shy with my ideas before but it's been really nice finding such a fun community

[chloe-spade]

The Glass Slippers Prologue: The. Beginning

🌠

Impossible..

For a yellow pumpkin

To become a golden carriage

Impossible

For a plain country bumpkin

And a prince to join in marriage

And four white mice

Will never be four white horses

Such a fol-de-rol and fiddledy dee dee

It's Impossible...!

🌠

Cater was a young lad, already just as bright and cheery as you expected a child to be. His view on the world was strange, but it was never frowned upon by his family, Lord and Lady Diamond, who adored him and treated him like a little prince. Sure, he didn't have a title or a castle, but the one thing he had was courage and kindness. Especially when it came to animals.

"Little Ace? Where did you go?" He called out in the gardens, "You shouldn't be out here alone." Cater looks down at the mouse and picks him up, giggling as Ace nibbles on some food. "Silly Ace," Cater giggles, "those are for the chickens, not for you. You could've just asked me for some."

Cater's mother laughed, tending the flowers. "Do you truly believe they can understand you?" she asked, looking at Cater.

Cater nods and helps Ace into his pocket, letting him continue eating. "And I think I can hear them speak as well, Mother. If you can concentrate on them speaking, you can hear words forming instead of little squeaks." Cater explained, petting Ace.

"I have told you that," Lady Diamond said, "I'm not surprised you can understand them. It takes the kindest of hearts to understand and care for even the smallest animals."

"Really?" Cater asked.

"Really. But there's so many more stuff to believe in, and when there's kindness, there's magic."

"Magic?? Like what, Mother?" Cater wondered.

"Fairy Godmothers..or some Fairy Godfathers." Lady Diamond whispered to Cater, "But shhh, it's a secret." Cater nods and covers his mouth, agreeing to keep her the secret.

Lord Diamond was a merchant who often had to leave for extended periods of time, so long that every time Cater heard the familiar pats of horses and the carriage, he was already running towards the entrance to meet his father, like he always does.

"Father!" He cried to the carriage.

"Haha! My boy!" Lord Diamond laughed and got off his carriage to give Cater a big hug. "My stars, you are growing every day!"

"Cater's a growing boy," Lady Diamond giggles.

"I can tell!" Cater laughs as his father sets him down on the fountain. His father gave him a present, it was small, but it was decorated beautifully. "Open it," he whispered. Cater carefully opened it, and it was a small butterfly-shaped locket, something matching his mother's. "Aw, you got him a Papillon Locket," Lady Diamond gasped, walking over to them, "It's like the one you got me."

"Well, I heard him talking about your locket and since I was traveling, I went to the nearest shop and found one."

Cater stared with a grin, "It's so beautiful! Thank you, Father."

"Anything for you, Cater." Cater hugged his father tightly and was lifted by his father once again.

"Now! How about some nice food and drinks," Lord Diamond suggested, "I am quite hungry after all my travels." Cater and his family spend the rest of the day in the gardens, starting a mini picnic, eating some food and looking up at the clouds, just relaxing underneath the summer sky. That night, Cater was starting to sleep, his eyes looking up at the paintings he painted, small butterflies sprawled across his walls and glowing birds. His mother was singing, it was a nice simple lullaby that he would always fall asleep to.

Lady Diamond carefully walks away, still singing, sending Cater to his Dreamland. Doors closed. The parents walked away from Cater's room, already speaking pleasantries of love toward each other, compliments and all before Lady Diamond slowed, causing some concerns. But before anyone knew, she fainted onto the ground, completely unresponsive until the doctor came to visit. Cater remembered that day, him outside his mother's room, hearing muffles belonging to his father and the doctor.

"She may not have enough time, I'm afraid," he heard the doctor say, "it's best to keep her inside until then." He watched the doctor getting up and walking out of the room, suitcase in hand, followed by Lord Diamond. "I'll be visiting in a couple of days to see any progress of recovery."

"Of course, doctor." Cater watched the man leave, too scared to move from his chair before he felt his father's hand on his back. "Come, Cater," his father spoke, "Your mother wants to speak to you." Cater looked and nods, getting up and walking into the room, head down.

His mother was now on her bed, her eyes showed sadness, almost no life in her eyes whatsoever, but she had her beautiful smile. "Cater," his mother spoke, her voice low, "May I tell you a secret? Just the two of us?" Cater walks over to his mother, hearing the door close behind him. He gets on the bed, hands intertwined with his mother's, fighting the tears that threatened to show.

"Cater," He remembered her say, "I know that this will bring you down and how it pains me to know that," her hand rested against his cheek, now wiping flowing tears, "I want you to smile, be happy, no matter what life does to bring you down, you'd best show that you won't let that bring you down and smile. Cause no matter how your heart is grieving, if you keep on believing, the dream that you wish will come true."

Cater sobs and hugs his mother, her arms weakly hugging him back. "..promise me," she whispered, "...have courage and be kind. Don't ever forget that. You have so much kindness in that heart than people in their entire body. Don't even stop being kind. Promise?"

"I-I promise!" Cater sobs, "I promise, Mother..."

"That's my son," she whispered, holding Cater close.

🌠

He found some comfort in the gardens after his mother's passing. He can sense her presence within it, like magic in the air.

"Look at this, Ace," Cater gasped.

"What is it?" Ace questioned.

Cater looks over to a small dandelion, "It's mother's favorite flower. It finally bloomed. After all that time." Cater watched how some dandelion petals flew in the air, far away from the gardens. "It's so beautiful," he sighed to himself.

"Cater!" Called out Lord Diamond, "Your friend has arrived!" Cater looked up to see his friend, Vil, and his father, Oliver Schoenheit, and younger baby brother, Epel.

He met Vil with some other friends of his, seeing him alone by the fountain and offered to play tag with him and they played for hours and hours before he had to leave, but he and Vil still wrote letters to each other and sometime visit for weeks. Today was no exception.

"Hi!" Cater greeted them, walking over to them, "Everything's ready for the picnic, and I even got food for Epel."

"Be gentle now," Oliver chuckles, handing Epel to Vil, "Epel has just started teething and he'll bite everything he got his hands on. I recommend you be very careful."

"I will, Mr. Schoenheit," Cater grinned. Both men nodded and walked inside, preceding their conversation. Vil and Cater walked over to the small picnic, disappointed that Ace had already started to eat the strawberries on the shortcakes.

"Ace!" Cater lectured, "Those are for our friends, and you promised you wouldn't eat them."

Ace squeaked and jumped down to escape, only to be grabbed by Epel's small fingers and almost eaten if it weren't for Vil interfering.

"Don't eat that, Epel," Vil lectures, "Mice are dirty."

Ace squeaked in offense as he scurried into Cater's pocket, hiding from the baby. "That's what happens when you eat someone else's food without permission." After settling down and starting their picnic, Vil started a conversation trying to feed Epel. "How are you feeling?"

"Uh..I've been well," Cater answered, looking down, "helping father around the house, tending the garden, and just...being me."

"I meant emotionally," Vil spoke, "You may be doing fine in a mental way, but you must be sad after what happened, Cater. You don't have to lie to me."

Cater looked away in silence before he began to sniffle, and soon after, started to cry. Vil grabbed Cater's hands and pulled Cater into a hug, patting his back and letting him cry.

"I miss her, Vil," Cater sobbed, "It's hard to forget that she isn't here anymore, that I still want to call out to her when something bloomed in the gardens. I hate that I always must remind myself..."

"That's how grieving works," Vil reassured, "this is the normal process, and you shouldn't be ashamed of it."

"I shouldn't?"

"Never. As my father says, you should give yourself time to grieve, and when that time has passed, it'll become a powerful memory."

"I like that."

"My father's a wise man." Vil grinned, "Now let it all out, Cater, and I'll be right here." The picnic lasted for the rest of the day, with Vil and Cater talking about the small things in their lives and watching the sunset.

✨

Cater was now 13, roaming around the town for some food with his father. He was carefully choosing some better fruits and vegetables, and he looks at his father, who was silent and seemed distracted. How distracted? He was now staring at a woman, someone beautiful, selling some lovely jewelry to many. Cater knew that look, his father was now starting to fall in love again. Not that Cater minded, however.

"Father? What's on your mind?" Cater asked.

