#dark moons of slough

[brunette-gremlin]

if i had a nickel each time a female character played by aj would disregard luke's character having a bad omen about the future, i would have three nickels, which is not a lot but makes it way too funny to be true

[svnnyd4ys]

updated update of the Xavier (SFTH) family tree!!

@not-an-idiot thank you very much for your help with this!!! i made this post because there have been quite a few developments to it and it's nice to have it all in one post :))

here is the overview, and then we'll dive deeper into each branch/backstory on the tree! (long post under the cut because i cannot stop rambling about this stuff, it's so interesting)

----

BUS: Celia is just a random name, but felt fitting! 'Big Dick' has always been a nickname of the family's patriarch, Arthur. He is also the main source of any sort of 'powers' within the family, as he is able to time travel/project his consciousness across space and time (much like his daughter, Thomasin).

He has some kind of immortality deal going on, and he dedicates his books to his great-great grandson, Samuel Babb-Dailey (aka the protagonist from Beetroots & Murder).

TOO BIG TO BE A JOCKEY: Jonas Langbook is the youngest of Celia and Arthur's 3 children, and he is also the manor owner from Too Big To Be A Jockey. He's the family 'embarrassment' but the parents favour him, because he reminds BD of himself. he did not 'earn' the manor, in fact- it was a gift.

Despite his flaws, Jonas loves his nieces and in fact, often has Samantha visiting as she often struggled with leaving the house, (his sister was always the same, little did they know it's a side affect of the visions) and so this encouraged her in doing so, and helped her build her confidence. Jonas would also teach both Sally and Samantha how to ride, and one night, Samantha was out in the stables, and that's where she met Egbert for the first time (but more on that later).

PRISCILLA'S FINAL PETAL: Earl is both his name and title- he moved to Germany from England because he wanted to stay as far away from Jonas as possible. (because he's a dick)

He met Annabelle at a German flower shop, they got married, had Priscilla etc. but much like his brother, Earl struggles to keep his eyes on one thing, and he ends up meeting one of Thomasin's friends, Lily, when he is visiting Celia on her deathbed. (something something, their entire relationship has been built upon important people in their lives dying).

Unfortunately, Annabelle dies, but Lily's there to comfort him, and be a good mother figure for Priscilla. How wholesome!

MARIGOLDS, BLUEBELLS, AND HUGH: Annabelle is the daughter of Inga and Hugh (aside, i've not watched this play in ages, so like i'm not saying they're romantically involved or anything bc i don't remember it much at all, so they could've just adopted her etc.), and she's always loved plants. So much so that when she and Earl first move into their estate, she insists on planting all sorts, for example, buttercups.

THE LEFTENMOST WINDOW: Thomasin is the middle child and only daughter of Celia and BD. From a young age, Thomasin has struggled with fatigue, headaches and leaving the house. Alexander was one of the Langbrook's 'Hallboys' and was Thomasin's only friend for most of her childhood.

They got married at ages 19 & 20 respectively. BD had a lot of respect for Alexander, but Celia would often try to break the pair up. At age 15, Thomasin had her first traverse across the astral plane, and told no one, apart from her father. When the Boer war broke out, Samantha and Sally had both already been born, but Alexander still had no idea.

He only found out when one night, he heard a voice he thought that he'd never hear again.

Samantha is around 6 years older than Sally, and during the Boer war, acted as her main caretaker for a while due to Thomasin's migraines becoming worse and getting more frequent. Sally's always been the more rambunctious of the pair, and at ages 15 and 9 respectively, the two of them travel to Jonas' manor.

Sally is always up and about, running around the stables, talking to the farmhands, whereas Samantha is usually reading inside, or sitting on the hay bales.

One night, Samantha falls asleep outside on one of those days, and who wakes her up? None other than the son of one of her uncle's friends, Egbert Babb-Dailey. 3 years later, the two of them are getting married and then the First World War breaks out, leading to Samantha's powers to develop.

(i've made so many TLW posts that go further into these ideas, feel free to check them out!!)

BEETROOTS AND MURDER: Samantha and Egbert have two children (they were both born later on in their lives, as they struggled to conceive), however, when their children are quite young, Samantha and Egbert pass away in a house fire, the cause of which is unknown.

Samuel 'Big Dick' Babb-Dailey is sent away to live with Cyrus and Summer Setchell (get it?). He has repressed all memories of his life before moving to Somerset. All he remembers is that he quite likes fire. The only connections he has to his past are the dedications in the sex books some random guy writes and then drops off at his parents house. This has led to him also getting the nickname 'Big Dick' and quietly resenting the man. He also has no idea about his sister.

The fire gives him back some memories of his past, but all he can really remember are their names.

THE PILOT'S FINAL FLIGHT: Martha is Egbert and Samantha's second child, and instead of being sent away like her brother, her aunt Sally insisted on taking her in. (possibly because she's aware that it's more likely for Martha to develop the visions than her brother, and she doesn't want her to suffer alone the same way Samantha did).

For most of her life, Martha actually didn't seem that affected by anything. She was more like Sally than Samantha and Sally began to wonder whether or not she'd taken in the right sibling, but then when Martha was 16, she became afflicted by terrible migraines.

Months after the migraines started, Martha awoke in a cold sweat, and explained that she had a vision of a horrible fire and the name Samuel. That was her first ever future dream, and the last time she ever had one... Well. Technically.

Martha and Leyland meet for the first time because he's (attempting) to buy flowers for his mum, but really has no idea what he's doing or what she'd want. Martha has some knowledge of flowers, because her 'Aunt' Priscilla had gifted her several books, so she assisted him in picking the best ones. From there on, the rest was history.

They got married, Leyland graduated and joined the RAF Research project, all whilst raising their son, Michael. When Leyland's mission goes horribly wrong, Sally begins to take up most of the childcare, allowing Martha to develop a drinking problem. There comes a point where Sally refuses to help her anymore, so Martha is left alone to raise Michael for good.

Years go by, Leyland doesn't return, Martha's not had a dream in years and Michael just seems angry. (In my mind, he's inherited more of Arthur BD's traversing powers, than the future dreams)

And then Martha starts to hear him calling to her, and Michael goes into the astral plane to save him, and all is done.

THE NEIGHBOUR'S UNDER THE BED/DARK MOONS OF SLOUGH Samuel becomes a single father to James and Penelope, who are twins. The pair are mostly raised equally, until Penelope develops her future dreams at age 9 and this majorly scares Samuel. (reminds him of worse times).

With this, Samuel focuses nearly all of his attention on James, bringing him to every football match and providing attention and support, whilst completely ignoring Penelope.

At first, James did feel bad for his sister, and would try and get his dad to pay attention to her, but eventually, just ignoring her and going along with whatever Samuel was doing was easier, and also felt better.

