#c: mason wood

[futurelabs]

After unpacking all her stuff, Isabella paid her parents a visit!

[nursegracecreates]

Basically this blogs Jeff 😂. We shot him guys, and dammit if he didn't react like 😍😍🥹🥹🥹

my favorite genre of fictional character is like "i am terrifying to almost everyone, i'm very good at killing, i can endure anything, i've become exceptionally good at playing into my reputation, and if you try to give me positive social interaction i will react with confusion and cower in a corner like an abused animal. and i may try to shoot you. but there is also a chance i may imprint on you like a feral dog receiving its first loving touch! good luck."

[afeelgoodblog]

Best News of Last Week - July 3, 2023

🐕 - This dog is 'disc'-overing hidden treasures! Get ready for the 'paws'-itively successful fundraiser, Daisy's Discs!

1. Most unionized US rail workers now have new sick leave

More than 60% of U.S. unionized railroad workers at major railroads are now covered by new sick leave agreements, a trade group said Monday.

Last year railroads came under fire for not agreeing to paid sick leave during labor negotiations.

2. Missing teen found after being lost in the wilderness for 50 hours

Esther Wang, 16, had been hiking with three other people through the Maple Ridge park on Tuesday.

The group made it to Steve’s lookout around 2:45 p.m. that day.However, when they headed back down to the campsite, after about 15 minutes of hiking, the group leader realized Wang was missing. They returned to the lookout to look for Wang but couldn’t find her. The leader headed to the trail entrance to notify a park ranger and police.

“Esther Wang has been located. She’s healthy, she is happy and she’s with family.”

3. A dog has retrieved 155 discs from woods. They’ll be on sale soon, with proceeds going to the park in West Virginia where they were found

Meet Daisy, the yellow Labrador retriever with a unique talent for finding lost Frisbee golf discs at Grand Vue Park in West Virginia. Four years ago, while on a walk with her owner Kelly Mason, Daisy discovered a disc in the woods and proudly brought it back. Since then, Daisy's obsession with finding stray discs has grown, and she has collected an impressive cache of 155 discs.

Mason and park officials have now come up with a plan to return the discs to their owners if they are labeled, and any unclaimed discs will be sold as a fundraiser to support the park's disc golf courses. Daisy's Discs is expected to be a success, with many excited about the possibility of recovering their lost discs thanks to Daisy's remarkable skills.

4. Australian earless dragon last seen in 1969 rediscovered in secret location

A tiny earless dragon feared to be extinct in the wild has been sighted for the first time in more than 50 years – at a location that is being kept secret to help preservation efforts.

The Victorian grassland earless dragon, Tympanocryptis pinguicolla, has now been rediscovered in the state, according to a joint statement issued by the Victorian and federal Labor governments on Sunday.

5. Detroit is going to power 100% of its municipal buildings with solar

All of Detroit’s municipal buildings are going to be powered by neighborhood solar as part of the city’s efforts to combat climate change – check out the city’s cool grassroots plan. Meet Detroit Rock Solar City.

The city has determined that it’s going to need around 250 acres of solar panels in order to achieve 100% solar power for its municipal buildings.

6. Canada Officially Bans Cosmetic Testing on Animals

The fight for cruelty-free beauty in Canada has seen a significant breakthrough as the Canadian government legislates a full ban on cosmetic animal testing and trade, marking a victory for Animal rights advocates and eco-conscious consumers.

This landmark decision is part of the Budget Implementation Act (Bill C-47), not only prohibiting cosmetic animal testing but also putting an end to the sale of cosmetics that use new animal testing data for safety substantiation.

7. Belize certified malaria-free by WHO

The World Health Organization (WHO) has certified Belize as malaria-free, following the country’s over 70 years of continued efforts to stamp out the disease.

“WHO congratulates the people and government of Belize and their network of global and local partners for this achievement”, said Dr Tedros Adhanom Ghebreyesus, WHO Director-General. “Belize is another example of how, with the right tools and the right approach, we can dream of a malaria-free future.”

----

That's it for this week :)

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Also don’t forget to reblog.

[friendswithclay]

“Masons and townsmen climbing ladders and straddling the projecting palm-wood toron in order to apply a fresh layer of mud plaster to the walls of the mosque.” Djennè Mali ; c.2005

Ph by: Trevor Marchand

From: “The Djenné Mosque: World Heritage and Social Renewal in a West African Town” by Trevor H. J. Marchand

[pangeasoftware]

one thing living in the middle of the woods deprives you of is the ability to buy a $13 drink that has a whole scoop of ice cream in it & a bunch of boba & some wafer cookies sticking out of it and it comes in a branded mason jar for the place (something like "boba hype" or osmething like that) & a big straw and a lump of cotton candy on the top & you take two drinks of it and then throw it away b/c you feel your pancreas coughing trying 2 make enough insulin & it won't keep well in the fridge anyway

[qwimblenorrisstan]

DriftWood Masterlist

Series Summary: After finding you in an abandoned town 10 miles down the road from the house Sevati, Felix, Marshall, Woods, Case and Adler are staying in, she hides you away, not knowing how the rest of the team would react. However, as tensions grow higher and missions become increasingly dangerous, you can’t stay hidden forever.

Characters: Sevati Dumas, Felix Neumann, Frank Woods, Russel Adler, Troy Marshall, William “Case”Calderon, David Mason, Alex Mason, more to come… (all platonic relationships)

System:

DriftWood is a “choose your own adventure” style writing, where you will be shown images of in-game locations and be given options to choose. Choosing these options can lead to different “endings” or interactions with different characters.

Different icons next to choices mean different things.

Example—>

The arrow icon means that by choosing this option you are moving ahead to the next “main chapter” and skipping all other options. If you do this, I advise sticking with your decision in order to lessen confusion.

Example

No icon means that this is simply a choice to branch off of, it is not going ahead to the main story. This can lead to deaths (endings), consequences, achievements, gaining something in your inventory, etc.

Example: {ACHIEVEMENT UNLOCKED:_____}

Certain actions will make you unlock “achievements” which is what makes each ending different. The more achievements you can/do unlock, some choices will require certain achievements to access in order for the story to make sense. The achievements required will be listed for future choices.

If you have already made a choice, then to prevent confusion I advise not going back and getting an achievement just because you want to.

Inventory System:

Throughout the game, certain choices may give you certain things, or you may choose to collect things throughout the story. Your “inventory” doesn’t have any limits and you can carry whatever you want, but there can be consequences for being caught with some items. Be mindful of what you have.

More may be added to the list as the story progresses.