"Oh, nothing, my boy," Lord Diamond laughed, "I got distracted. What did you get?"

"Father, I noticed you staring at that lovely women over there. Why don't you talk to her? I bet shes really lovely."

"Oh I can't do that, Cater." Lord Diamond stammered, "I-I don't want to seem odd to her."

"Oh, just go on ahead!" Cater encouraged, pushing his father away, "I'll be right here."

Cater watched his father walked over to the lovely women and start a conversation with her. "Hello," Lord Diamond spoke, "I couldn't help but noticed such a beautiful woman such as yourself around here."

"Oh," the women giggles, "Thank you, kind sir. You are a handsome man yourself." Lord Diamond grinned and took her hand a kisses it, "I am Cornelius Diamond, my lady."

"Rosalind Dior," the lady introduced herself. "That is a lovely name, Lady Rosalind Dior." Cater grinned, watching his father finally meeting someone new. It was nice to his father actually happy, after his grieving.

Turns out, Mrs. Dior was a widow, her husband dying of unknown poison throughout his entire body, no cure in sight. He left Rosalind with her daughters, Elise and Astrid, who are the same age as Cater. Cater also learned that although Mr. Dior was well off as a doctor, money was always tight around the household, but no reason was ever stated. They hit it off pretty well, going on dates frequently around town, sometimes even small picnics in the Diamond Estate Gardens. Cater adored watching them in the gardens from his bedroom window, though he couldn't interfere with the date.

It took only two years for them to wed and Cater was now meeting his stepsisters for the first time, although he's incredibly nervous.

"Cater, don't be nervous," Cornelius spoke, "those girls are the sweetest people I've ever met. And I'm sure they'll love you ever much." "I know," Cater smiles, "but it's someone new and we haven't had any guests live with us for...forever. And I just want to make a great first impression."

"You already remind me of your mother every day, Cater," Cornelius laughed. The horses alerted them about the girls' arrival, in such a dark carriage, with golden curves all around, surely something that gave Cater enough nervousness for him to grip his father's hand. The coachmen walked towards the door and opened it, revealing two young ladies, both pushing each other to get out of the carriage first, just for them to fall onto their faces and Cater rushing to their aid.

"Are you two ok?!" Cater asked, helping the girls up.

"You are such a nuisance, Elise!!" Astrid huffed, fixing her dress and hair, "I told you have gotten fat! You shouldn't eat those cakes."

"Excuse me," Elise scoffed, "It seems like you are the one who's getting fat."

"Girls, girls," Rosalind spoke, carefully getting off the carriage, "That wasn't a very good impression on our new family." "Not my fault she's getting horribly fat..."

"You haven't even thanked Cater for helping your clumsy butts." Rosalind walked over and patted Cater's head.

Cornelius walks over and kisses Rosalind on the cheek, which he received back. "It's great to see you at our home, my dear," Cornelius grinned, "this home is now your home."

"Aw, such a wonderful thing to say," Rosalind swooned, "that's what I adore of you, darling. Now please excuse my daughters' incredibly rude manners. They haven't even introduced themselves yet." The girls immediately stood up and bowed towards Cornelius, still glaring at each other with hatred.

"Cornelius, Cater," Rosalind spoke, "These are my beautiful daughters, Elise and Astrid."

"A pleasure," both girls spoke in unison. "It's a pleasure to meet you two," Cater greeted, looking at the girls, "Let me show you around."

"Such a nice gentleman." That's how it went from day to day, Cornelius was out for the day, leaving the rest to try to bond, or at least try too. It wasn't easy, considering that Astrid and Elise fought over everything, clothes, makeup, and food. It also leads to big messes in their rooms, which Cater tripped over multiples times when visiting their rooms. Rosalind was more manageable, as she was simply in her office, creating more jewelry for her shop.

She's a busy lady so Cater doesn't bother her often. Though on Sundays, Rosalind would have small get-togethers to massive parties, which can be fun for Cater, but it's also tiring. He's amazed at how Astrid and Elise are able to stay up after midnight. One Sunday, he greeted the guests and joined his father in his study to read his book.

"Not partying, Cater?" Cornelius chuckled, not looking up from his papers. "Not tonight," Cater answered, "I partied myself too hard last weekend, and I just need to finish this book before I return it."

"Since when do you read, Cater?"

"Vil told me that reading is a good escape from reality. And he's right, I've been immersed in this story for hours now." Cornelius nodded and continued his paperwork. "How about you?"

"Eh, you know I don't exactly care about parties, not when there's work to be done."

Cater looks over and walks over to Cornelius, looking at the notes he's been writing. "You're leaving again?" Cater spoke, "But you just came back a week ago. Shouldn't you be relaxing more?"

"Cater. I know you are concerned but I need to do this for the family, and to keep this house alive and thriving for you." Cornelius gets up and holds Cater close. "Especially when your mother's memory is still inside it."

Cater hugs him back, "...I can still feel her presence here. It..it'll be wrong to leave this place." Then he looks up at his father, "Do you still miss her?"

"Oh, every day," Cornelius answered, "I miss so many things about her, but what she left is extraordinary," he kept Cater close, "she gave me you, my glorious gift, and with you, her spirit lives in, even now."

Cater chuckles, still comfortable in his father's arms. "Then I'll do my best to keep her legacy here and forever more."

"And that is why I see such a beautiful spirit soul within you. I wouldn't be surprised if it's your mother's." They talked for much longer, unaware that Rosalind overheard that conversation and felt betrayed, heartbroken even.

She saw how Cornelius gravitated toward Cater, always complimenting his abilities, whether it was his gardening to his singing. Sure, he complimented Astrid and Elise, but no one was surprised when Cornelius said he cherished Cater. Why wouldn't he? Cater was his son , and that boy has a striking resemblance to Lady Diamond, who she seen in portraits that have been taken to the attic after her passing. But none of that attention has even gone to her. Since they've gotten married, due to his traveling, gifts don't seem to satisfy her anymore. But she lets the boys be and walks back to the party.

✨

"Now," Cornelius said, getting ready for his travels, "Anything you want from my travels?"

"Oh, a new dress," Rosalind spoke.

"Oh! Chocolate-covered strawberries!" Elisa cheered, "Something yummy and delicious."

"Fatty," hissed Astrid, "for me, necklaces, something to compliment my beautiful skin."

"And you, my son?" Cornelius asked Cater. "Oh, I don't need anything. I just want you to come back home safely."

"Of course, Cater." Cornelius grinned as gets on his carriage and with one last smile, he rode off, waving back before leaving. Everyone walked back inside and went through the day as normal, through Elise's and Astrid's arguments were driving Cater insane.

"That is mine!!" Astrid called, "You are a little thief!!"

Cater groaned to himself, clearly annoyed. He walked downstairs to escape from the noise and sees Rosalind having some tea in the gardens and figured why not join her? "Ma'am," He greeted, sitting down by the table.

"Oh, Cater, you don't have to be so polite," Rosalind grinned and offered some tea, "tea?"

"Thank you."

"I suppose you came outside because of the girls wretched arguing," Rosalind groaned, "I do apologize, those girls are not used to sharing a room. And their room is a cluttered mess on top of that."

"Oh no, I don't mind the arguing. I figured that's how siblings can be sometimes."

"You are so understanding, Cater," she takes a sip, "though I do wish for a solution. My girls can't stop fighting."

"Well..I can lend one of them my room," Cater offered, "and I can sleep in the-"

"The attic!" Rosalind cheered, "Such a fantastic idea, dear Cater! It's a perfect place for someone who needs some quiet in their life, hmm Cater?"

"Oh..uh, sure," Cater relented, "I'll tell the girls the good news."

Cater was moved to the attic as soon as he could, moving most of his stuff up there, even some sentimental items, like his Papillon Locket, which he wore every day. Squeaks caught his attention, and he looked over at the mouse's residence.

"Cater!" called Ace, "What are you doing here!?"

"Ace," Cater laughed, "so this is the place you and your friends reside. It looks comfy, though a little small."

"It's small but it's comfy and homey for us!"

"And who are you two?"

"I'm Riddle," the red one introduced himself, "I'm the one who keeps Ace and Ruggie in check if they get in trouble! Especially if it comes to them eating all the food." He then glared at the second mouse.