James' first future dream came when he was 15, and Samuel was much more prepared this time. Penelope would watch in envy, and the boys would ignore her completely.

He eventually meets his Martha at one of his matches (Penelope was there too, she always was) and the pair go on to get married, and have Johnny and Janae. After the kids were born, Penelope left and moved to Slough.

When she heard that Janae had also developed future dreams at the same age Penelope had, she came back. Over the years, she'd managed to make a soup which helped to repress the headaches, so she would send batches over to help her family.

does this make sense? hopefully xx

[towersofviolet]

if i had a nickel for every time aj had to physically separate sam and luke who are making aggressive animal noises at each other, i'd have two nickels, which isn't a lot but it's weird that it's happened twice

[i-may-be-an-emu]

I might have already said this but I find it SO impressive that Sam just. Makes up. An entire soup recipe on the spot.

[sfth-ratings-and-reviews]

The Dark Moons of Slough- 5/10

This play starts off really strong, with three chaotic evil witches who seemingly... just want to win a food festival/soup tasting competition? Asgaroth the (evil?) soup restaurant owner/wizard and Jamie Oliver, the antagonists of the story, come in to mess with the judge of the soup competition. While very fun characters, their motivations throughout the story were a little unclear and inconsistent. Regardless, the story was very strong until the competition started, at which point the plot got lost. Does anyone care about the three witch protagonists at the end? Nah, they were all just part of the bigger plot against the judge. Why is everyone against the judge? Because... yeah, no one is quite sure. At least there are fun facts to learn- did you know that in Spain, you can buy bottled soup? Bonus points to Sam for coming up with an entire soup recipe on the spot and negative points to Luke and AJ for claiming two leeks chopped up in a pie and sixteen raw eggs belong in any soup.

[neighbourhoodtwo]

playing along with the dm and giving your character and their weapons a cool backstory vs "i bought them from a shop"

[bbatcat-09]

The three witches

Based vaguely on SFTH’s #4: The Dark Moons Of Slough.

[practicedvmm13fullofpotatoes]

All of sfth's improvized plays described by someone with bad/selective memory (but remembers 90% of the sentences they make up) pt. 1

1) Oh My God, Is This A Joke?

Xavier died as he lived. ✨Shirtless✨ (THIS IS THE ONLY THING I REMEMBER FROM OMGiTaJ I AM NOT KIDDING)

2) The Merengue Haberdashery

The sick wife wasn't sick and something something she's the lady of a thousand Don Juans and she ends up winning *insert villain laugh here*

3) Lost In Your Eyes

THREE MEN ON A SHIP-UH WE USED TO BE FIFTY-FOUR. Also, gun-knife and knife-gun :))

4) The Dark Moons of Slough

Magic soup. Luke's character getting flashbacks + Luke carrying the last scene of the play

5) Long Johns - STRIKE!

They should have kissed.... Hhhhhsgdhnss... OH and also it was a very chilly winter. D.I Mannering got nothing on his lower half. His wife said "why didn't you just wear trousers?" he said "no. that's what they want"

Prev // Next

[boviform]

Shoot From The Hip Longforms reviewed by how accurate the title is

Oh My God, Is this A Joke? - 4/10. There are quite a lot of jokes, actually.

The Meringue Haberdashery - 5/10. A lot of haberdashery, no meringue.

Lost in Your Eyes - 3/10. Someone is certainly lost, but it's actually at sea.

The Dark Moons of Slough - 2/10. It's set in Slough but there aren't any moons relevant to the plot, dark or otherwise.

Long Johns - STRIKE! - 7/10. I mean, there is a strike at the long johns factory so that's decently descriptive I guess?

Too Big To Be A Jockey - 10/10. That man is absolutely too big to be a jockey.

The Oopsie Daisy Bulge - 3/10. I feel like an invasion is a little more than an 'oopsie daisy.'

The Hare Who Wore A Sweater - 8/10. If I want to be pedantic, there are actually multiple hares wearing sweaters.

Once Upon a Time I Killed Mum - 6/10. 'Once upon a time' implies an event took place sometime long in the past, but the matricide was actually very recent.

The Midnight Mystery - 4/10. Only the first scene takes place at midnight, and the mystery is pretty obvious.

Inside the Mysterious Cube - 3/10. There are multiple mysterious cubes and only the last scene actually takes place in one.

BUS - 1/10. 'Bus' does not even begin to cover what this play's about.

All Eyes on Nigel - 6/10. Surely not ALL eyes on Nigel?

No! I Always Loved That Caravan - 6/10. The affection this man had for his caravan is of somewhat less importance than the title suggests.

Wild, Wet and Worrisome - 10/10. Fuck dude, it sure is.

The Cardboard Stegosaurus - 3/10. Can confirm that a cardboard stegosaurus is present, but it's completely irrelevant to anything else that happens.

The Ingredients - 4/10. There is only one ingredient of any significance.

The Excited Chinchilla - 6/10. There is certainly a chinchilla, but I'm not sure if 'excited' is the correct adjective to use.

The Prime Minister's First Day - 9/10. Pretty good summary, A+.

The Leftenmost Window - 0/10. That's not even a word.

The Neighbour's Under The Bed - 5/10. He's only under there for one scene.

The Milkman - 9/10. There is a Milkman.

Beetroots and Murder - 6/10. No one is actually murdered. 'Beetroots and Arson' would be a much better title.

Susan's Holiday - 8/10. To be fair, it's Tracy's holiday too.

The Evil Make-A-Wish Kid - 10/10. That kid sure is evil.

The Mystery of the Midnight Circus - 6/10. The circus isn't actually open at midnight.

Caesar and Juliet - 8/10. Again, to be pedantic, other characters are also present.

Wine Under The Bridge - 9/10. There is a bridge and there is wine, and at one point the wine is taken under the bridge.

The Unrelenting Aubergine - 6/10. It is very much relenting.

The Lighthouse - 10/10. There is a lighthouse.

Murders in Space - 10/10. Murders do indeed happen in space.

Marigolds, Bluebells, and Hugh - 5/10. Orchids are far more important to the plot than marigolds or bluebells.

Moist and Magical - 8/10. There is magic. We can presume it is moist because Scotland gets a lot of rain.

Burglary and Bobsledding - 6/10. A+ on the bobsledding. As for burglary, I don't think the removal of a single machine part counts as 'burglary' so much as 'sabotage'.

Toby's Secret Pocket - 6/10. Toby has multiple secret pockets.

Ballet on the Battlefield - 2/10. At no point does ballet ever take place on a battlefield.

The Phantom of Hornchurch - 10/10. Yeap, that's him.

The Grape Depression - 9/10. Accurate in terms of both economic and emotional depression!