If you see something that looks interactable, or you want a closeup picture of it or maybe have it added into the story, just shoot me an ask or DM me and I’ll probably add it if it isn’t too difficult. (This goes for concepts as well, if something doesn’t take up a huge amount of time, I might add it in for fun like spin-offs, etc)

There will be BO6 Campaign spoilers eventually, as the story begins from Sevati’s perspective of the beginning of the “Hunting Season” mission. Everything I make into my story might not be perfectly canon, but I’ll try to stick to it.

However, you do not have to play the games to understand. All lore will be explained in the story, as the reader starts of from a perspective of not knowing anything. You can read this even if you just interact with the fandom, it should mostly make sense.

Most importantly have fun!! I’m just experimenting with this because I think it would be fun to make, be sure to give me feedback if you want<3

Masterlist

Main Chapter 1: Hidden

Branch: Investigate your Surroundings

Branch: Listen to the Tape

Branch: Go through the door on your left

Branch: Read the folder

Branch: Read the paper on the clipboard.

Branch: Take the wrench

Branch: Fix the Boiler

Branch: Option A

Branch: Option B

Branch: Option C

Branch: Try to pry the door open

Branch: Use the wrench

Branch: Don’t use the wrench

Main Chapter 2: Desperation

Branch: Hide behind the boiler

Branch: Stay downstairs

Branch: Hide in the small area under the stairs

[hometoursandotherstuff]

WTH House has been removed from the market. Built in 1932 in Westmont, Illinois, it's been renovated, but whoever did the reno must've been on shrooms at the time. 4bds, 4ba, and they're asking $849,900, which is probably why it's been taken off the market, b/c no one would pay that much for it, and it can't possibly pass a home inspection. Take a look.

Weird entrance. I don't even know if the door clears that first step, but there's this ersatz elevated platform w/a small door and angled stairs so you can display a lovely collection of large vases. (Also note the off-center pot light shining brightly.) That abstract painting is a prophesy of things to come.

The platform continues on around to the side entrance. Why do they need that thing at all? Unusual features: Light fixtures under the window sills and another one under the stair railing.

I don't know if this is the family room or main living room, but it's normal.

Observe the obstacles in the hall to get to the kitchen steps. The frame around the windows doesn't look right.

You can see it better from here. They made an elaborate kitchen entrance, there's some room off the stairs, maybe a toilet, and the fridge is too close to the edge.

Double doors in the dining area open to a bedroom.

Floor tile on the bathroom walls.

By the wild wood grain on the door to the primary suite, it looks like they used plywood to make the doors. There's a simple homemade kitchenette behind the door.

PeeWee's Playhouse doorway to the en-suite shows the shower in full view. (Nope.)

The mirror continues the theme of the ceiling angles and there's a long window seat.

Okay, this deck off the primary bedroom is nice.

This is another large bedroom.

These angle-lovin' folks must've had all the mirrors cut to order.

A monolithic column with niches stands in the middle of this bedroom.

The best part is the basement, though, where there's a castle-like feel. Love the walls and the fireplace. I must say that the mason they hired was superior to the carpenter.

This bath is nice and carries through with the castle theme.

The levels and angles continue on the exterior of the home.

Nice big yard. The house is on a .49 acre lot.

to

[aroace-polyshow]

ok here’s my hammer tier list. my thoughts under the read more

ball peen: s tier. funny name. made me laugh really hard. what more do you need. ok actual description its used for metal working in the peening (hehe) process (surface hardening through impact). its got a rounded head on one side and the other side has a flat side thats sometimes used for chiseling or striking punches (making a hole through a hard thing). but it is in s tier bc of the name.

___ hammer or as i dub it maraca hammer: s tier. maraca hammer. not all of them have the loose steel shot inside tho some are just made of a different material (rubber or durable plastic) that helps like. dampen the force of a hit so it doesn’t bounce back as much. its good for working in tight spaces + preventing accidental damage. would be a tier but the fact theres the maraca version with the beads inside (that serve the purpose of like spreading out the energy of the force of the hit) that you can hear gives it s tier to me

framing hammer: b tier. fine hammer. a type of claw hammer its got like a little bumpy grid on the head that helps it keep a grip while its hitting but it also leaves a mark on the wood it hits. the woods is usually a part of the frame of the structure (as said in the name)and theres a different type (a finishing hammer) to make wood that goes on the outside look nicer so it doesn’t really matter. gets the job done solid hammer

claw hammer: a tier. like the most basic hammer. the kind of hammer you think of when you think of a hammer (unless you think of a mallet). used for wood working mostly bc its not suited for metal stuff, but its got other general uses. a classic. where would we be without you claw hammer

( ‼️ animal death mention ‼️) cow hammer: e tier. can’t find a picture. used for animal slaughter. fallen out of use bc of animal welfare objections. probably kind of cruel way to do that. also just seems really inefficient. makes me sad.

drilling hammer/lump hammer: b tier. a smaller kind of sledgehammer. more light weight with a smaller handle. useful in light demolition work or like cutting stuff with a chisel. also used in scouts stuff!! for like tent stakes and similar things.

gavel: s tier. i think we all know what a gavel is. judges use in it court its the little hammer they bang for stuff. s tier bc i’d have a lot of fun with it if i had it

geologist’s hammer: a tier. its in the name, geologists used it to open up specimens and shit.finds pretty rocks so thats why its a tier. wooo

warrington hammer: s tier. its a kind of cross peen hammer. giggling. fun name unlike the ball peen tho its used for wood working. thin side sets a nail flat side drives it in. can be used for other stuff like fixing a bent nail. more precise than a claw hammer

mallet: b tier. rubber roundish head. bunch of different kinds. didn’t feel like reading every single time since i’m already doing that for the hammers so. b tier

rock climbing hammer: a tier. the wiki page for this is very barren but not much explanation needed i think. its for rock climbing, specifically aid climbing, for putting in and taking out pitons and the like. useful for Not Falling and Dying. but also it looks like a plague doctor mask and its silly and i like it

sledgehammer: a tier. BIG HAMMER!!! also distributes force over a bigger area. but BIG HAMMER!!!!

soft faced hammer: b tier. like dead hammer its for not causing as much damage as normal hammers. but no maraca. no fun colors like it either.

spiking hammer/spiking maul: b tier. used for striking nails into the railroads. cool! idk i dont have a lot of feelings on it and i dont know how much more i can fit in a tier lmao

splitting maul: c tier. more of an ax than a hammer tbh. used for splitting wood.

stone mason’s hammer: b tier. one side has a little thinish part part and the other part is flat. can be used to cut bricks and stones and stuff and chisel without an actual chisel. also used by geologists!