"You can keep a hungry mouse away from delicious food," the second mouse burped, "The name's Ruggie! If you have any food, I'll forgive you!"

"Duly noted," Cater chuckles, "I'll make sure you'll get some food."

Cater spent most of his time in that attic, cleaning it and fixing it up to make it a room for him and his new friends. It helps that he finally has time to himself when he gets chores done. But that day was a rainy one, hearing a knock on the door, and Cater answered.

"Excuse me, sir, are Cater Diamond?" The postman asked. "Yes, is something the matter?"

"Then I'm afraid I bare some horrible news," the postman spoke and handed Cater a letter, "It's from the kingdom across the land."

Cater hesitantly begins to read the letter that mentioned how Cornelius has caught a horrible plague while on his travels, which lead to his demise.

"I am so sorry, my child," the postman whispered, "your father was a good man, Cater. I wish I came with much happier news." Cater nodded and closed the door, before he began to sob, leaning on the door, clutching the letter in his hands.

✨

Things haven't gotten better with Cater as such horrible events, as he began to be overworked by his stepfamily. He wasn't being treated as family, no, he was treated as a servant, someone who isn't worth looking at. It is taking such a toll on Cater. There were nights when he sobbed and sobbed hard until he passed out. This led to where he was now, scrubbing the furnace and the only source of light was a single candle and a small window. His scrubbing pace begins to slow as tears form, messing with his vision. He couldn't continue as he begins to cry, cry to himself and cry to the world.

"I can't," he sobs, "why did this happen to me? It's hard to live in a place where you can't escape, even when people watch you suffer and do nothing about it but smile. No one can help you, no one to support you.." Cater looks up at the window, seeing a big star. "Would it be worth it to wish upon a star? To wish for an outcome that'll never happen?" He looks up at the window and sighs. "I suppose it could not hurt." He grips his locket and sighs. "I wish...I wish for an escape, or not just that..a way to maybe make this easier, to find a reason to make me happy again. I wish for that."

The star in front of him twinkled before it suddenly grew and was moving towards him, causing Cater to freak out and watch as the star zoomed past him and into the supply closet. Cater rushed over to the closet, almost hesitating to even open it.

"Well," coughed a stranger, "I wish I could've had a better landing," he groaned and getting up, unaware of the bucket over his head. "...who...?" Cater questioned before a few sparkles filled the air, creating a person, someone small and have big eyes.

"Kalim," he spoke in a surprisingly deep, "are you alright? You seem to have quite the ride down here."

"... dizzy..." Cater carefully takes the bucket from the stranger's head and helps him down on the chair. "I'll ask again," Cater questions, "Who are you two?"

"Oh, Cater dear," laughed the one standing, "We are your Fairy Godfathers. And we are here to help and guide you." "Guide me?" "Yeah! I'm Kalim," Kalim introduced himself, "and this is Lilia."

"Pleased to meet you," Lilia spoke, "Now..."

"I can't believe this," Cater muttered, "This isn't happening, this is not happening. I must have so much dust in my brain."

"Oh no, you know we exist," Lilia chuckles, "your mother believed in us quite often."

"My mother?"

"Yeah! She puts her faith in us, and so did you," Kalim pauses, "Well, until all of this, I mean...Hmm," Kalim walks around, "dust over here and there...dust is everywhere! I can't believe this..."

"May I ask why he's freaked out?" Cater asked, "Shouldn't I be freaking out by the fact that you two just arrived out of nowhere?"

"Oh don't mind him," Lilia laughed, "he's one of our new faes, and this is technically his first human. I'm here 'cause I want to and a guide."

"....that…makes sense…?" Cater nods as he and Lilia watch Kalim inspect the entire area, occasionally sneezing.

"That's enough, Kalim, you'll get dizzy sneezing like that." Kalim grabbed his wand and began to look around. He saw a broom and smiled wildly. "Now... what're the magic words."

"Magic?" Questioned Cater," What does he mean by magic?"

Lilia summoned his wand. "Oh don't fret too much, it's what we do. As fairy godfathers, we try to make you happy."

"I don't think I wished for happiness." Cater remarked, watching Kalim, "did I?"

"But you wished for a better way to deal with this mess of chores. So, we're here." Lilia grabbed some cleaning supplies." Bibbity," he looks at Cater with a smile, "Bobbity," he raises his wand, "Boo!"

Cater gasped as some of the brooms begins to move by themselves as if they were walking and with Lilia's guide, they begins to sweep.

"That's right!" Kalim laughed, "Bibbity Bobbity Boo!" With Kalim's magic, the scrubbing utensils that Cater was using were now beginning to clean the furnace, freeing Cater from cleaning it all night.

"I...I am so confused," Cater whispered. "It can be," Kalim agreed, "but don't worry, I'll be here to help you with all these messy chores." "..what should I do?"

"Oh, you should only get some rest, Cater," Lilia sets Cater down, "leave everything else to us. You deserve sleep." Cater nodded and yawned, before resting on a near-comfy mattress, created by Kalim.

"Kalim, I do need to leave soon," Lilia remarked, "Tell me that you can handle this job by yourself?"

"I will, and I'll do my best for Cater. I won't let anything bad happen to him as long as I have my wand."

"That's why I love working with you, Kalim. You have a fun spirit."

With that, Lilia disappeared, leaving Kalim by himself. "Well, I can't just sit here! A Fairy Godfather's work is never done!"

✨

Cater was awakened by footsteps, harsh ones. He knew that Rosalind was awake and was ready to see if Cater cleaned the basement.

"Cater!" She yelled, "You better have that nice and clean basement when I get down there!"

Cater looked around and was surprised to see the entire basement clean, though he could barely remember cleaning the entirety of it. He stood tall as Rosalind took her last step, examined the basement, and seemed impressed by the cleanness of it.

"Hmm..you managed to clean it all and cook breakfast," Rosalind scoffed, "...you are dismissed for now." Cater was still confused about it all but rushed over to his room in the attic, to catch his breath and to understand what happened last night.

"You look frazzled," Riddle pointed out, "Did something happen?"

"I... must've been... sleepwalking," Cater muttered, "I must've! Cause I have no recollection of cleaning that entire basement, and now she said I made breakfast."

"That's because of me!" Called out a voice inside Cater's pocket. Cater gasped and investigated his pocket to see a new mouse he's never seen before, just resting in his pocket. "..how?"

"It's me! Kalim!" In a burst of magic, Kalim appeared in the room, almost tripping.

"Who are you?!" Ace asked, "And what was that!?"

"...that wasn't a dream...?" Cater gasps, "You're real," he sits down on his bed.

"Yep! If you need a recap I can tell ya," Kalim grinned, "I am Kalim, your personal Fairy Godfather, here to make almost all wishes come true."

".... weren't there two of you?"

"You mean Lilia? Yeah, but he's a retired senior Fairy Godfather, so you might see him check in a few times."

"..why?" "Well, you are... technically my first human," Kalim admitted, "My first ever case."

"Oh... that's...nice to hear," Cater spoke slowly, still trying to process everything.

With a wave of his wand, a book appeared that was titled "Guides to Fairy God Mothers/Fathers, a guide for humans. "I can help you understand. It just needs some work."

"I... I have enough time."

✨

Lilia walked by the castle halls, getting back from late-night Fairy Godfathering. It has been so long since he retired but it's nice to help new souls occasionally. Though he made a habit of being late to his duties.

"You are late, Vanrouge," spoke the queen, "Malleus's training with his guards if you need to see him."

Lilia chuckles to himself, and he bows toward the queen. "Forgive me," he spoke, "Something happened last night that needed my attention. It was mostly all night, your majesty."

"Ugh, I suppose I can't fault you for that. You are one of my best supervisors, and the only person Malleus seems to listen to these days."

"Another argument?" Lilia gasps.

"Yes. Please speak to him." The queen sighs, "Oh, what did I do wrong? Malleus's next in line and all I say was that he needed to marry since he's so close now!"

"That is unfortunate, yes. I'll go speak with him."

Lilia bowed again and walked away to meet Malleus in the training yard, a place where Malleus would vent or fight his frustrations out, especially with the news of an arranged marriage floating around.