[sister-lucifer]

Genre: Smut 

Summary: Tim is dazed and confused after wandering through these cursed woods for who knows how long, when he encounters a mysterious figure on the dark waters of the lake. 

Content/Warnings: Male reader, frottage, oral sex, the story is from Tim’s POV, the siren is referred to with it/its pronouns, some mystery/horror/unsettling elements, the siren has a prehensile penis, masturbation, attempted/near drowning, underwater ejaculation, it’s left up to interpretation whether or not this actually happened or was just a hallucination, sort of hypnosis I guess? Not really sure what to call it but use of siren song powers 

Like my writing? I take requests! NSFW or SFW for any fandoms in my bio (request rules + masterlist in pinned post)!

Also, please reblog! it’s free, takes two seconds, and really helps me out. 

Feedback is encouraged and appreciated. 

Not fully proofread! Let me know if you see any errors.

Tim isn’t sure how long he’s been walking. It feels like the night has gone on forever, his boots caked in mud from hours of wandering without any vestige of an intended destination. He isn’t sure how long he’s been in these god forsaken woods at all. His frustration and anger have long since melted away to exhaustion, the endless trees silently mocking him as they watch him struggle to pull himself towards a freedom he cannot see. This entire plane of existence is a cruel, horridly sentient monster of phantasmagorical insanity built to break the minds of any who enter, and he can feel the cracks starting to grow throughout his tortured psyche like a starving parasite threatening to encompass him fully.

It feels like his body is rotting.

Like the muscle is sloughing off the bone with every move he makes, joints aching and falling apart as he forces himself to keep going. The night air is thick with the heat and humidity of the summer, threatening to suffocate him with every inhale. Sweat clings to his clothes and his body like a heavy blanket that only serves to weigh him down even more. 

He’s not sure how much he has left in him.

Everything looks the same, nothing but trees in all directions for impossible distances. He hasn’t even seen another animal, no sign of life beyond the green. He’s starting to lose his vision, sight blurring and distorting in the kaleidoscope of leaves that the moonlight filters through. 

Finally the burn in his legs forces him to come to a stop. His chest is heaving when he falls to his knees, desperately trying to catch his breath. He doesn’t have time to stop.

He’s still for only a second before the raging swill of his thoughts becomes far too loud for his comfort. They scream at him for his foolishness, for his stupidity in getting himself lost this badly, in walking right into the waiting maw of the stalking creature he’s been running from like a lobotomized rabbit to the wolf. Dammit, dammit, dammit. 

The ringing in his ears gradually subsides as his breathing levels out. He pushes down his emotions in favor of keeping himself calm; panic will only doom him further. He has to stay in his right mind if he ever wants to get out of here. 

Then, a sound pierces through his clouded mind like the sharpened point of a needle. A sound, finally, other than the noise of his boots on the grass and his heavy breathing. 

Water. 

The sound of water lapping at the shore. 

He’s managed to wander his way to the lake. 

He stands so quickly he nearly falls over, looking around as he discerns where the sound is coming from. He turns to his left, then to his right, ultimately deciding on the former. His walk quickly turns into a frantic sprint. 

The noise gets louder, calling to him that he’s chosen the right direction. He runs faster. The green is starting to thin, he can see something getting closer, he is so damn close—

It takes everything in him not to collapse under the weight of his insurmountable relief when he emerges from the trees to be greeted with the reflection of the moon on the water.

He rushes to the shore, nearly tripping and tumbling down the bank as he makes a frantic dash for the lake. He stops at the edge, kneeling and pushing his hands beneath the surface, gasping softly when the cool water runs over his hands. 

It’s real. 

He’s not imagining this, it’s real. 

A gravely but triumphant laugh bubbles up from his throat as he basks in his victory. Finally, finally he’s freed himself from the prison of trees, even if he hasn’t found his way back home. He cups the water in his hands and takes a drink, not caring to even consider how dirty the lake might be; that doesn’t matter nearly as much as the cool relief that washes over his dry throat. He splashes a bit of water on his face for good measure, soaking the front of his jacket and granting him some reprieve from the hot, muggy night air. 

For a brief moment he debates taking a swim, but quickly shoots the idea down. The lake is vast and dark, he doesn’t trust it enough to let it engulf him entirely. Not to mention the idea of swimming with such a sore and exhausted body isn’t very appealing. 

He looks up and around, thinking that surely there must be some way to cool off without taking the plunge. His eyes land on a wooden dock some ways away, not too far of a walk. 

…That’ll work. 

He makes his way over to the dock, stepping onto it cautiously to test its strength. It creaks a bit, but gives no real protest as he walks down its length, stopping to sit down at the end. He unlaces his boots and sets them at his side before stowing his socks away inside them. He rolls up the legs of his jeans before allowing his feet to dangle over the side, the water reaching up to soothe his sore calves. He lets his head fall back when he sighs with relief, finally allowing himself to relax. He moves to lay back on the dock, folding his hands over his stomach and taking a deep breath. 

Finally, a fucking break. 

No, it doesn’t solve all his problems—he’s still stuck here, after all���but Goddamn is it nice to finally be able to breathe. 

For just a moment, everything is peaceful. Tim even lets himself forget the hell he’s trapped in at present, focusing instead on the feeling of the water gently cooling his legs. It’s nostalgic, almost—reminds him of when he used to sneak out to the pond behind his house to drink with his high school friends. It’s a fleeting comfort, but an appreciated one nonetheless. 

He lays still there until the frantic thudding of his heart slowly reduces itself to a steady beating, until the ringing in his ears quiets fully and he breathe without a struggle. He feels much lighter now that there’s not so much strain on his muscles and joints. He even lets himself close his eyes, just for a moment, the stars shining on the backs of his lids before fading into the dark. 

He debates going to sleep right here. It’s not a good idea, no, but it’s a tempting one, and much more appealing than sleeping in the dirt. He’s too open here, though, too exposed; he couldn’t hide in a timely manner if the need were the arise. No, no sleep yet, no matter how badly he needs it. Just rest. 

Just enough rest for him to keep going. 

That’s all he can safely grant himself at the moment. 

And for now, that’s okay. 

Just this brief peace is enough after the ordeal he’s been put through. 

He focuses in on his breathing, counting his breaths as he inhales and exhales slowly, keeping the rhythm steady as he takes in the gentle quiet of the surrounding world that, for once, has gone still, relieving him of the heavy burden of survival…

…Only for the sudden sound of something splashing into the lake to jolt him out of his calm. 

His eyes shoot open and he sits up so quick he gets a bit lightheaded. He looks around, frantically trying to find the source of the sound and preparing to grab his boots and make a run for it. He stops when he catches sight of…something that has settled on top of a rock in the middle of the lake.

He pauses, squinting through the fog that has now settled over the water. 

Was the fog always there? 