upholstery hammer: b tier. its in the name. used for upholstery. often has a magnetic side for picking up tacks. has kinda been replaced by the staple gun though

hammer drill: c tier. more of a drill but behaves enough like a hammer for me to allow it i guess. im less interested in the mechanically powered ones ngl

jackhammer: a tier. very cool actually. combines a hammer and a chisel. not fun if its nearby bc its loud and annoying but cool if i’m just passing by. used to break up rock and concret and shit. brrrrrrrrrrrr

steam hammer: a tier. now that is a solid mechanical hammer i think. actually hammery. used for shaping forgings and driving piles.

trip hammer: S TIER. I LIED THIS ONE IS A GOOD MECHANICAL HAMMER. variety of uses like for processing grain in agriculture crushing metal ores in mining and in forges formaking iron into workable iron bars. old as fuck too. unfortunately replaced by the power hammer. 

power hammer: a tier. extremely similar to the steam hammer. replaced the trip hammer which makes me sad. but its still cool

nail gun: d tier. that is a gun.

staple gun: d tier. that is also a gun.

[alphabetbill]

Macabre [ HEMLOCK GROVE ] - chapter 1

" 𝐬𝐢𝐜𝐤 𝐨𝐟 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐨𝐰𝐧 𝐟𝐚𝐜𝐞, 𝐬𝐢𝐜𝐤 𝐨𝐟 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐬𝐤𝐢𝐧, 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐝����𝐫𝐤, 𝐡𝐞 𝐜𝐫𝐚𝐰𝐥𝐬 𝐡𝐢𝐦𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐟 𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐠- 𝐚 𝐛𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐩𝐨𝐞𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐧 𝐦𝐨𝐬𝐭 "

[ C I C A D A ] hosho mccreesh.

___________________________________________________________

~ description ~

A werewolf whose only skill is running from his fears, a half-upir with no idea of the true darkness lying inside of him, and a girl found alive in the woods months after her mysterious death.

Some secrets in Hemlock Grove should have just stayed buried. In a town that isn't so sleepy after all, monsters of all kinds are wide awake under the surface, crawling their way up.

~ warnings~

This story will contain mature and heavy themes that may involve potentially explicit content, gore and murder, talk of kidnapping and stalking victims, supernatural/paranormal/religious themes and trauma, any other themes not covered in the general description will probably be tagged here at the start of the chapters that other significant warnings apply to.

A list will be linked here upon completion and upload of each chapter:

Cicada and the Snake

Chapter 1 . Chapter 2 . Chapter 3 . Chapter 4 . Chapter 5 . Chapter 6 . Chapter 7 . Chapter 8 . Chapter 9 .

____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

c h a p t e r    o n e .

Peter Rumancek

<<>>

IT WAS WITH A HEAVY HEART SOMEWHERE INSIDE THAT Lance Evergreen would lay his daughter to finally rest, but not heavy enough.

On a muggy October evening, the man would stumble into his house, more of a trailer trash dwelling than anything, and hit the drinks as though he had never left them. Judith had been gone for months, and in his mind, seeing them lower her battered corpse into a hole in the ground where he would never see her again felt almost offensively anti-climactic. He had dreamt of the worst-case scenario over and over again, had imagined how it happened, when and why. How they would find her and what would be left of her.

By the time her body was found dumped in that ditch, in his head, Lance had already seen it all.

He had already mourned. He would never stop.

Peter went to visit him the day after the funeral.

He kicked his way through discarded beer cans and shattered bottles that spilled sticky ichor onto the bare particle board. He thought Uncle Vince was bad, given his lethal alcoholism that had eventually killed him, but this was just sad and Peter was just sad.

He knew Lance as well as he had known Vince, the two men having been close friends. Peter knew that Lance had an ex-wife, Judith's mother, who had shown up for the funeral and left promptly afterwards. Peter hadn't known her all that well from the couple of times he met the woman when he was little, but he had seen the way she clung to her cigarette and never said a word to anyone at the funeral. She used to be a local, but neither his uncle or Lance had brought it up so he had never had a reason to ask why she left. They also had a son who died.

Peter had also known Judith, which only made his heart squeeze more to think about it. He had fond memories of throwing worms at each other, collecting snails as kids, and gathering around Nicolae Rumancek to observe the fairy he had caught in a mason jar. He remembered so clearly how Jude was so adamant that it was in fact not a fairy, but a firefly, and that Peter's grandfather ought to let it go. Now his grandfather was gone, the girl was gone, and all he had left were faded recollections to remember it all by.

The man was already out cold by the time he reached the couch, which had been torn up by a dog- he could tell from the scent. It must have died not too long ago, because the food bowl still sat in the corner of the kitchen, flies buzzing around it. Peter took it upon himself to dispatch the old food with a hollow feeling in his chest and returned to the living room.

It was difficult to see how much this man had changed. Peter had fond memories of Lance giving him shoulder rides and driving around in his car. He remembered his stories, many of which he and Vince made up, and remembered how life-like and exciting he had been. Now all that was left was a husk of the soul of a man- a man with a failed marriage, two dead kids and one dead best friend. Alone in the world to drink and then die.

Peter didn't know what to do to fix his uncle's friend. He didn't know how to help his sad, hulking body off the couch when he had no interest in learning how to move. He didn't know how to console a father whose daughter was gone. But he did know that he wanted to be there for him, and that he wanted to help.

So, he helped. All while the man had drank himself into a stupor, the boy found his way to the kitchen and to the garbage bags beneath the rusted sink with the constant drip. He put the bottles, the cans, the wrappers, and all of the litter that his eye could see into the bag and hauled that bag out to the trash. He came back. He repeated the process.

It should not have been Peter's job to clean up this mess, but for once he didn't mind doing it. It felt almost therapeutic to cleanse the trailer of the mess and the alcohol and the despair he wished Uncle Vince had the chance to. The last thing he did was pry the bottle from his hand and set it away on the kitchen table. 

Then Lance muttered in his sleep. Something something not worth it anymore.

When Peter came home later, he hugged his mother. He loved Lynda and she loved him, but they had never been a family for too much sentimentalism. Tonight was different. He needed that hug. He couldn't imagine what it would be like to never hug her again.

The following day at school felt like walking through a land of zombies. Peter was new to town, having arrived a couple of weeks prior to Judith Evergreen's funeral. He didn't know whether or not it was because of that, that everyone here seemed so lifeless and flat. He didn't think so, because he only found one or two funeral flyers dangling from the noticeboards, all of which had been trampled on or discarded on the floor.

It was the end of the day and Peter was in the middle of picking up one of the memorial notices for her when Roman Godfrey spoke to him for the first time.