"Oh? Without me?" Lilia laughed as he grabbed a sword from thin air. "You are late, Father."

"Master Lilia!" "I don't need you," Malleus hissed, "and I don't need a bride that would rule the land with me! I am capable of doing that on my own."

"Oh, but you forgot," Lilia stood in front of Malleus, "you only have a few years until you have to wed someone of your grandmother's choice."

"Why should it be her choice?" Malleus questioned, "Will I even have a choice?"

"Wait until the opportunity opens," Lilia said as he dodges Malleus's sword swipes, only for him to sweep Malleus of his feet, "and when that day comes, be ready for someone to sweep you off your feet."

"How can you be so sure?" Malleus huffed.

"Well, think of it as an intuition." Lilia spoke, helping Malleus up, "and trust me, dear boy, when you meet that special someone," he watched as birds flew high above, singing to each other, "you may never want to let them go."

[terriblesportsimagines]

Hello lovely! I hope requests are still open, if not, just ignore me. 😊 This is maybe a strange request, but I'm a basic country bumpkin girl and I'm curious as to what your headcanons would be of Hongou, Harada, and Yuki Masashi from DNA would be like as farmers, and how would they react to coming home to their cute little farmhouse after a long hard day to their sweet wife cooking supper?

Admittedly, this is a little strange, but out of the ordinary asks are always welcome!  I will say though (and this is NO judgment on the ask or on you dear anon) something about the phrase ‘sweet wife’ makes my skin crawl lol  It’s definitely a personal squick, I don’t even know why, there’s literally nothing wrong with it?  Ignore my ramblings – sweet wives coming up!

I hope this is what you wanted… I went a little more generic than specific scene than I meant to, but I hope it’s still good!

Hongou Masamune

Even farming, this one is a little grumpy.  He treats his farm like he treats baseball in canon.  Serious business, hard work.

We’re going to assume that he has farm hands/employees here, and he works them to the bone.  He’s a fair boss, but tough, and terrifying in some cases.  Still, somehow all the workers love him?  They are rarely that intimidated.

This is because every single person in his life knows that he is 1000% devoted to his wife, and said wife would be displeased if he treated anyone on their staff poorly, and it goes without saying that to disappoint wifey is off limits to anyone.

Not that he would admitted it, and the look one would get if you say such a thing out loud would probably kill you.  Pretends his wife isn’t his whole world, grumbling and complaining when his workers tease him.  Doesn’t actually realize he gives himself away when he visits the house like 10 times a day to check on you.

Steals kisses every time.

He works hard so he likes to be pampered.  Complains about any food but yours.  Always makes you sit down when he eats because he wants to hear you talk and watch and make sure you are eating enough.

His favorite time is when he’s done for the day and he gets to go home.  Lurks for a while, though you know he’s there, because he likes to just watch you scuttle around the kitchen humming.  You’re so cute and lovely it actually causes his heart to ache.

When the ache gets painful enough, he steps into the kitchen and steals you up into his arms, just hugging and snuggling you for as long as he can get away with.

Harada Masatoshi

It’s much easier for Harada to delegate than the other two.  He works really hard, but he has better time management skills in general, so he has more time for himself, and conversely, you.

He’s strict with his time.  Of course, there is a lot of overtime on a farm, since things never go to plan, but somehow he makes these sorts of surprises seem negligible?  He is god tear organization.

He’s probably the calmer one in the relationship, steady and supportive.  For him, there’s no such thing as tasks that are ‘male’ or ‘female’  He will absolutely do housework if it’s needed, and often does just so that you don’t overwork yourself by stretching yourself thin.  Never tells you that you can’t work the farm as well.  However you want to divide the work is fine.

A secret part of him prefers it when you work inside, because then he gets to come home to you and there’s a special satisfaction in that.

He’s affectionate, but in subtle ways.  Fits his style to match yours, like if you want more demonstrative signs of affection, he’ll give you kisses, or initiate touch.  In general, the type to wait for you.  It’s just how he is, but he never disappoints you.

Is gentle and surprisingly soft.  He’ll help you when he comes back to the house, rather than sit down to rest, no matter how often you scold him for it.  He just can’t sit when you’re still working, so always finds needed tasks, even without you telling him.

He will never say it, but if you reward him with a kiss, his whole day is made.

Yuki Masashi

His focus tends to be so singular that he forgets certain things, and takes things for granted.

Things like you.

That’s not to say he isn’t a good husband, or that he doesn’t love you.  Quite the opposite, it’s just that he has a one track mind that makes it hard to deviate from that one track.

If not interrupted, he will continue to think about farm things, even when he’s eating and supposed to be spending time with you.  Of course, you have to know this when you marry him so I imagine that you are well versed in distracting him.

His intense focus is not entirely negative, however.  Once it had shifted to you, you’d better hold on.  He listens very well, and very intently, and takes all of your concerns seriously.

Looks to you for guidance in responses, but over time he learns what he needs to do until it’s instinctual.

Never hides anything from you, no matter how ugly it might be, and considers you his best and closest friend.  He loves your smile, and the soft curve of your cheek and the way you smell when he buries his nose into your neck (quite the challenge given how big he is).

In his mind, your relationship has always been a partnership, no matter the context.  When he comes home, even if he hasn’t snapped out of his work brain yet, he is able to relax, and being near you is all he really wants subconsciously.  Tells you about his day without you asking and has the habit of pulling you into his lap as he sits at the table to do just that.

[apocalypticavolition]

Let's (re)Read The Eye of the World! Chapter 28: Footprints in Air

Yup, we're back to Whitebridge and I'm up to my old tricks. This reread is going to have spoilers for everything in the whole damn series and if you don't like that, you should skip this post. And maybe block the spoiler tags.

For everyone else, let's talk chapter icons! We've got Moiraine's staff again, and it might as well be her magnifying glass because she is playing detective this time around. She also plays off of Nynaeve, our POV, this time around (and really any time she and Nynaeve are in the same room).

Another legend, and they don’t even seem to notice. She resolved not to stare where they could see. They’ll laugh if they see me gaping like a country bumpkin.

Nynaeve is really good at getting in the way of her own happiness. Moiraine is way too busy contemplating the singular purpose to which she's dedicated her life to at the exclusion of all else like some kind of 90s anti-hero and her statue of a Warder would probably start gushing at Nynaeve about every cool relic he'd ever seen if he thought it would make her smile. While part of Nynaeve's attitude is just about spiting Moiraine, I think her insecurities come from the same kind of logic that Rand observed in how Wisdoms wouldn't possibly be allowed to dance at festivals: she's not allowed to have emotion or she's even worse at her job than everyone treats her already.

The scowl made her feel like a girl who had been caught acting the fool by someone in the Women’s Circle. That was a feeling Nynaeve was not used to, and the calm smile on Moiraine’s face only made it worse.

See what I mean? Nynaeve hasn't let herself be imperfect in a long, long time.

If only there was some way to get rid of the woman. Lan would be better by himself—a Warder should be able to handle what was needed, she told herself hastily, feeling a sudden flush; no other reason—but one meant the other.

"Their romance comes out of nowhere!" - people who clearly didn't read this sentence closely.

It weighed on Moiraine and Lan, too, as outwardly unperturbable as they were. She soon realized that, beneath their calm surfaces, hour by hour they wound tighter and tighter, like clocksprings being forced to the breaking point. Moiraine seemed to listen to things that were not there, and what she heard put a crease in her forehead. Lan watched the forest and the river as if the leafless trees and wide, slow water carried the signs of traps and ambushes waiting ahead.

They spent the last two weeks assuming that they were finally done looking and could get onto the much easier part of their job of fleeing to Tar Valon. Their POVs right now would be absolutely hysterical and full of exciting expletives, most of which Moiraine learned from Siuan.

Then, contradicting what he had just said, he added, “You should go back to your Two Rivers when we reach Whitebridge, and the Caemlyn Road. It’s too dangerous here. Nothing will try to stop you going back, though.” It was the longest speech he made all that day.

Much like Rand, Lan wants to keep his loved ones out of danger. If they were flirting any more strongly, Moiraine would have to look away for decency's sake.