Could it have moved in that fast? 

Damn, how long has he even been here? 

He pushes the questions away for now, too focused on trying to discern what the hell he’s looking at. 

Then, as if it can feel his eyes, the figure move. Tim can’t see it very well, but he too can feel it staring back just before it dives into the water. 

“…What in the fuck?” he mumbles, unable to conjure any other response. 

What the hell was that thing? 

Couldn’t have been a fish, but it didn’t look like any waterfowl or turtle he’d seen. A gator, maybe? No, unlikely—too fast and too damn tall to be a gator. 

He looks down at his feet, his legs still submerged in the water. 

He really should pull them back out. No telling what that thing was.

He should leave all together, in all honesty, he needs to keep moving…

…So why won’t he? 

He swallows hard, eyes cast down at his still legs. He kicks them in the water a bit, but can’t bring himself to pull them back out. Surely by now he should have enough willpower to pull himself away from this…

He winces a bit as the ringing in his ears suddenly returns with an acute fervor. 

No, wait…not ringing. Some other high pitched noise, something more melodic that starts to melt into the ambience. 

…Music? 

No, it can’t be, but he isn’t able to come up with any other name for it, especially with the fog that’s suddenly thickening in his mind, clouding his thoughts like the mist on the water clouds his vision. He rubs his eyes and looks out over the water again. The figure, that creature is gone, and the rock it was perching on is rapidly fading away into the fog. 

This is bad. He has to get out of here, right now, before something terrible— 

He gasps, nearly jumping out of his skin as something splashes in the water a short distance to his left. He looks over quickly, but all he sees is the ripples on the surface left behind by something diving down into the lake. 

There’s no doubt about it now.

Something is in the lake, and it’s getting closer. 

He tries to make his body move, to get up out of the water and onto the dock, but he’s frozen. The more he tries, the more his mind screams at him to do something, the louder the music gets. echoing in his brain and drowning out any voice of reason. The sound is clearer now, a high pitched vocalization carrying a tune that feels so familiar, like something out of his childhood dripping with a viscous nostalgia that clogs his throat and sticks to the back of his teeth. 

Something splashes again, but with the operatic voice forcing its way into his mind he can’t discern which direction it was. All he knows is it was closer. 

Tim scans the water frantically, but the fog has covered the everything. He can hardly see ten feet in front of him. It feels like the cloudy mist is closing in on him with a purpose, with intent, like this was planned. 

His heart nearly stops when he looks down at his feet, only to see a glowing pair of eyes looking back at him from just beneath the water. 

He flinches, but can’t bring himself to pull back. He’s frozen, like something is holding him in place and forcing him to keep eye contact with this creature. The music is the only thing he can hear. The noise of the crickets and the water and the wind are completely gone, completely overtake by the singing. 

Tim watches, completely mesmerized as the creature slowly rises, breaching the water’s surface with wildly unnatural grace. Tim’s eyes widen in shock and awe as more and more of the creature’s form is revealed, its body revealed to him inch by inch, allowing him to take it in. 

The creatures skin is an unsettling greenish-grey, with pulsating gills that gasp softly on the sides of its torso and neck. Its impossibly long hair, tangled with leafy plants, creates a curtain around its face that hides its visage in shadows and cascades down its shoulders and into the water, as if it goes on forever. Tim’s eyes trail downward towards where the legs should be, but he finds none. Instead, the creatures body fades into iridescent scales that reflect the moonlight in a kaleidoscope of colors that swirl in his brown eyes. Anything beyond the top half is hidden by the dark water, but he can imagine what those scales become below the surface.

He should be running.

He should’ve been far, far away by now. 

He’s not as afraid as he should be. 

Why isn’t he afraid? 

He doesn’t have time consider the question before the echo of the singing starts to quiet down. It doesn’t go away, no, but it’s morphing into something else…

Tim watches as the creature swims closer, webbed hands reaching out to grasp his thighs with an unexpected gentleness. He sucks in a breath at the creature’s cold touch, the water on its palms soaking through his rolled up jeans. He realizes now that it’s closer that it’s humming, the soft sound buzzing in its throat with the same tune as the echo of the singing before it. 

The humming is far more soothing than it has any right to be. Tim should be fighting this thing off, pushing it away as it leans in to hum right into his ear, its scent of lake water and fresh plants filling his nose, but he can’t. He just can’t. 

The creature’s skin is cool and soft against his own, wetting his cheek with the water clinging to its hair and face. Its chest brushes his for a moment, and he shudders, though not with disgust. His mind is swimming, completely melted into a useless sludge that refuses to form a thought. He knows he shouldbe terrified right now, he should be running for his life, but it’s getting harder and harder to articulate why. 

He breaths deeply, inhaling the creature’s earthy scent as its ghostly voice seeps into the deepest recesses of his brain. 

Oh, God… 

That feels good. 

He can feel the creature, the siren slowly stripping him of his defenses, peeling the armor off of his carefully guarded psyche piece by piece, and he doesn’t know how to stop it. He’s not sure he wants to stop it. The sensation of his will being broken down, chipped away at by a skilled hand with a chisel of forged steel that leaves no room for argument; it’s almost comforting. 

Tim has spent so long fighting…

…Why shouldn’t he just give in this once? 

The thought rattles around his skull and echoes in such a way that he’s aware it wasn’t entirely his idea, but he doesn’t care. It’s a beautiful epiphany. 

His vision is starting to blur. Most of his senses, in fact, are dulling at what should be an alarming rate. The only thing left in tact, maybe even amplified, is his ability to feel. 

The siren’s touch is intoxicating. 

He’s starting to lose himself. 

Tim shudders as something warm and wet slides over his neck, moving in a manner that is far too articulated. The siren pulls back, licking its lips, and for a moment Tim thinks he can see it mouth the word ‘delicious.’ 

The siren leans in again, this time for a slow kiss on the lips. Tim is stunned at the gesture, but can’t stop himself from kissing back. It’s almost a subconscious action, a base instinct activated by the siren song buzzing in his head. 

The kiss is far from brief, but it doesn’t last nearly long enough to satisfy Tim. He leans forward to try and follow the siren as it pulls away, but it pushes him back with a gentle hand and a cheeky grin. It playfully wags a finger, silently scolding him with only a look from those piercing eyes. 

The siren starts to move lower, and for a moment Tim is afraid it’s about to dive back into the lake, never to be seen again, but instead it stops once it’s at eye level with his groin. Tim sucks in a breath, which only makes the siren’s grin grow wider. Tim catches a split second glance of the shiny teeth that are kept behind its upturned lips. 

The siren’s webbed hands slide inward from where they rest on Tim’s thighs, lazily meandering to the buckle of his belt. The siren’s humming doesn’t cease for even a moment as its nimble fingers slip his belt from the buckle and then from the loops of his jeans with an unnatural grace. It sets the belt to the side on the dock, right next to his boots, making it clear that Tim won’t be needing it anymore. 