"So you knew her," he said. A statement, not a question. His eyes– those eyes– tore right through the flesh and into his soul.

Peter knew at once that the boy was upir. He could sense it from a mile away, from the very first time he had glanced in the rich boy's direction on his first day at school. He could sense it like a serpent shifting beneath Roman's skin in the dark.

Roman was impossibly tall for the age of seventeen and had a face that had been morbidly carved by the holiest of angels. His hair was brown and loose, unlike his crisp blazer or tucked-in shirt and trousers. Peter wondered if the boy could smell his blood.

"Yeah. When I was a kid" he replied, anything to erase the unbearable cloud of tension that was the upir standing behind him.

"Mm. It's weird. I knew her too," Roman said. His voice didn't sound sympathetic, or if it did, it fronted as disjointed and monotone. "You want a lift home?"

It was raining and Peter had no interest in walking until he became a soggy wet dog. So he accepted. 

The car was a vintage cherry red Jaguar, which Roman explained had belonged to his father. Peter wasn't sure what he was meant to do with this information but nonetheless continued to listen. The ride was relatively quiet and the radio hummed in the stretches of silence between admittedly one sided conversations. 

"You're new in town," Roman said, making small talk.

"Are you a Gypsy?" he asked, but surprisingly not in that sneering way most other folk did.

"People at school say you're a werewolf. Is it true?" he questioned, as if Peter hadn't heard the rumours already, much like a subtle interrogation.

All of those things were correct, but Peter scooted around the last question by declaring that he was just an obscenely hairy teenager. 

The car stopped on the side of the road near a slope that rolled down into a clearing, pulling up just in front of a rusted mailbox. 

"You're related to Vince," Roman evaluated, seeming to recognize the dwelling. "He used to work for my mom at one point."

Peter had not known about that, and briefly found himself wondering what exactly his uncle had been doing with Olivia Godfrey. A strange, unnerving woman indeed.

As he thanked the rich boy and got out of the car, retrieving the mailbox, a car drove by.

Peter jolted. 

In the seconds it had taken for the other vehicle to pass, a girl had appeared sitting in the passenger seat of Roman's car, where Peter had only been sitting seconds ago. In the small window of time he caught a glimpse of her, he saw black and blue and gray skin and teary, blood-filled eyes.

He saw Judith Evergreen, and then she disappeared.

"Something wrong?" Roman asked, viridian eyes narrowing. 

After taking a moment to settle himself, unconvincingly the werewolf shook his head. The Upir left, but not without staring at Peter for a little longer than what was considered a normal duration of time to stare at someone. 

He descended the old wooden staircase and into the clearing by the river where his home, previously Vince's, sat overlooking the water. He entered, greeting his mother, and opened the fridge to pop open a beer. 

"So what's up with the Godfreys?" he asked, swigging from the bottle as he went over to plunge into the couch, stretching lazily to reach the remote and flicking on the TV.

"Bad business," Lynda said as she sipped on her cup of tea, already seated on the couch. "You should steer clear of them."

"The boy, Roman. He's an upir. I don't think he knows it himself," he sighed. All he could think about was the sinking feeling he got when he was near him, the feeling of drowning slowly, or being buried alive beneath the burning weight of his stare alone. Despite this, Peter couldn't deny his nagging intrigue. Call it morbid curiosity.

"He dropped you home?"

"He offered. It was raining."

Lynda said nothing in response, but Peter knew what she would have said. 

Be careful with him.

That night Peter sat down on the edge of his bed and found himself staring through his window and out into the woods. In those woods, he thought he saw a girl.

____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

boring but we're getting there i swear also oh my god i'm actually posting for once????

anyways this is also on wattpad and chapter two will be out very soon :) i'll shut my mouth now.

[blooming-tides]