Around the square at the foot of the White Bridge piles of blackened timbers, still leaking smoky threads, replaced half a dozen buildings. Men in poorly fitting red uniforms and tarnished armor patrolled the streets, but they marched quickly, as if afraid of finding anything, and they looked over their shoulders as they went. Townspeople—the few who were out—almost ran, shoulders hunched, as though something were chasing them.

Western Andor really isn't going to recover from Rand's recent tour for years, is it? And Elayne really has her work cut out for her; Whitebridge isn't anywhere near as far away from Caemlyn as Baerlon. It is a distance, but the books have already noted that this is one of the only river crossings anywhere in the continent.

Of course, maintaining the bridge is a complete non-issue because it's magic and not repairable even if it did start breaking anyway. If anything happened they'd have to just scrap it and start all the way over. So the crown would have no strong reason to worry about this place and without any serious military threats (*points and laughs at Altara and Murandy*), funding is quite possibly lower to this place than it is to Baerlon, whose mining territories aren't supernatural so far as we know.

So I guess the worldbuilding for the near collapse of Andorian territory actually checks out in a lot of ways!

The truth of the matter was there was a man somewhere in the town meddling with the One Power. It was time to have the Aes Sedai in; past time, was the way they saw it, no matter what the men said about Tar Valon. Let the Red Ajah settle matters. One man claimed it had been an attack by bandits, and another said a riot by Darkfriends. “Those ones going to see the false Dragon, you know,” he confided darkly. “They’re all over the place. Darkfriends, every one.” Still others spoke of some kind of trouble—they were vague about exactly what kind—that had come downriver on a boat.

This is a rare moment in the series where the rumors are more right than wrong. There was a male channeler in town (even though they couldn't have known that, because Rand did nothing), the Fade attack is basically a Darkfriend, and the trouble did indeed come downriver on a boat. Poor Bayle, being driven off for something that wasn't his fault. On the plus side, it may have saved him from further problems.

He seemed resplendent to Nynaeve, in his peaked helmet and burnished breastplate, until he took a pose just inside the door, with a hand resting on the hilt of his sword and a stern look on his face, and used a finger to ease his too-tight collar. It made her think of Cenn Buie trying to act the way a Village Councilor should.

By the end of the series, quite a few people will have put on costumes they never thought they'd wear. Maybe even this militia guy will have the benefit of growing into his role. He's certainly just a dick now though. What kind of asshole tries to kick Nynaeve out of town?

The Aes Sedai studied the tabletop for a moment before raising her eyes to Nynaeve’s, and when she did, Nynaeve started back from a flash of anger that almost seemed to make Moiraine’s eyes glow. Then her back stiffened, her own anger rising, but before she could say a word, the Aes Sedai spoke coldly.

It's incredible that Moiraine spent years being trained to modulate her emotions, first in the crazy political schemes of Cairhien and then by the White Tower itself, and Nynaeve gets her to be openly angry in just two weeks! She could make anyone break.

And that's a wrap on another short chapter. See ya next time for another Perrin POV!

[namelesschurch]

The time distortion is a little inconvenient. Going back through seven days worth of Tunglr posts is not my idea of a good time, especially with Lev missing. At the very least, she sent something to indicate she's safe, probably during the whole frozen time business.

---

It does beget the question on who exactly is on Mokuba's account. No one seems... suspicious or anything, even with the whole abrupt changes. I don't know Mokuba as much as Lev does, so I don't know how much he gives into flights of fancy - not to mention that everyone I'm assuming who is part of the rescue squad has not messaged back. Sarandiel in particular has commented on Rook's (the one that Lev said will be there) absence.

Erna visited Chi, Lev, and myself before Lev's departure to help out Mokuba. Her visit involved figuring out what exactly happened to her friends back in her own world - where it seems that their souls were Called away from their bodies. Lev and Erna were really the ones who took the lead in that convo, given my lack of magical ability and can only find excerpts in the research that might be useful. It is comforting though that whoever took their souls seems to intend to bring them back, cause Lev is right on that regard - if the perpetrator was just stealing souls, there's no need to keep the connection with the body. Erna herself was a delight to have - maybe part of it is knowing someone came from a rural place with a knowledge of farming - country bumpkins meeting each other haha.

Æthelthryth (thunderclapd) is an interesting, if a bit violent, person. Seems to exist in a world where dying can be made into an inconvenience - though it can be made permanent. Very strong-sounding person, and the selfie I've seen sorta shows that. Attractive in a "I feel secure" sort of way. ANYWAY. I need to add that Æ symbol into the kaomoji section - or just her entire name in general.

--

Other updates.

Lex Luthor (hello-mrpresident) seems to have suffered an assassination attempt. He seems fine though, if a little irritated at the upped security. It's odd given that he's a superhero in his own right, so it's an assassin trying to take on a superhero with known superheroes assisting said hero (ultra-rage, Jester).

Bruce Wayne (somethinginthewayne) has encountered an incident where he dislocated a limb (suspected to be anterior dislocation of the shoulder, common things being common). As I've made an inconsiderate ass of myself earlier, I am a little reluctant on pursuing this topic further beyond concern.

Kalim. Missed the mentions of the Starsending ceremony if there are there. I can't go back that many posts without it affecting my waking hours and actual work. Will probably just ask Kalim with the excuse of time screwing up. The BC Potato came back with some sort of

Ember's...turned in a god? I'm not entirely sure what's going on in that part of the universe other than Ember deciding that his world has been in the crapper long enough. The video of the U.N. getting disrupted is mighty impressive.

Met Siege the day prior to Starsending for the sake of folding stars. Oddly enough, I expected to be a lot more surprised about seeing a skeleton in the Living Room, but I guess my brain's a bit wired towards the whole "just a physical shell" nowadays. Chi gets along with Siege - I was a bit worried that Siege didn't seem like he was treating Chi like...the original, I guess - but it seems to be okay. Maybe she's even more comfortable that way? I don't know.

Kris. He helped make stars with Chi and I for Starsending. I do have a feeling this dream world of Chi's would be up his alley. However, I want Lev's input first though as she is the one who is most familiar with Chi. I don't want to alarm anybody if this just happens to be one of Chi's quirky abilities.

[cagenewman]

I do, but it's so much more fun to tease you. I'm going to pass on the moss, mostly because I really like the suit jacket that I got, I'm pretty excited for you to see the whole outfit put together. I think you'll be very impressed by how nicely your country bumpkin farmer woodworker boyfriend can clean up. That's what I want, and for my eyes to turn into literal hearts and to yell 'awooga' over how drop dead gorgeous you look, just like in the cartoons. It'll probably be gentle, subtle camo, I don't think anyone is going to show up in a full-on hunting suit… probably. Actually, you know what? That should have been in the rules, listed under 'please do not.' You don't like sounding like you've smoked a pack a day for twenty years? I like your voice just the way that it is, don't worry. It still hits all the right notes and does all the good things to me, I promise. Honestly, I think that's all that you can do, is be there for him if he needs you to be, and otherwise let him figure things out for himself. I mean, I fully think he'll end up in the same spot you're in, not having much to do with them. You can't tell me that by now they haven't realized he's in town, Merrock's not big enough for them to be that clueless. I don't know if I ever told you this, but my dad has a couple of articles that he clipped from the local paper when your brother left for the service. Granted, okay, my dad also kept like, articles about Elise and her business and Alec from his band days, but I still thought it was kind of neat. I know, I think it's like… middle child syndrome. Kellan's learned by now to let 'em be, and I'm still figuring it out. But I want to be able to have family dinners again without this one being here or that one being too busy, you know? I think we will, he seemed game for it, going off grid and living off the land for a weekend -- and it'll give me a little reset between jobs, since we're starting on a new house in August, so I want to get in the time with him. And you deserve a good girls night, too. Break out the wine and… what else do you do, watch old Nsync videos and paint each others nails? I'm teasing, it'll be fun. No, exactly, something we can live in and work on as we go. As long as it has a working kitchen, bathroom, and a place for everyone to sleep. Is it weird that I think about it a lot? Like if I'm out driving and I see a house for sale, I try to imagine what it would be like if that was our house. But if you're distracted with sex, you're not talking. … that sounded really bad taken out of context, but I didn't mean it like that. I'm not dreaming of drool! I don't dream of drool, maybe that's what you're doing in your free time. Babe, don't worry, it's fine. But please put some pep in your step and shake off the sleepies, because I have the day off tomorrow, and I'm picking you up for lunch at Overlook. My treat, just me and you. Other than checking in at the shop, I'm off until that job I mentioned in August, and I want to spend some time with you. I'll even give you a sneak peek of the Chapel.