Tim’s breath hitches when the siren pulls his zipper down, moving slowly but with intent. It’s teasing him, he realizes in a fleeting moment of clarity, making him wait for whatever it is it knows he wants. His eyes trail down as the siren tugs his jeans down just a bit, enough to expose his half hard cock as it pushes against his boxers. He didn’t even realized how turned on he was. 

Tim bites his lip as the siren’s agile tongue unfurls from its mouth to lick over the bulge in his boxers. He shivers, barely biting back a moan. He opens his mouth as if to speak, but no words come; there’s only a brief stammer before his lips close again, the eyes of the siren drawing him into silent submission. It hasn’t looked away from his face this entire time, refusing to release his gaze. It holds eye contact even as it leans in again, this time latching onto Tim’s hardening bulge with its lips and suckling it through the fabric of his boxers. 

This time Tim can’t stop the noise that falls from his mouth, a choked sound of pleasure that would surely be humiliating if he had any sense left. Right now all he can think about is how badly he wants more. 

The siren’s hands move again, upwards this time, towards the waistband of his boxers. It hooks its claws beneath the fabric and pulls downward slowly, just enough to release Tim’s now throbbing, needy erection from its confines. He sighs with relief at the feeling. He didn’t realize until now how badly he needed that. 

The siren wastes no time wrapping its tongue around Tim’s length, and this time there’s no stopping the shuddering moan that crawls up his throat. The siren’s tongue is impossibly long, moving with complete control as though it were another limb; it leaves no spot of Tim’s cock untouched, coating every bump and vein with the siren’s cool, thick saliva. Tim’s thighs tremble as he watches the creature pleasure him shamelessly, its tongue coiling around his twitching member and sliding up and down the entirety of his length with intent.

The siren has stopped humming, unable to do so with its mouth occupied, but its song still echoes in the trees around them, keeping Tim docile and needy. 

Hesitantly he reaches up, his hand shaking like a leaf in the wind as he moves it towards the siren. For just a moment a look of intrigue flashes in the creature’s eyes, but it quickly morphs into smug satisfaction as Tim’s fingers find themselves nestled into the siren’s hair. 

The siren’s tongue retracts suddenly. Tim’s eyes widen as a question begins to form in his mind as to why, but it’s promptly stamped out when the siren wraps its lips around his cock and sinks its mouth down on him without hesitation. Tim nearly screams, crying out in shock and pleasure before choking on his own voice. The gills on the siren’s neck flex and breathe as his cock is pushed down its slick, invitingly warm throat. The cavity welcomes him happily, as though it was molded to fit his cock perfectly. 

Tim’s fingers twitch as his grip tightens on the siren’s hair, silently begging for more. The creature complies, running its tongue up and down his length without so much as coming up for air. It uses every part its mouth and throat to stimulate his length with a sharp focus. 

One of the siren’s hands slides off of its resting place on Tim’s thigh. It trails down his leg before leaving his body completely, dipping down into the water. Tim follows it with his eyes curiously, watching as the siren reaches down to lightly rub at a spot on the front of its tail. Tim quirks a brow, but quickly realizes what’s happening as the scales part to reveal a fleshy slit, a sheath from which what Tim can only assume is some kind of inhuman cock slides out. It’s visibly slick, almost slimy, and moves much like the siren’s tongue. He can feel the creature let out a soft noise around his cock as it wraps its hand around its length. It’s pleasuring itself, Tim thinks, pleasuring itself to him. 

The siren’s free hand grasps onto his jacket for balance, keeping it upright as it floats in the water. It’s found a steady rhythm in the way it bobs its head up and down on Tim’s length, slowly pulling back and pushing forward just as the water laps at the shore in a lazy but constant manner. 

Tim’s head falls back as a sudden wave of pleasure washes over him, making his entire body shiver with chills. He wouldn’t be able to take much more of this. 

As if sensing his impending release, the siren’s pace increases. It doesn’t become vigorous or messy, only faster, swifter and even more calculated. The siren seems hyper aware of every move it makes, every muscle it flexes in its mouth and throat to make sure Tim never feels less than the utmost sense of bliss. 

Tim can’t hold back his voice anymore. The soft mewls and desperate moans spill from his lips like a waterfall of debauchery that only seems to fuel the siren’s passion. Tim can’t see it with his head thrown back, but he can hear the splashing of the water getting louder and faster as the siren pumps its own cock with more fervor. 

Tim’s back arches, pushing his cock into the siren’s mouth. The creature takes him so deeply its nose brushes his stomach, but it makes it seem so effortless. It knows exactly what it’s doing, and it’s working far too well. Tim doesn’t have much longer. 

“I’m…I-I’m about to—“ he stammers, struggling to get the words out or even put together a coherent sentence. 

The warning is a trigger for the siren. It pauses suddenly, processing the words for only a moment before it pulls off of Tim’s cock so quickly it almost hurts. Tim jumps and gasps, but doesn’t have even a split second to react before the siren grabs onto his shoulders and pulls him down into the water with it. 

He thrashes in the creature’s hold, but the siren’s tail wraps around his ankles and squeezes tightly. He tries to cry out, but his efforts are punished with a mouthful of lake water that firmly halts any attempt at screaming. The lake around them is nothing more but a dark, merciless void of water without any sign of life. The only light is the dim shine of the moon that pierces the surface of the water and the glowing eyes of the siren. 

Tim pushes against the creature’s hold, but it doesn’t budge. It leans in for another kiss, a rougher one that Tim fights this time, but not for long. 

It’s an odd sensation, the feeling of air being forcefully pumped into his lungs from the siren’s mouth, but it lets him breathe. He can’t complain about that. 

In the next instant the siren’s cock has wrapped around Tim’s, picking up right where it had left off on the dock. Little time was lost, and before Tim knows it he’s already nearing dangerously close to his release once more. He doesn’t dare pull aware from the siren’s lips to warn it, though. Surely it knows. 

Just as he’d figured the siren’s length is slimy, almost tentacle like, sticking to Tim’s own cock as it writhes in coils around it. It’s like nothing he’s ever felt before, making him whimper into the kiss with a need so great it’s overwhelming. The siren isn’t immune to the pleasure either; its gills and scales ripple with its impending climax. 

The siren wraps its arms around Tim, gripping at his hair and the back of his jacket as it holds him in place. It’s so desperate to keep him against it. 

Tim cries out into the kiss one last time before his body tenses, his climax hitting him like a truck as his cock twitches and spurts into the water. The siren lets out an odd noise, almost like a dolphin’s chitter before it follows suit, its length pulsing around Tim’s before releasing as well, the iridescent liquid hovering in the water before fading away into the darkness below them. 