Introducing... B. Field, the Worker at the Redwood Ranch and Shop

"Well, well, well... Look at what the cat dragged in. And here I had thought you've up and left us." -B. Field

~~~ Introducing the Bachelors and Bachelorettes of Flora Coast

N. Wood || S. Fox || R. Green || C. Meadow || T. Hill || B. Field (you are here) || P. Steel || L. Waters

Name: Blake/Bailey Field Gender: Gender-Selectable (Male or Female) Age: 25 years old Birthday: January 7 (Capricorn) Status: Life-Long Resident MBTI: ESTP Height: Blake is 5'10 (178 cm). Bailey is 5'8 (173 cm). Skin Color: Tanned with beauty marks Hair Details: Straight-wavy and Bleached Blonde, but naturally is light brown. Blake's hair is ear-length. Bailey's hair is about mid-back length. Eye Color: Blue Workplace: The Redwood Ranch and Shop (East Flora Coast) Home: The Redwood Ranch and Shop (East Flora Coast) Family: Ruby Field (mother, 48), Mason Field (father, 48), Naomi Field (younger sister, 9) Bio: B is the oldest child of Ruby and Mason Field, the owners of the Redwood Ranch and Shop. They are a life-long resident of Flora Coast and grew up with MC. As children, they would annoy, tease, and pester MC. They have just returned home after a few years away. While it seems like their impulsiveness and brashness has decreased with age, their penchant for being a thorn in MC's side has not.

B works at the Redwood Ranch and Shop as an all-around worker. While they mainly handle the register, they also help out with restocking items or caring for the ranch animals. They also help out their younger sister, Naomi, when she's in the store.

Associated In-Game Personality Traits: Outgoing, Laid-Back, Sarcastic, Talkative, Realist, Business Savvy

[digenerate-trash]

Yan archetypes for "yan dol"

(subject to change. let me know if you think something is like. durasticly off)

School crew: 

Whitney - possessive, violent, impulsive

Robin - possessive, manipulative, careful

Kylar - possessive, manipulative, impulsive, violent, delusional

C!Syd - paranoid, manipulative, impulsive

P!Syd  - paranoid, honest, repressed

Inner city freaks: 

Bailey - possessive, violent, manipulative, paranoid

Leighton - impulsive, manipulative

Avery - possessive, violent (high rage), manipulative, paranoid

Quinn - manipulative, paranoid

Harper - harper <3

Shady edge of towners:

Briar - violent, manipulative, paranoid, repressed

Mickey - paranoid, repressed

Landry - paranoid, honest, repressed

Idk man they don't have a category: 

Jordan - possessive, delusional, repressed

Charlie - possessive, repressed

Darryl - honest, paranoid

Sam - honest, repressed

Morgan - possessive, manipulative

Niki - honest, repressed

Farm boys:

Remy - possessive, violent, manipulative, paranoid

Wren - impulsive, manipulative, paranoid

Alex - possessive, delusional

Teachers: 

Sirris - possessive, paranoid

River - possessive, honest

Doren - icky.

Winter - manipulative, violent, paranoid

Mason - impulsive, honest, repressed

Woods: 

Gwylan - honest, repressed

Ivory Wraith - possessive, violent, impulsive, manipulative

Eden - possessive, violent, paranoid

Black Wolf - possessive, impulsive

Great Hawk - possessive, delusional, honest

[a-gil-rebel]

People have been leaving some really nice comments on my Reverse Portal AU X C!GF fic "Wrong Twin" on AO3, so I wanted to share some of my favorite scenes I wrote in chapter 1!

"Mabel!" Dipper scolded, "Sorry Mason, I didn't mean to." Mason just laughed, waving away puffs of flour and rolling up his left sleeve to get the flour away from his hands.

"No worries, I can change later." Dipper stared at his arm, and couldn't help but blurt out.

"Is that the telescopium constellation??" Mason jumped a bit before looking down at his arm and laughing.

"Oh right- yeah, I started getting more constellations appearing when I hit puberty, so that might be something you can look forward to. Theyre all down my left arm for now, though I'm sure more will show up later."

"That's so cool!" Dipper flapped his hands and Mason laughed.

"Yeah, scared the hell out of our parents at first but, just more Pines Family weirdness. Honestly, I'm glad I got to keep the Big Dipper in the end, I guess facial reconstruction on a child is pricier than just removing the extra fingers."

Mason jumped at crash that followed, everyone turning quickly to Ford, who had the remains of a coffee mug at his feet.

"Wh...what did you just say?"

Mason blinked, and even Mabel looked confused. "The... wait, were you two born without polydactyl hands?" He asked Dipper, who was looking at him like he grew and extra head.

"I mean, in our family Ford is the only one with six fingers." Mason shook his head a bit in disbelief.

"Thats.... huh. I mean it is a dominant trait but I'm not too surprised you don't have it."

"What do you mean, removing them?" Ford almost demanded, and Mason and Mabel came over to show him his left hand, and her right, where along the pinky on each hand, there was a small surgical scar from the base of the knuckle to the wrist.

"We didn't really find out we even had them until we were older and Stanley found out what had happened." Mason shrugged as Ford looked over their hands.

"He tore mom and dad a new one that night. It explained why there were no baby pictures of us till we were almost a year old." Mabel added.

"Woah woah, wait. So you two were both born with six fingers, and your parents cut them off!?" Dipper exclaimed. Mason scratched his neck with his free hand.

"Were they... double jointed? Conjoined?" Ford asked, still looking down at their hands. Mason frowned.

"No... they were healthy, just like yours. Our parents just saw a flaw, I'm not even sure they knew you well enough to know you had six fingers too.... Ford I'm sorry."

Ford looked up at them both and finally let their hands go, hiding his own behind his back again. "You have nothing to be sorry for... excuse me." He rushed past them, and Mason felt something like guilt settle in his stomach. Dipper and Mabel started to go after him, but Stanley told them to stay put, and went after him himself.

------------‐------------------------------------

Mabel woke up to the room being silent, which wasn't good. Even though they had their own rooms back in California, she could usually still hear her brother snoring through the wall. A silent room meant he'd walked out. Groaning, she heaved herself off the bed and slipped into her shoes. The makeshift gag he had on was on the floor by the door. If she was lucky, he only made is as far as the kitchen, but she'd definitely found him outside before. Sneaking out the door, she whispered for Mason, just in case he'd somehow woken himself up. No reply, and no creaking, not good. She looked around a bit still, expecting to find him facing a corner like some kind of horror movie, finding nothing until she heard a creak of wood above her.

No.

Theres no way.

The shuffling sound continued above her, and she bounded outside to look up at the roof, the almost full moon illuminating the house better than any flashlight could. Her stomach dropped when she saw a figure swaying, stumbling toward the tip of the shack.

No.

Nononono!

"Shit Dip, how the hell did you get up there!?" She whispered, quickly running around the house to figure out how he got up there. Finding a drain pipe that looked somewhat sturdy, she used the window next to it to try and shimmy up it, but once she got a grip on the edge of the gutter, the whole corner fell off, and she fell back onto the damp grass, groaning.

------------‐------------------------------------

Is this a shameless plug? Maybe. Maybe I just like sharing my writing. 🤔🤷

[sfwregressionfanfictions]

Growing pain: Johanna Mason x little reader

Summary: Johanna and (Y/N) find ways to live after the pain.

Wc: 4k

Tw: hunger games details, mentions of death and gore. Less that The Hunger Games , but more that the average agree fic.

I feel like I’ve lost control of everything since the games ended and the rebellion succeeded. After years of torture, it was over but I wasn’t over it. Mentally I was never free. I feel it lurking around every corner, in my brain and physically.

I see the faces of the people I killed in the arena and for the rebellion. I see the faces of those I lost: Finnick, bogs and so many others. I see the torture I endured in the capital and in my district. I cannot sleep due to this haunting.