I've got plenty sense of adventure, you should know that better than anyone. If you like we can always put some moss into a suit and that way I'm adjacent to the the cool outfit, if you like. Don't worry if you like we can do the whole grand reveal, me walking down the stairs, whatever you would like to have a full moment. No, you'd be hunting Bambi's mother which is just as bad, maybe worse! I've no doubt that people will slip in camo and different things like that to be able to give the woodsy feel for the men. Just don't want to think about poor little deer without their mom while dancing around the floor. Good, I'm glad the whole low voice doesn't do it for you. Makes my voice far too raspy and weird throat feeling trying to do the whole deeper voice. Guess you'll have to deal with sweet nothings whispered to you in my normal voice. It's just one of those things where he has to figure out this piece on his own. I'll be there to talk to him if he needs it, but I don't think it'd be fair to have my bias in his ear. I won't pretend that I don't really have plans to reconnect to my parents anytime soon. If he feels like he needs to see them then I don't want him to think that he can't because I don't want or have a relationship with them. Who knows, maybe they've changed and with him it could be something different but I don't know, it puts me a bit on edge. It's hard, having so many siblings, they're not all going to get along at the same time. Plus there's an age range between them, different personalities, feelings, things like that. You know you don't have to play mediator, they're all adults. Sometimes they need to have arguments to figure out who they are more, what their relationships will be with each other. Think you should definitely take Colton out camping. Have a father/son bonding trip, have all the fun, and I can see if Olivia wants to have a girls night and then have a girls night with Rosalyn. Though I'm sure that he didn't mean to hurt you by saying that, but it's a good wakeup call to have a guys weekend. No! Definitely not, don't want it to be a house that we take five years to move into because while we know this is something that is going to happen. I don't want to spend half a decade because it needs that much renovating or building. Like you said it's different if you can move in and doing some of the projects, but I'm also not trying to speed anything along either. You do have a way to make my brain go quiet, but remember those ways of making it go quiet tend to lead to other things, and those other things are practice for certain creations. You sleep pretty soundly, all I'm saying is that you either severally underestimate your pets or you're dreaming of drool. Though it could be your own drool you're seeing and just attempting to blame it on poor little me! Can't believe how lazy I was this weekend, the incoming heat and weather has taken all of my energy out of me. Sorry I was such a lazy woman the last few days. Going to have to attempt to put some pep back into my step after a good nights sleep tonight. So long as Rosalyn lets me.

[lmsr-lilitu-sephiroth]

I'm just going to say it, I guess. I'm literally one of those people who was raised in such isolation that I didn't realize that racism was still thriving for a long time. I may have been born in a huge city, but I've never really lived in one. My mom and her side of the family liked the woods where I mostly grew up until I was fourteen. Then I moved to a small town with my dad's side of the family. It was still really white, of course, but I met more people of color at the regional vocational school.

I learned a little teeny bit about it from pop media (The Color Of Friendship, for example), but never really could understand it. Since I forgot most of foster care, bigotry was an unknown concept to me. I got that some people were treated differently for how they look, but it didn't make sense.

Side note, one of my favorite country music songs as a child, and even now, is called Don't Laugh At Me by Mark Wills.

‘Don't laugh at me; don't call me names; don't get your pleasure from my pain; in God's eyes, we're all the same; someday we'll all have perfect wings’

I took that to heart entirely, underneath all the trauma responses. That said, the trauma left me afraid of everything by the time I was an adult, and I'm sure it looked off to others at times (and in all honesty, I'm still working on it, because it's not only a little teeny bit). But I like living in a more diverse place. I grew up believing that diversity is good and makes us all better.

I'm not sure where this post is going, but that's some of where I come from in life. A country bumpkin horrified to learn that racism and general bigotry were still all too well alive.

[leam1983]

Moisture

So, yeah. Gots me a brain scan scheduled for tomorrow evening, so I'm under the medical obligation to hydrate like my life depends on emptying two bathtubs' worth of glug-glug juice before the next 24 hours end. As to why, it's because iodine is a bitch to properly evacuate post-exam, Lube up those kidneys, apparently, and things get much easier.

The problem is, as stated before, I have asthma. I have my ISO 9002 certs in Mucus Production, and my lungs produce the finest, clearest ooze in all the land. When I'm less obsessively soaked, it has a bit of a phlegmmy consistency that, paradoxically, makes it easier to ignore. I can breathe easily for several hours, normally, and suddenly feel the need to duck to the side and out of sight to scrape my airways. Without too much water content, the entire excess mass comes out in one go, ready to be either spat or sneezed into oblivion.

Now, though, this shit's liquid as fuck. It's just slightly grippy and doesn't follow along with my attempts to free up my trachea, which makes me cough more and irritates my airways. I haven't driven myself to nausea in decades and yet here I am, fetching a bowl from the kitchen...

Walt glances at me. "Oh, I don't need you to start on the potatoes until about six, you've still got an hour to go."

I respond by inhaling as if the intake were an extra pair of arms I were shoving down my throat-hole, and producing the kind of wheezing cough you'd expect out of someone who's treated their lungs for a grafted-on Party Mix box of Pall Malls.

"Yeah, that's not for the potatoes..." I say. Sarah doesn't really know what to do, but Walt gestures for patience as he sets the kettle to boil and picks another bowl.

"You never told me," asks the big guy, "did your parents ever try clapping?"

Ah, yes, the time-honored tradition of bashing an asthmatic person's back until everything that's stuck to their lungs falls off and surrenders to that Final Cough of Attained Pulmonary Freedom. I haven't had one of those in years, and non-asthma-savvy parents and wet noodles always misconstrue it as abuse.

"Yeah," I croak. "Wanna slap the fuck out of me?"

Walter rolls up his sleeves and puts on a fake Country Bumpkin accent. "'Til yer nice an' cleared up, boy," he says.

I hack up again. "This is why I'm such a stingy drinker, honestly..."

Sarah goes to work on the potatoes. "Focus on the high notes you'll be able to hit after this!"

Minutes later, I'm in this weird situation where Walt is beating the crap out of my exposed back - but I don't want him to stop. I'll be red as a tomato and maybe even bruised in one or two spots, but I'm finally getting rid of that wretched alveolar payload.

I try imagining this in the context of another dinner with our gay friends. "So anyway, Walt beat the shit out of me. It was awesome."

If awkwardness had a prize or an honorary mention, I'd probably earn one of those.

[sweater-daddiesdumbdork]

It's Halloween. You have the house all decked out. Well, Curtis has done most of the work but you supervise.

Are you more a down-home country bumpkin Halloween? Colourful leaves in the yard. Smiley stuffed scarecrows. Bales of hay. Happy, mixed coloured pumpkins and dressed up in cute couple costumes like Romeo & Juliet or a cow and a farmer and Curtis milks you later on after the candles are out and the November sunrise is on the horizon.

Or, are you going all out? Send the kiddies screaming. Make the parents send letters to the HOA. Play your parts on Halloween night full of blood and guts and zombie shit. Spooky Jack o' Lanterns. And damn - your couple costumes are the shit! Beetlejuice and Lydia or Gomez & Morticia and you are all over each other between the trick or treaters.

Life Is Short So Make It Sweet Masterlist

You got the last cobweb stretched across the porch while the strobe lights dotting the front yard played a spider sitting on the side of the house. Curtis stayed in the yard, setting out the jack-o-lanterns and fitting them with the flickering tealights while you hopped off the porch to check out how the front was looking.

"Missing anything?" He questioned while coming up behind, wrapping his arm around you to pull you back into his chest. You pressed back into him, the warmth through his flannel heating your back and spiraling around to where his arms enclosed you close.

"It looks good to me, perfect for the little kiddos." You let your head fall against his shoulder, relaxing in his hold. "Sophia is going to love the spider."

Curtis chuckled and gave a slight nod in agreement. "Probably have a name for it by the time she leaves and ask Ella to bring it home."

"Ella will be thrilled."