The siren’s cock quickly retracts, unwrapping from Tim’s softening length and pulling back into its sheath. It’s as if it were never there, the parted scales moving back to hide the slit once again. 

The siren slowly pulls away, looking down at Tim with an odd expression. It’s not quite a smile, but it carries a sense of self satisfaction and mischief. 

Tim expects to be let go, even kicking his legs a bit to loosen the grip the siren’s tail has on them, but the hold only tightens. Tim kicks again, trying to pull away, but this only earns him more restraint yet again. The siren pulls him into a deadly hug, slotting his body against its own and wrapping itself around Tim. 

Suddenly its touch is no longer soft and welcoming. Its claws dig onto Tim’s back and shoulders through his jacket, which only serves to amplify his panic. The siren squeezes him, forcing the gifted air out of his lungs. He can only watch it escape to the surface as bubbles, unable to retrieve it. 

His thrashing increases tenfold, but he’s tiring fast. The lack of air combined with his exhaustion and now the siren’s humming in his ear once again is disorienting him. He needs to fight, but his body is rapidly losing the will to do so. He’s only a man, and a man has limits. 

He resists the urge to gasp as water starts to leak into his mouth. He’s losing strength by the second, not only from his body straining but also from the siren’s song draining his energy. His panic turns to pure terror as the black spots start to fill his vision. 

The siren won’t let go.

He can’t fight anymore. 

This was a trap. 

This was all a trap. 

He’s going to die here. 

No, no, no— 

The water is filling his lungs rapidly now as his fear overrides his rationality. He’s screaming as much as he can beneath the surface of the lake, using the last of his strength to fight, but he knows it’s pointless. It’s only bringing more water in. His vision is darkening fast, and soon the little sliver of moonlight he had is gone. All he can do is listen to the sound of the siren’s humming, but then that is starting to fade out. 

No, no, no, no! 

Please, God, no…

But God doesn’t come to help, and the siren’s song is barely audible as Tim’s body stills and goes limp. 

This is it. 

He’s sinking into something dark, now, something beyond his consciousness. It’s an indescribable feeling, but an absolute one, one that speaks of eternity and a horrible permanency. 

For a moment he’s aware of his own fate, his own death… 

…And then he’s coughing up water onto the sand, the bright morning sun burning his eyes. 

He turns over into his side, getting onto his hands and knees as he forcefully hacks up the lake water in his lungs. 

The fresh air is a godsend, quickly pushing the water out and taking its place. Tim can finally take a deep breath without drowning. 

He’s back on dry land, and alive… 

…but how?

He’s still dizzy, he doesn’t dare stand up yet, but he does look around in confusion. The sun has finally risen, that much is obvious; it’s warm and bright on his face, almost jarringly so. He can even hear birds chirping in the trees above him. The woods have suddenly come to life, but what feels like only an hour ago it was completely devoid of anything living. 

Did all of that…really happen? 

He has no idea.  

He looks down at himself and realizes he’s still missing his shoes, socks, and belt. His jeans are still rolled up to his knees, and his clothes and hair are completely soaked, as evidenced by the water that drips down his forehead, legs and hands. The zipper of his pants is still down, exposing the black fabric of his boxers.

His missing clothes are nowhere to be found next to him on the shore. 

Slowly his eyes trail down the lake to the dock. He squints as he looks closely, searching for the proof that that thing was real… 

…And there they are. His boots, socks still rolled up inside, and his belt, sitting at the edge of the dock.

Right where he’d left them. 

He stumbles to his bare feet, trudging down to the dock to retrieve his things. His boots and socks are shockingly dry, but that’s certainly not a bad thing. It’s a small comfort that he more than deserves.

He slips them back on, they looks down at his belt. For some reason, he hesitates to pick it up. He makes himself lean down to grab it, though, and takes a moment to inspect the leather in his hands.

It’s untouched. No sign of damage or wear and tear at all. 

He sighs as he zips his jeans back up and pulls the belt through the loops, fastening it back in place around his waist. 

He’s going to chock this up to this goddamned forest screwing with him. He has to if he wants to keep his mind from breaking in two. It’s the safest, least insane explanation he can give to himself. It’s the only thing he’s prepared to hear. 

The ache in his legs returns as a dull thrum as he resigns himself to continuing his journey. It’s painful to leave behind the solace of the lake, to walk away from the soft sound of the water, but with the day’s light he’ll surely be able to find his way out of here. 

He takes in a deep breath, internally psyching himself up before he dives back into the endless trees. 

Only, this time, they don’t seem all that endless. 

Almost instantly the sound of grass beneath Tim’s boots turns into the crunching of a rocky path. He looks down in confusion, eyes landing on beige, rocky dirt that definitely isn’t a natural formation. 

The trail.

He’s found his way back to the trail. 

His eyes widen as he follows the path into the trees as far as his eyes can see. 

Finally, his endless effort is being rewarded. 

He eagerly starts onto the trail, resisting the urge to run until he collapses. He has time, he reminds himself. The trail is a loop; he’ll get back home sooner or later. 

Finally, he’s free from the terror of these woods. Whatever entity that was keeping him trapped has released him, and he’s not going to question it. 

When he gets home he’ll flop down onto his bed, not even considering changing out of his filthy clothes before he does so. He’ll stare up at the ceiling with teary eyes as he thinks about how happy he is to be back home, back where it’s safe and comfortable. 

Inevitably his thoughts will wander back to the creature he encountered, or perhaps imagined; it’s not exactly something one easily forgets, after all. 

But for now, he’s going home. 

And that’s all that matters. 

mdni & reblog banners by cafekitsune

[moonsanoverthinker]

Hypothetically if I were to make a little ‘sfth out of context’ video to post here which long form should I use first? (I’m not 100% sure when I’ll be able to make it but hopefully soon!)