I’m lucky enough not to be alone. After the rebellion won the therapist said both Johanna and I should not live alone. We both quickly decided we tolerate each other well enough, so we would rather live together than have a “babysitter”. We still have mandatory therapy appointments but most are done on the phone.

Johanna was loud and harsh a majority of the time, she seemed to have calmed down slightly since our freedom was established. She was outspoken still but she was honest and genuine. She always tried her best to calm me during my episodes, she has improved her ability to empathize but still struggles.

She says I help ground her too. I never feel like I do, but I suppose I can’t determine how she feels. She sometimes talks about how we met, she talks about how she saw me during my games while she was the mentor, and she discusses the past and who we were. Johanna has grown nostalgic, talking about the innocence in my eyes during my first interview. It’s hard to remember. I’m only 21 now, but it’s hard to remember when I was a child or when I had a childhood.

Even before the games, I fought to survive and help my family survive. I trapped animals by the fences and worked for anyone willing to pay. And not to talk about the horrors from after my first game.

Now we live in a house on the edge of the woods in district 7. Johanna has started building a log cabin farther into the woods, as she has wanted to do for a long time, it’s part of her therapy I think. I meet with my therapist meets with me every Saturday morning, and so far she’s said I’ve made no improvements.

She wants to actually meet in person this weekend so we can try a new method. I agreed, only because I knew Johanna would be in the woods. She would probably stay close enough to hear me if I scream, she’s always nervous to leave me with strangers.

Johanna had left early for the woods, claiming she wanted to get a lot of work done. My therapist showed up with a large bag over her shoulder. She made herself comfortable in Johanna and my living room. She accepts my offer of water, rejecting coffee or tea.

“So how have you been sleeping?” She asks, as soon as I sit across from her.

“Umm… The usual amount… I guess maybe a little more…” I reply shyly. I hated that question.

“That’s good that you are increasing your sleep, even just a little. That’s a huge step for you!” She said, she was sincere, but I always feel like she’s being sarcastic. “What about nightmares?”

“No change,” I said almost too fast. It’s not that there was an increase in number, it was an increase in severity.

“Okay, now I was hoping you would be willing to talk about what you were like before the games?” The therapist asked.

“God it’s been so long, I guess I was a normal child? I mean I had a family, I went to school, worked. I was the average kid in my district.” I reply.

“So what I’m hearing is you never really had time for those key parts of being a kid?” The therapist asked, “Did you feel like your needs were being met in all capacities?”

“Yeah! My family gave me the best life they could!” I yell, I felt like she was spitting on the efforts and the fight they put into providing the life I had.

“I didn’t mean to offend you, I simply meant compared to that of perhaps a capital child!” The therapist explained, “the reason I brought it up is so I could be positive that this therapy had a chance to be helpful.”

“What is this therapy?” I said reserved again.

“So it’s called age regression. It is a coping/therapeutic method that helps you reconnect to your inner child, to a point where you were safe and felt loved.” The therapist explained, “what it is, is you revert to a childlike mental state where you will have a chance to engage with like like you are that age.”

I grumble, almost embarrassed that this is even a suggestion. I think about how Johanna’s therapist told her to build the house she wanted and acknowledge the way she feels. AND I GET TURNED INTO A BABY?

“You don’t seem thrilled by the idea, however, I would really like you to give it a genuine try.” The therapist said, “I won’t ask you to attempt in front of me as I know you aren’t ready for that yet. But I would also like you to reflect if there was any time you might have accidentally or unintentionally regressed okay?”

“Yeah, I guess I can try to do that.” I signed.

“Okay, I will leave you with this bag of different items that might help you regress. And how about we call next week and meet in person the time after that?” She asked.

“Yeah, that will work for me,” I said staring at the bag as if it could come alive at any point.

She was quick to leave after that. Once I was alone, I picked up the bag. However, the door goes flying open, and in comes Johanna. She tried to play it cool, but it was obvious she wanted to make sure I was okay.

“What’s in the bag?” Johanna immediately asked, pointing her ax at it.

“Apparently stuff for a new type of therapy…” I gave up the information.

“Yeah? Morphling? That’s some good stuff to help you forget the pain.” She jabs at herself, she had an intense addiction after she was held in the capital.

“Umm… no… I don’t know exactly what is in it…” I didn’t lie, I technically didn’t know exactly what was in the bag.

“Okay,” She raised her hands as a surrender, “I have to get back to work, but I’ll be back before dinner tonight.”

“Okay, be safe,” I reply.

“Obviously, got a lot to do still!” She replied.

With Johanna gone, I brought the bag to my room. I closed to door and immediately started going through the bag. I was almost embarrassed to say that I was excited, it felt like I was getting lots of gifts.

On the top of the bag, I pulled out fake stuffed animals, a bunny, and a bear. I giggled lightly thinking of how Jo and I presented, the stuffed animals looked like us. I was fast and jumpy during my games, like a bunny. Johanna was strong and sturdy with her axe during her games, like a bear.

I go into the bag again and find a few types of dolls. Then I pull out diapers, I yelp at this. I placed the diapers very far away, I wasn’t willing to try that! I grab another item quickly to avoid lingering on the diapers. The item I pull out is a storybook. It was a picture book, it looked like something I would have enjoyed as a kid.

I dove into the bag again, this time pulling out a coloring book. I could do that and not feel too embarrassed. I continued pulling stuff from the bags, primarily toys, pacifiers, and teethers.

With everything laid out, I decided that I was willing to try the coloring books and teethers/paci tonight. The stuffed animals somehow already made themselves at home on my bed. I guess I should put on something comfortable and try what the therapist said.

Once cozy, I lay on the floor and begin looking through the coloring book. I settle on a picture of a Pegasus with butterflies. I begin coloring the picture, I start on the butterflies, coloring the wings a burnt orange. I was cautious of the edges.

Soon enough, I was done coloring the butterflies and I am feeling slightly fuzzy in the head. It was odd, it felt like when I would go to the parties in the capital and would drink the strange bubbly drinks, that always made me giggly. I was giggly now too. I notice I am not holding the crayon correctly anymore. I am gripping it in my fist, and rubbing it against the page.

I feel light, almost weightless. It is nice to feel so carefree, I am childlike again. I feel like when I was 7. I dive back into coloring, one page turns into two turns into a handful. My drawing begins to ignore the lines and I pick the most fun colors rather than the ones that would work together the best. I start sprawling on the floor, rubbing my eyes with my balled-up fist, and haphazardly swiping my hair out of my face with no grace.

I suppose it must have been a while since I began my session. Because it grew dark in my room, as the light from the window faded out of view. I whimper at the change in light, I feel silly being scared of the dark but I was so small. Smaller than when I was 7, I wanted Johanna. I always felt safe with her. However, I couldn’t let her see me like this. I felt embarrassed that this made me feel better, I should be able to deal with it like every other victor. But here I am sprawled on the ground giggling at the pictures I color, as my thumb migrates toward my mouth. Just as it passes my lips, the slamming of a door startles me. Johanna always was rough on the doors after a long day.