"So thrilled." Curtis confirmed while you turned in his arms to face him, your fingers plucking down the flannel plaids buttons.

"You gotta get changed and I should go check on how the drama club is doing in the backyard on that haunted maze." You sighed wistfully, your gaze glancing up at him from under your lashes.

"I'm sure Timmy has it all under control." Curtis winked while taking your hand and pulling you up the steps, back inside the house, you followed along behind, biting your lip when you caught sight of the couch, already moved up near the tv. Distinct memories making your face heat up. "Hey you still got those fangs?"

Heat spiraled, your gut tightening, and your pulse racing. "Part of my costume tonight." You could feel the throb sinking that made you rub your thighs together. Recalling hands pushing through your hair and Curtis above you groaning about how good you felt around him. How you felt desired.

"Good." His tone husked as his blue eyes fell on you, swarming with his own memories, heated. "Cause I have plans for you when everyone leaves for the night." Heavily calloused hand rested at the back of your neck, easing you in till your mouth was covered with his, making you spiral with desire and lust.

"Hey guys, you in here?" Timmy called from the hallway leading to the garage. "We're almost all set, but we need help with the fog machine." Timmy poked his head around the corner to see Curtis and You still embraced but having broken the kiss.

"Sure, will be right out." Curtis offered and while Timmy ducked back out, he nipped another kiss to your now swollen lips. "FInish this later?"

"Yeah." You blinked up at him, pulling yourself back. "We have a tradition to end the night after all." You grinned. "Im gonna finish getting ready, your costume is on the bed waiting."

"Be up soon for it." His hand tapped your ass before he strode outside, hollering for the students to hurry up as people would be showing up any minute.

A/N- front of the house be for the kid's trick or treating, and the backyard is so her drama club students can put on a haunted maze and let them raise some money for their club funds. Curtis is pretty generous when it makes his girl so happy.

And they will be doing a repeat of last Halloween's sexy times.

[vidma-kazhe]

russians enjoy playing the victim while taking pages straight from the abuser's text book.

"oooh but we gave you everything you stupid hohols and bulbashes (slurs for Ukrainians and Belarusians) and yet you refuse to speak with us in our language, how dare you" - except that russians took everything, killing Ukrainian, and Belarusian poets, writers and any creators who could preserve authentic culture. There was a time, when speaking Ukrainian was considered shameful in Ukraine ("what are you, an illiterate country bumpkin? Speak normally!"). And the moment Ukraine started reclaiming her native language and popularizing it, russia treated it like a personal attack. Also, so far, many so-called russian Lithuanians or Latvians don't know a word in Lithuanian or Latvian despite having lived in these countries for decades. They just expected everyone to talk to them in russian.

"we built plants and fabrics for you and this is how you paid us back!" - which is a literal lie, every plant and fabric built in Ukraine, Belarus, Lithuania, Latvia was meant to serve russia. russia literally drained resources from every other occupied country to send a person to space before Americans. That intense effort and pressure for a stupid dick measuring contest. This is also why russia hasn't had any signifcant developments in its space industry -- it can no longer ride on the backs of others to do so.

"we paid your debts and you never thanked us!" - which too is a lie since russia agreed to pay the entire Soviet's debt in exchange for each country's assets remained after Soviet Union ceased to exist, but never disclosed the exact amount it paid and what kind of assets it was entitled to. Which was shady as fuck and russia kept playing the victim when called out on it.

"we saved you in WW2 and you forgot it!" - except that russia fueled the WW2 by allying with Nazi Germany, providing it with supplies, sending runaway Jews back to Hitler, and assisting Germany in conquering Poland. Ukrainains and Belarusians as well as the Eastern Europe paid the price for russia's flirting with nazis because its Ukraine and Belarus that got occupied by Nazi Germans. russia barely saw the horrors of war. Our grandfathers fought to protect moscow while their cities were under the Nazi's thumb.

And if you think that's bad, you should have heard how russians speak of non-white members of former Soviet Union: people of Kazakhstan, Tadzjikistan, Uzbekistan. Basically, after Soviet was no more, russians got violently forced out from Central Asia by the local people - and russians still bemoan this exodus in the most racist way possible. Basically, they say "We brought culture to these illiterate savages who lived in huts, we taught them how to read, thy were so stupid the couldn't do anything without us - and they dared to kick us out?!".

I'm not even exaggerating, this is exactly how they treat non-Slavic, non-white ethnicites. You can only imagine what kind of "brotherly love" and "equality" Buryats, Yakuts, and other native ethnicities in russia are going through.

I also find it hilarious that on "soviet siblings" art from russians, russia is always in the centre of attention, russia is always a victim. This kind of art already tells me enough about such people's education level.

[theconstitutionisgayculture]

>It seems to be mostly large groups of younger gays who are shallow and bitchy

I'm a Brit country bumpkin in the "gotta drive 40 miles to find a nightclub" kind of sense, so there's not a lot of fellow gay people out here. But the ones that are here are generally decent people who just get on with things. The last time I went into the nearby larger town to go out drinking with a couple of mates, it made me uncomfortable at just how rude some of the younger gays were. I just turned 30 so I'm considered ancient, I know. But I don't know, it feels like there's a lack of integrity and a lot of spitefulness in the younger members of the "community".

Yep. They get off on being the hot popular high school girl and never realize that someday they're going to be over thirty and the type of people they used to be will treat them the same they treated others. Everyone should just stay away from the club and gay bar scene, imo. If you want to drink, find a local pub with decent beer and go there. If you want to party, invite some friends over to your house. If you want to hook up, use an app. Large gatherings of young gays seem to be the most bitter and spiteful places on Earth.

[ilyamatic]

Echoes: In Another Life

Hey y'all! I'm bouncing around @arcana-echoes to bring you a glimpse into these Ayitians' alternate lives:

Tiny hands dug into the rich soil. It was days like this that Andrico remembers that he could be happy. It was hard otherwise. Sure he was a hero, damn near a national treasure but the people’s adoration did little to quell the unrest in his heart. Almost 13 years after the war the smell of blood still lingered wherever he went. His fallen men still visited in his dreams, angry and rotting. He should have done more. He could have done more. If he wanted to win so badly he should have sacrificed himself. Instead he led his men to slaughter while he lived the cushy life. No matter how tormented he lived it, how unfulfilled. A life full of politics and policy when his soul craved sweat and soil.

But out there in his garden that didn’t matter.  All that mattered there was him, his little Fabienne, and the sunshine. Her wide gapped-toothed smile could chase away his most stubborn demons. It was a shame that she could never stay.

“Are you ready to clean up for lunch Fabi?” He asked as he pet her hair.

The little girl began to pout. “But Papa, you promised me we would plant all the flowers today!”

“Your mother would be very cross if I let you go hungry.”

Not that she wouldn’t find something else to be cross about, he thought bitterly.

“You don’t usually stop for anything when you’re in the garden,” Fabienne argued as she crossed her arms. 

“Haven’t you heard Fabi? Se yon neg andeyo mwe ye!”

“Maman says that you are a country bumpkin.”

Andrico could feel his eyebrow twitch.

“Good thing she found a nice city boy to marry, hm?”

Fabienne made no comment as she stuck her hands back into the dirt. He should press harder, be a little more authoritative. But everyone, including the girl in question, knew that Fabienne had him wrapped around her little finger. There was no point in fighting it. All she had to do was look up at him with those coffee black eyes, eyes that were so like her mother’s, and he was a goner. Moreover, he wanted to pretend just a little longer. He didn’t want to be General El-Saieh. He didn’t want the nightmares, or the panic attacks, or the failed marriage, or the strained relationships with everyone around him. He wanted the sweat and soil and for his little daughter to remember her papa as a man who loved the earth and the people on it. Who kissed booboos and chased away monsters and sang her to sleep on the nights she stayed with him. So Andrico kissed the top of her head and handed her another bulb.

Lunch could wait a moment or two. 

She should head left. There is nothing stopping her from going left. It wasn’t like there was anything worth staying here for. She was tired. Tired of the expectations, the lessons, the everything. She should leave her teacher behind, go left, and see where life takes her.

Jasna took a few steps and stopped. She could go left.

But what about my family?

Could she live with not seeing them again for years? Possibly ever?