Also if anyone’s interested in being tagged when the videos actually made lmk <3

[instantpansies]

hiiii so i just started getting into sfth (aka I watched all 3 of the full length shows in a day) but now ive watched the full length shows im not really sure what to watch next, do you have any recommended reading (watching)?

ohohohoHOHO YESSS ONE OF US

ok wow the full length shows are an awesome place to start!! you get a sense of all the different things they do.

if you like the games from the first half, you can't go wrong with any of the others they have posted. my favorites are freeze tag and genre, and they're all really good. the most recent genre is excellent

if you like the longforms, ooough it's really up to you!! you've got 43 now to choose from!!

if you liked beetroots and murder (from huge), you might like the neighbour's under the bed (#21), the evil make-a-wish kid (#25), the milkman (#22), death for a dollar (#43), or the cardboard stegosaurus (#16): family/realism dramas with a lot of heart and character development - except #21 which is mainly just chaos but in a similar vein to beetroots and murder, imo.

if you liked murders in space (from west end big boys), you might like the leftenmost window (#20), burglary and bobsledding (#35), moist and magical (#34), the dark moons of slough (#4), or strange noises from the hole in the wall (#40), along with ones mentioned above: to be honest i'm just going off vibes?? murders in space is not my favorite longform and i haven't seen it as many times. but these are all sort of weird plays with some defined enemy, a confined setting, and/or a supernatural kind of thing going on. idk. tbh murders reminds me the most of beetroots haha

if you liked the detective vs the christmas tree bandits (from jingle boys), you might like no! i always loved that caravan (#14), toby's secret pocket (#36), the midnight mystery (#10), long johns - strike (#5), divorces and teddy bears (#43), or the phantom of hornchurch (#38): these ones feature compelling leads, detective/cop drama, and/or iconic tom and luke duos.

ok that's...a lot. not even all of them!!! my personal favorites are BUS (#12), the oopsie daisy bulge (#7), wild wet and worrisome (#15), the neighbour's under the bed (#21), and strange noises from the hole in the wall (#40). i hope this is somewhat helpful lmao!!!!! enjoy :3

[not-an-idiot]

I just rewatched dark moons of slough (meaning I came up with something new that probably doesnt make sense)

Around minute 8:10 Penelope said she had a very bad omen about the soup competition because of a dream she had, just like Johnny and his future dreams. I don't know when dark moons of slough plays, but do you think it's possible to put it into the family tree? (Absolutely no pressure you don't have to, I just thought about this while rewatching)

updated SFTH family tree!

i've created a new post so that it is easier for me to explain all the little bits and bobs involved :)

thank you to not-an-idiot for helping me and for the amazing ideas!! (idk if they're okay with being tagged, but i hope that you see this :) )

here's the overview, more details under the cut!

-

"Big-Dick" has been Arthur's nickname for all his life, and it's his pen name. He is the main source of any and all 'powers' within the family, as he is also able to traverse across the astral plane (he's either immortal or a time traveller, but either way, he dedicates his books to his great-grandson - Samuel 'Big-Dick' Babb-Dailey, which is )

Jonas Langbrook is the manor owner from 'Too Big to be a Jockey'. He loves his nieces on Thomasin's side (Samantha and Sally) and encourages Samantha to spend more time out of the Xavier household by inviting her to come and help in the stables. This is where Samantha and Egbert meet for the first time.

Earl changes his last name because he is ashamed to be associated with his family, especially after Jonas' antics... He is the father from 'Priscilla's Final Petal'.

Annabelle is Priscilla's biological mother, and the child of Inga and Hugh from Marigolds, Bluebells and Hugh (which I haven't watched in ages so if this is incorrect pls tell me!!)

(feasibly, she could be adopted and they are just raising her together bc of societal standards at the time, am not saying it has to be romantic!!)

Samuel is the protagonist from Beetroots & Murder - Samantha and Egbert die when he is young, Sally/Earl are unable to take him in so he gets adopted and moves to Somerset with his adoptive parents, Cyrus and Summer Setchell.

He becomes a single father to James Babb-Dailey (the father from 'The Neighbour's Under The Bed') who is the father of Johnny and Janae, which explains the future dreams. (and if Samantha and Egbert die in a fire, then it kind of adds to the lore)

[rosestar184]

Top 10 Shoot From The Hip Longforms

10- Oh my god is this a joke

Its the 1st play and just pure chaos

9- The Evil Make A Wish Kid

Yeah just a firework of chaos (see what I did there) And Luke's emotional acting at the end while Tom and Aj are just having a normal conversation always gets me

8- The Milkman

Always love a Sam and Luke romance in a play. And the origin of "oos your dad"

7- Strange Noises From The Hole In the Wall

Chaos with a slight bit of context. But how they can improv a story that we write fanfics of while causing chaos still confuses me. I still can't remember my lines for my show.

6- The Midnight Mystery

This again chaos. I think chaos is a running theme with shoot from the hip and Scottish batman and Scottish Robin are an iconic due and aj the king of the police station

5- The Leftenmost Window

love the actual plot lines and still there's chaos also this was the first improv play I watched

4- Dark Moons Of Slough

Yeah this is just funny accents and chaos. But it's one of my favourites. Love the 3 characters at once

3- Toby's secret pocket

this play is just 35 minutes of the boys causing chaos and I love it

2- Moist and Magical

Yeah this is just again chaos and I love it especially the part where the audience member got shouted at. Then sam made a charater based of that

1- The detective V The Christmas tree bandits

I know this only came out yesterday but it's my new favourite. Donnie and frankie are now one of my favourite longform duos

[i-may-be-an-emu]

Fullset

Ashen

Lucas

Egbert (ft. Monologue 😌)

Jamie Oliver (sfth version lol)

I had a refrence for the start of the first one but no others (ref under cut :))

[vitaminseetarot]

PAC: Your January Forecast 🎇❄🦢

Sup y'all, I'm back for the very last PAC I'm gonna write for 2023. By the end of the weekend, we will have shifted to a whole new year, with a new moon close in tow. I'm gonna be honest, this has been a rough year for me, but not without its bright spots. Like the birth of this blog, for one! I'm already planning the 1 Year Special.

The plan is only to expand from here to see what more there is to do! There was a lot I wanted to do this year but didn't get around to doing because of life, so I have a lot lined up for January.

Thank you for your support this past year in helping my blog grow! The circle is small, but each like and reblog makes a difference, especially to newcomers like me.

Please choose your swan ornament below to find out about how your January will look for the new year. Instead of Tarot today, I'll be using my Black Salt Lenormand deck and Astro Dice to get details along with oracles for advice.

Pile 1 - Black Swan Pile 2 - White Swan Pile 3 - Gold Swan

Pile 1 - Black Swan

Death, Sun; 49. Sun A♦, Cross 6♣, Crossroads Q♦; Uranus, 11th House, Aquarius

Hi, pile 1! Hope you're feeling alive and well for 2024. I kinda called this the "zombie pile" while drawing cause I'm getting this sluggish energy dragging along. Mumbling, creeping, hair disheveled. Goodness, this past year had you wiped out, didn't it? If you're feeling pressured for a resolution, I wouldn't, because for you I think simply sloughing off the old year like snake skin is your main priority for January. I'm hearing Usher's lyrics: "I feel like a zombie come back to life." Maybe you could treat this month like an extended New Year's Eve party. You can't force yourself to be excited for it, but you can slowly build up to it.