“(Y/N)?” She yelled out from the living room. I freeze, think big thoughts, think big thoughts I repeat to myself.

“Yes?” I yell back, I sounded wrong. I move to get up and go to the door, hoping she wasn’t set on coming into my room as there was no time to get everything hidden before she comes in. I was lucky enough to slip out before she made it to my door. I smile at the sight of her sweaty frame, she had been working hard on the cabin. Seeing her like this was always slightly domestic, she had a slight smile and her axe was left at the door.

“What have you been up to, birdie?” Johanna asked, she called me that as the first time we met, I squawked like a bird. I did not mean to she startled me and now she wouldn’t let me live it down.

“I was doing something that the doc wanted me to do…” I reply shyly, It was scary to talk about treatment. Johanna would want to know, making a comment about ‘supporting’ each other. She acted like it was important to us, but I think she just likes being nosy. “I meant to make dinner, but I go distracted…”

“You sound off, weird almost,” Johanna said bluntly, she didn’t mean it in an offensive way she just spoke like that. “How about we cook up some soup now? We got that rice from district 11 that you liked, we can try to make the rice soup seeder made that one time.”

She always seems to remember the small things that I liked. Last week, she decided to visit Finnick (He was alive but had some nasty scars from the muttations.), and came back with a Tupperware of the same dessert Annie made for her baby shower. I mentioned once that I wish I had the recipe so I could remake it, but I knew it was an important family recipe for Annie so I didn't pry.

“I would like that…” I reply, I sounded small and innocent still like a child. Johanna said nothing this time, I suppose she didn’t care enough to point out that fact.

“Start filling that pot up with water, I’m gonna clean up a little,” Johanna says walking to the bathroom, Johanna has gotten better with showers and water in general. She doesn’t freak out about water she knows is going to touch her, but surprise water still gets to her. Puddles, rain, and any splashes.

Once the pot is filled up, Johanna is out of the shower. She is dressed in a tank top and sweatpants. She looks so pretty.

“All filled up, what is the next step chef?” I asked my voice almost back to normal. I still felt slightly fuzzy in my head.

“You are gonna chop up some broccoli, and I am going to make the base and rice.” She said she was always good at delegating work.

With that, she’s pulling goods out of the pantry and fridge, and I am getting the knife and cutting block. By the time I get the large block of wood, I am pretty sure Johanna made it. If I was being honest, using a knife made me nervous still. I would start to shake and think back to my game.

I stood there staring at the board that had broccoli sitting on it, the knife in my hand. I didn’t mean to space out at this scene. I must have stood there too long, not moving. I felt a hand wrap around mine, as I hold the knife. My head whipped around only to see Johanna’s pity-filled smile.

“It’s just broccoli,” Johanna said, it was blunt. It was meant to be soothing though, it worked better on me than it would on others. Johanna did the leg work of cutting up on veggies while I just leaned back into her sturdy frame.

Johanna was always overly gentle with me, even when she was rough on me it did not compare to the roughness she had towards others. When she had flashbacks or breaks, she never hurt me. She would scream and cry, trying to get me away, but would never hurt me. When we first moved back to district 7, she would rarely shower due to her fear of it, however, I slowly got her to shower. I would stand in the way of the water and she would let the mist that bounced off me hit her. It took a while but she eventually got to a point where she was comfortable showering alone.

“You know you can tell me what your head doctor said to you right?” Johanna asked, before following it up, “Or I could call her and have her tell me…”

“I feel like that would be breaking a rule,” I giggled at her. We placed the knife down as we finished cutting the vegetables.

“Then tell me, little bird,” Johanna said, as she poked at my sides. I felt my face go red and my eyes water a bit.

“You will make fun of me, and then leave me here alone,” I reply looking down at my hands.

“Now, does that sound like something I would do?” She asked as she dumped the vegetables into the soup and left it to simmer. “What if I told you something that my head doctor told me to do that I don’t like?”

I stood there, ‘would I trade a secret for a secret?’. I nod as I pull myself onto the counter to sit.

“My doctor says it's important that I start connecting with more people and try to connect on a different level…” Johanna all but groaned out.

“Like date someone?” I squeak back.

“I suppose, something about taking care of someone I connect with and care about… blah blah blah. Like I pay attention to that.” Johanna huffed, her eyes bearing into mine as to say she wanted to say more, to be vulnerable but wasn’t able to form the words.

“Do you not want to ever have that? Someone that loves you as you love them?” I ask quickly, I was never good at hiding my feelings. I always had an affection for her, although I tried to break it. As Johanna would always refuse to love another person after what happened to her.

“I…” She starts and trails off as she stares into my doe eyes. She bit the inside of my cheeks as her eyes flicker to my lips. “Stop trying to stall, tell me what your stupid head doctor said.

I stare at her for a second before reaching my pinky out and asking her if she would still stay with me no matter what. She connected our fingers with a small scuff at my antics. I soon spoke, “So she said before we could deal with the trauma from the games and the umm… you know afterward. I have to address the trauma I have from my childhood…”

“What the f*** does that even mean?” Johanna says, getting angry that the doctor wasn’t just fixing me. I appreciate that she cares this much, but she was being loud and aggressive about it and it startled me.

“She wants me to create a safe childhood for myself…” I am still picking at my nails but I am hyper aware of her shifting next to me.

“What?” She was confused, I could almost hear the cogs turning in her hair.

“She ummm… she wants me to regress…” I finally say, Johanna still didn’t understand but she faked a smile.

“Well, do you think it will fix the screws that are loose?” She asked, it was all she could, she didn’t know anything about it. All I could do was shrug before turning my attention to getting bowls and spoons.

Johanna did not push the topic anymore, at dinner she talked about how the cabin was coming along. She said that I was going to get to decorate it, she would make any furniture I wanted. It was her way of sharing what mattered to her. Her love language

I told her the following day I was going to go into the market to get groceries and asked if there was anything she needed. She said no like always, she always wanted to be the provider. I only smiled and nodded before resuming eating my soup.

The evening was like any other, Johanna and I sat on the couch. She is reading a book about an adventure that takes place far away from here. I sat close to her, writing a grocery list. My head eventually makes its way to her lap. Her hand finds its way to my head, playing with strands, almost petting me. Johanna and I fell asleep like this, I was the first to fall asleep obviously.

This happens a lot, usually when this happens Johanna will either carry me to bed or if she is tired also she will simply wiggle in. She tries to wake up before me so I dont catch her being soft but sometimes I get lucky. I was not lucky that morning, she was gone by the time I woke up. She was most likely in the woods again or perhaps she went to speak with the lady down the street to get a new ax head made.

I did not fret over her whereabouts, she was strong and reliable. I was quick getting ready, I loved days at the market. Now that people are able to enjoy life, the market was light and airy. Kids played and danced, there was always music playing and the shopkeepers were always throwing extra into my bag, as I was a ‘leader’ in the rebellion. I always refused the gifts, I was never a leader, simply a survivor.