The path she was on was irritating at best, stifling at it’s worse. But it was sure. Jasna knew where she was going, where she would end up. The idea of starting over was tempting. All her life all she ever wanted was the option to choose. And there it was, presenting itself as a caravan heading to a city called Vesuvia.

She could go left.

“Jasna,” her tutor Frantz called out from their wagon. “Are you ready to go?”

“Yeah,” she answered. “Just needed to stretch my legs.”

With that she turned on her heels and headed right.

Jai, Andrés, and Marie-Carmel under the cut

They watched as the shoreline got smaller. The Augustine Regime had fallen Their uncle was dead, beheaded by a ‘young upstart who just learned to wipe his own ass.’ Jai felt no sympathy, no remorse. They did not bat an eyelash as their family uprooted themselves in the middle of the night, fleeing onto a boat towards hopefully friendlier lands.

It’s what they deserved really. Their uncle for being an absolute tyrant, their parents complicit to the horrors, and them… and them for their silence. But not any longer. No, they refused to hold their tongue ever again.

They could hear light footsteps come up behind them. Their mother called out a name that never fit, never belonged to them. They squared their shoulders.

“Jai,” they called back.

They could feel their mother’s confusion.

“What?”

“My name is Jai,” they continued. “That person you’re looking for is not here. My name is Jai, I go by they, and you will address me as such.”

Their mother walked up and stood next to them. From the corner of their eye Jai could see their mother’s exasperation, anger, and grief.

“Must you do this now?” She practically spat.

“Yes. If not now, then when?”

They could feel her eyes bore into the side of their face.

“I have lost my home,” her mother said quietly. “ I have lost my home, my friends, and my country. Must I lose my daughter too?”

Jai could feel giggles and tears war in their gut. They could argue how their mother has not lost her child at all, that they were there, it was just that she had refused to see them for who they were. Jai could laugh in her face because all that her mother mourned was gained on the backs of a suffering nation. Instead they turned to look her in the eye and parroted her words from years ago.

“You cannot lose something you never had, cheri.”

The High Priestess bathed the infant in a tub full of hibiscus petals and fragrant oils. Blessing babies was meant for the acolytes, a routine job regarded beneath her station. However, Andrés could hardly find it in herself to give two shits.

As the human embodiment of the All Mothers, was she not to embody them? Was she not to walk in humility and kindness? To treat everyone with respect? If the All Mothers hadn’t hidden their spirits away in their realm Andrés would find the sisters that came before her and give them a tongue lashing. As if any task at the temple was beneath her. As she would ever pass up giving out The Mothers love. Idiots, the whole lot of them. But those were worries for another day.

Andrés gently wrapped the squirming baby in a soft linen cloth and handed them back to their parents. 

“Go, my children. The love and the light of your Mothers will see you through to the end of your days.”

Teary eyes looked up to her gratefully. Often she wondered what people saw when they looked at her. Did they see a living goddess? Did they see power? Did they see The Divine Feminine in her?

Or did they see her, Andrés? A young woman thrust into adulthood too soon? Someone without all the answers but who tries her best for everyone? Do they see her regret?

“High Priestess,” an acolyte called from the doorway of the shrine. “The next family is ready.”

Andrés nodded as the previous family left, praises to the All Mothers and their Chosen Daughter heavy on their lips. She stood tall as the next family walked in, took their tiny baby in her arms with confidence, and began her blessings. In the presence of her children, there was no room for doubt.

“I love you,” he said as he pressed a kiss to her cheek. Marie-Carmel smiled lightly, enjoying the sun and the fresh air. She rested her head against her husband’s shoulder. It was a beautiful summer day. Her dear husband decided it would be the perfect day for a carriage ride. It was nice. It was romantic. She could not stop the words from spilling out. 

“I love you too,” she said quietly and today it felt like she meant it.

It was terrible, she knew. Martine was not a bad man, not by a long shot. He was kind, generous, and smart. He was what anyone would want in a spouse. It was what she wanted in a spouse. And yet.

She does her best not to think of the loves of her past, the gentle Claudine or the funny Francois. They were all kind, generous, and smart but Mimi always found them lacking. And now Marie-Carmel was there, married to a man her Mimi adored but she found herself loving only on occasion.

Marie-Carmel does her best to not think of the notice on the community board.

Best Divorce Lawyer in Town!

Jean-Jacques Deroleaux Esq.

5555 Gardenia Street, Port Joyeux

Get your appointment today!

Her ‘friends’, all people of high society as her Mimi intended, were properly scandalized. She played the part, titterting behind an open fan at the depravity of it all but in her heart she wondered.

Her Mimi would be so disappointed! She would lose her friends! And Martine, poor sweet Martine. Oh he would be so heartbroken!

And yet.

Marie-Carmel rested her head on her husband’s shoulder, the flyer burning a hole in her dress all the while.

[turned-the-page]

The Threat

I see people reacting to what Tessa said in that hive article today re the only connection her and Scott have is on the ice. The reaction is anticipated hurt and fear. I also see some of the bloggers trying to soothe and explain away some of the emotional "sting" out of what Tessa said.

The thing is life is not static. As a matter of fact, the only constant in life is that change will occur. Tessa and Scott are two individual young people who are finally growing into who they want to be. For 21 years they had a common goal which melded them into the virtuemoir unit. Now that goal has changed and they are looking more and more like Scott Moir the individual and Tessa Virtue the individual and less and less like virtuemoir the blended unit. Not only is this fine, it's also how life works. This is what people growing up looks like. 21 years is a very long time to be doing the very same thing over and over. One must expect change and progress in different directions.

The fandom has accused them of co'dependency. Well, they appear to be growing out of that too, dont they.

I'm honestly not throwing shade here. While I appreciate that the fandom want to see them skating for a long time, they can certainly do that professionally and still live their separate lives. So it would seem that the fans' visceral "hurt, fear, soothe" reaction to what tessa said has less to do with Tessa and Scott not skating together and more to do with the existence the fandom itself.

The fandom was formed and exists because of the virtuemoir blended unit. If (and it does seem that way), Tessa and Scott are evolving out of the virtuemoir brand and into their individual lives (which is perfectly natural), then possibly without realizing it and certainly on a subconscious level, the fandom is reacting to the possibility of its own demise. If its "raison d'etre", virtuemoir as a unit, no longer exist, then the fandom itself ceases to exist as the virtuemoir fandom.

People are in the fandom for a lot of their own reasons and the fandom has taken on a life of it's own, quite separate from supposedly supporting tessa and Scott. I say supposedly because of the way they have been treated in recent months, If "virtuemoir" is becoming Virtue seamlessly without Moir, except occasionally Virtue and Moir may skate together professionally, then the virtuemoir fandom ceases to exist. The people here can no longer say they are the virtuemoir fandom because there is no more virtuemoir, only virtue and moir living their individual lives and skating occasionally. As I said things do seem to be heading that way. And it's a natural thing to happen. Its called personal growth. I dont mind at all. Since they chose not to belong to each other they must do the next most logical thing.

One of the things this fandom is very bad at, is listening to Tessa and Scott. Scott said he was a simple guy. Simple does not mean country bumpkin; it means down to earth. Tessa said she's going to use the platform she worked so hard for. Celebrity. Two very different outlooks on life. They've also said they're very different people so many times. Tessa wants the spotlight, Scott does not. He knows what he's comfortable with, he knows what is meaningful to him, and just as tessa is pursuing what is meaningful to her in the public eye, so too scott is pursuing what is meaningful to him out of the public eye. I don't see Patrick Chan making a whole bunch of noise on social media about what he's doing.

Fandom, try to listen to what Scott and tessa says about their lives. Try to hear their truth above the noise of your self interest for them. Don't destroy your future enjoyment of Moir and Virtue, professional skaters the way you destroyed virtuemoir 2018-2019.

You did not listen to them, you did not believe them when they said they were not a couple, so you left no room for reality, then you lashed out at them for how you were feeling.

Leave room for reality going forward. Tessa said what she said. Just believe her and see how things unfold. You may lose virtuemoir but I'm pretty certain, if it mets your needs, or suit your purpose or interest , you could support Moir individually, or Virtue individually or Moir and Virtue occasionally, even when you don't have virtuemoir continually.