There is an emphasis on positive thinking with this pile. You have two Suns from different decks. Doing what brings you simple joy will be healing for you this month. Focusing on little joys can help you shift perspective. Being in the present is very important right now, and you're being asked not to think too much about last year as it will only drain you of further energy. You can't draw healing to yourself if you're spending all your Magic Points on looking backwards for answers. It it feels difficult to be positive, think outside the box at how you can move away from past thinking, like making a vision board for what you most desire to experience this year.

One of the real impressive things about your reading are the dice. You have Uranus, its natural house 11, and its sign Aquarius. Emphasis on CHANGE, much? You know how in movies, where the main character is falling into darkness and has relinquished all hope of being saved, and just as it fades to black someone swoops in to help them while casually laughing off "hah, yeah, I just happened to be in the neighborhood when I saw you falling into an infinite chasm, y'know?"

The word "Deus Ex Machina" is also popping up, or "god out of machine". It's a Latin term referring to an ancient Greek theater technique where a crane would lower an actor dressed as a deity onto the stage during the final act of a comedy, delivering sudden divine intervention and saving the day for the heroes. In other words, there is massive and very unexpected change for you, one that's gonna pull you out of the sluggish stupor of 2023. This is why resolutions aren't important for you now; whatever 2024 will be for you, it's coming in lightning hot and will do that for you.

And I think this change, however large and surprising, will be ultimately wonderful for you. There is so much sunlight emerging from this fog, new life will be breathed in for you by divine planning. It's going to help you work through some of the damage that last year left behind. It will also help you pivot to your next chapter in life. It may feel weird going into a new year with very little expectations, not knowing where you're going to end up next, but it'll be worth it. When the door swings open for you, it will BURST open, so stay on the bright side and focus on regenerating your health for now.

May your new year be shockingly bright, pile 1!

Pile 2 - White Swan

Strength, 25. Sapphire; Garden 8♠, Anchor 9♠, Person A♥; Gemini, 12th House, Pluto

Hello, pile 2! This month will be a quiet one for you, in a good way. This will be a time of retreat for you. If you found yourself being rather social at the end of 2023, expect the new year to start off with a whimper. I see you going into a hermit mode and disengaging from regular activities, especially involving other people. I get the sense that this pile is the type to want to overextend and please everyone around them. If you need a resolution suggestion from me, it's to put the brakes on now before you careen over the edge. January is putting a halt to this behavior.

Yes, you are strong. No, you do not always need to be strong for everybody else. It will wear you thin to even try, and you may end up resentful over it. It's not worth the struggle. I'm not asking you to snap at anyone who comes too close, but consider not adding more of other peoples' errands to your schedule. Consider saying, "actually, I can't go today," without feeling the need to explain why. You have a right to your own personal space away from distractions now.

This pile could belong to a group of people or community that's close to you, which could be going through a lot of hell or has been in the past year. They may have asked a lot from you with few other options. It's made you have to stand up and advocate, at the cost of your own issues being put on the back burner. It is not selfish to walk away for a while and take care of yourself, doubly so if the group in question deals with a lot of arguing and gossip. If it feels bad, trust your gut and keep your distance for now. Don't try to solve big arguments while Mercury is retrograding.

I know how Pluto in the 12th house is, as it's prominent in my chart. Imagine walking downstairs to get to your basement, only for the stairs to never end until you find yourself floating in a weird little wonderland. Somewhere, in that surreal underground mindscape, is a deeply entrenched karmic pattern that may elude you at first. Some shadow work may be required here to dig through the trenches for unpolished gems. If a pesky pattern is repeating in your life, it's time to withdraw and connect to your dreams and subconscious for clues. This pattern may have something to do with this group.

You're actually going to get more progress done by meditating and seeking out nature rather than getting too involved with these issues. The time will come when things can be handled with a clearer mindset. But your higher self is pulling you inward to help ground you through this, to remind you that you are your own amazing being even when you're separate from these people. You have the strength to stand on your own, otherwise there wouldn't be so many folks seeking you out in need. Sapphire wants you to marry your heart with your mind. It's a stone of wisdom guided by compassionate understanding and care. You spin your wheels overthinking an issue, when instead coming back to your heartspace will provide the key.

Take it easy this winter, pile 2, may your dreams give clarity and hope for 2024!

Pile 3 - Gold Swan

Protection, 15. Opal; Bouquet Q♠, Person A♥, Crossroads Q♦; 4th House, Capricorn, Mercury

What's going on, pile 3? Looks like somebody wants to enter hibernation mode, lol. I don't blame you one bit. As the full moon in Cancer has passed and the season changes, there's a strong desire to nestle into the home. Your house will be like your castle for you to improve during this month. You may feel up to redecorating or rearranging furniture to make it feel more cozy or season appropriate as you settle in. Or you may simply desire to clear out old things to decide what to keep.

You may want to do a spiritual cleansing of the house to ring in the New Year, too. Try infusing magic herbs like lemon verbena into your cleaning products, or toss cinnamon outside the front door while ringing a bell to invite prosperity in. A simple incense stick with a very fresh, mild scent like lavender can also do the trick. Does your family have a special trick or recipe they use? Whatever herb and scent combination brings out that "New Year New Me" feeling is best!

I heard loud and clearly, "YOU'RE PROTECTED!" for whomever needs to hear it most. Things might feel shaky and ungrounded at the moment. I wanna wrap a big blanket around y'all. You're being totally protected right now by your guides, so please don't let the uncertainties of 2024 leave your head dizzied. Yes, there's a lot of plans to be drawn out and a lot more work to be done, and you may not know where you're heading next, but perhaps there's a reason we like to begin the year at such a slow quiet time, after all the festivities have passed. It's not sound to start off in a rush.

You're being heavily affected by Sun in Capricorn doubled with the current Mercury retrograde, regardless of your chart placements. This is absolutely not a time for rash decision making, even if it feels you're not being your most productive. Our modern society doesn't like it when workers take a break or listen to their body's needs in any way. It will always have its excuses for its ruthless standards. After a while, though, you have to learn to shrug those expectations off and do what's right for you, or you'll risk burning out before the new year has even started.

Some of you might be thinking of even doing the Dry January trend as part of your resolution. If it's a serious issue, I'd talk to your doctor about how to do it sustainably. If you're already stressed and at risk of burnout, more pressure is not going to help. But a sober month could prove beneficial for you overall. This is not a command for you to have a Dry January if you're not interested; this message is for those who already plan on doing so. Try to take it one day at a time, keep your head free of self criticism, and don't guilt yourself over "cheat days". I will be doing one as well, so please reach out if you need a supporting voice.

Wishing you all the best to come this year pile 3, may you succeed in your resolutions!

This reading has not been evaluated by the FDA to diagnose, prevent, treat, or cure any disease or infection. Please ask your physician before going online.

Cards Used: Black Salt Lenormand, Prism Oracle, Crystal Healing Cards, Astro Dice.

2023, @VitaminseeTarot ™