Today I stopped by a small flower stand, I always pause to look at them. I could never get myself to buy them, I feel like a capital citizen using money on lavish goods when people could be starving. I am aware the war is over and the likelihood of starvation is low with the new leadership.

I was in the market for about two hours before deciding to walk back to victors village. I took what was considered the long way back, and it only took an additional 5 minutes. However, I enjoyed the extra 5 minutes of birds singing and trees so tall I couldn’t see the top.

When I returned, I opened the door to find Johanna on the couch reading a book. ‘Must have decided to have a short day,’ I think as I drop the groceries in the kitchen before walking over to see how she was. Once I walk back into the living room, I see the title of the book she was reading. I freeze, “Age regression: explanations and tips”. There were other books all similarly themed.

“What are you doing?” I ask nervously. I nibbled on my lip to keep from attempting to remain grounded.

“Reading.” She said dryly, flipping the page. She was obviously enthralled by the book. She had tabs sticking out of it and a pen in her lap.

“You don't have to read that, you can act like nothing is happening!” I meekly reply. I want to cry from embarrassment, how could I be doing this nonchalantly. This is embarrassing.

“Why would I do that? That is stupid.” She didn’t spare a glance away from the book, “Do you need help with the groceries?”

“Umm… No, I can do it. You don’t have to worry about it.” I sputtered out as she finally glanced away from the page she was on, placing a bookmark in it and stood up.

“Too late, you are stuck with my help.” Johanna grunted walking past me to the kitchen.

I follow behind, looking lost. All I could really think of was ‘why?’. Why would Johanna go out of her way to do this for me? Why did it seem she was enjoying my suffering?

“Ohhh, you got the stuff for the meal we had when Katniss visited! It was tasty. When are we making it?” She asked, snapping me out of my mental tirade.

“We can make it whenever, there isn't a specific day I was planning to make it.” I reply, grabbing the bag that held the fruits I bought us.

“Cool, cool. You should read some of the books I got, they are really informative.” She said, watching me like she did during the 75th hunger games. Cautiously, ready to save me from an unseen force.

“Why did you get them?” I ask, staring at the apples I placed in our fridge.

“Well we are gonna be living together for a while so I thought I should at least know a little of what was going on in that head…” Johanna trailed off, an unsureness settling over us.

We let the silence fill the room until she lets out a forced cough. I popped my head up from were I was squatting, still holding the food I meant to put away. She spoke, “So I read that usually regressors have a caregiver, did your doc say anything about getting one?”

I shook my head, not knowing exactly what it was. I did understand she seemed bitter about it. She seemed glad to know I wasn’t planning to get one, she was rather territorial.

“Okay, for now perhaps, I could take on that role? Then my shrink is happy and I know that you are safe.” She suggests.

“Okay, I suppose that’s okay. I don’t know what that means though.” I said.

“I will teach you”

[niquescircle]

HELLOOOO GUISE, we are back with another one.. Welcome to my Hoodoo channel, mini community, journal entries.. and etc.

Today we are gonna hit the ground running with some tones, of my personal favorite by Chaka Khan.

This cover was phenomenally done of course! This song signifies one asking for protection and guidance within the path of the unknown, with the search of a better journey ahead. CHEF’S KISS!

Now that we’ve set the mood, let’s get into the next segment. We’ll be discussing a well-known elder within the Hoodoo community.

Bishop C. H. MASON

Bishop Charles Harrison Mason Sr., organizer, Chief Apostle, and first Senior Bishop of the Church of God in Christ, presently the biggest African-American Pentecostal Church in the United States, utilized roots and contorted and wound woods to observe God's will.

Bishop Charles Harrison Mason Sr. was one more well known conjurer and rookworker who was in a genuine way submersed as a Christian. He was really a Pentecostal denominational pioneer and the originator of the Church of God in Christ (COGIC) situated in Memphis, Tennessee. One of the main occasions in Mason's day to day existence was surviving a yellow fever pestilence when he was twelve years of age. His recuperation was ascribed to petition and rootwork. His mom, Eliza (we will additionally examine on day 4) who was previously oppressed, was referred to locally as being extremely strong and profoundly gifted which individuals accepted he in the long run inherited.

Here is a clip of a prayer conducted by Bishop Charles Harrison Mason Sr.

[cyberghostdraws]

This is the OC fairy 🌼🧚‍♀️ When you get this in your ask box, please tell us three facts or trivia about one of your OCs, then pass it on to someone else 🩷 Let's learn about each other's OCs! 💛💐 (no pressure to do this if you'd rather not!)

For yume please 💕

Hola Aly linda muak 💜🫂

And of course yes!

It was not a problem to implement Yume in this universe. Here are some facts about her. C:

l general she is quite kind to others but, with Adler they do not tolerate each other and even more so she cannot see him even in the painting. XD

During the brainwashing that Adler was being subjected to, she didn't want to cure him or treat him at least, not until Woods, Mason and Hudson convinced her with a bottle of sake.

During the 80's she had problems with alcohol Since he was affected by Bowman's death and what happened during his missions in the Vietnam conflict, Hudson suggested that it would be best for her to be out of missions temporarily although she was not entirely in agreement with this in the end she accepted Although he spent more time in the medical agency where he is mostly

I leave here a draw of Yume ✨

Gracias linda! 💜✨

.ೃ࿔*━━━━━━ 𓏲ֹ۪❪ ⿴ꯨ❛ 🌸 ❜˚❫ 𓏲ֹ۪━━━━━━.ೃ࿔*

[lillamolntuss]

lillamolntuss read 2024… check it out or don’t 🫢

titles in bold are my favorites… thumb down for books i didn’t like okay

🦦

the lost honor of katharina blum - heinrich böll

sir gawain and the green knight trans. marie borroff

the nenoquich - henry bean 👎

cat’s cradle - kurt vonnegut

under the net - iris murdoch

sugar and other stories - a.s. byatt

nausea - jean-paul sartre 👎

where i end - sophie white

the sandcastle - iris murdoch

dansare, konstnärer, älskare: ballets suédois 1920-1925 - karin helander

couples - john updike 👎🤢

the favorite game - leonard cohen

sula - toni morrison

the nice and the good - iris murdoch

sartre: romantic rationalist - iris murdoch

selected stories - katherine mansfield

men in the off hours - anne carson

johannasviten - patrik rochling

when we were birds - ayanna lloyd banwo 👎

waiting for godot - samuel beckett

beloved - toni morrison

the member of the wedding - carson mccullers

all the lovers in the night - mieko kawakami

the master and margarita - mikhail bulgakov

beautiful losers - leonard cohen

iris murdoch for beginners - bran nicol

the maze maker - michael ayrton

the portrait of a lady - henry james

the joke - milan kundera

the black album - hanif kureishi

the bell - iris murdoch

aucassin and nicolette: and other medieval romances and legends - ed. eugene mason

the heart is a lonely hunter - carson mccullers

never let me go - kazuo ishiguro

my autobiography of carson mccullers - jenn shapland

slaughterhouse-five - kurt vonnegut

ballet and modern dance - susan au

twelfth night - shakespeare

the stranger - albert camus

human acts - han kang

tipping the velvet - sarah waters

the unicorn - iris murdoch

the sweetest dream - doris lessing

immodest acts: the life of a lesbian nun in renaissance italy - judith c. brown

the end of the story - lydia davis

salt slow - julia armfield

creation lake - rachel kushner

stone yard devotional - charlotte wood

remarkably bright creatures - shelby van pelt 👎👎👎

wise children - angela carter