#festivals seeking volunteers

[cowboyjen68]

Hey Jen, thank you for all you do. I'm a young lesbian (going into my first year of university) and while I've met a few other lesbians in my life and retained a friendship (and I am deeply grateful for her), I worry that there are not many others out there like me. I've never had a girlfriend, and while I don't really feel the need to be in a relationship right now, I can't help but feel a little lonely. I'm worried that my strong opinions will make finding someone I click with even more difficult. Do you have any words of wisdom for a young woman worried there really aren't that many fish in the sea?

I didn't date until I was in my early 20's and i was out of college. I was terrified of being a lesbian and I knew boys grossed me out so I just waited.

In retrospect I was really not ready or that interested in dating while in college. I just felt that i didn't have the time or energy and literally no one really interested me enough to give up my focus on school, friends and coming out (not coming out. Yet everyone and thing (movies, TV, magazines, music etc) was telling me I HAD to date in order to be a "normal" teenager to early 20's women. It took some effort to just not date.

Most of us lesbians feel that our dating is already pretty small and then to have the knowledge (that straight people forget) that we are not attracted physically to all woman. AND even in the group of those we find physically attractive there are even few we share similar values and interests with.

This numbers game can really mess with our heads and panic our hearts. The key is to expand your world as you go. Don't be afraid to attend events or gatherings you are unsure about.

Follow what you are interested in. If you love cats volunteer at a shelter or rescue non profit. Attend their events, take the training. If you love reading lesbian history volunteer at the lesbians or lgbt+ archives at your school or at a place nearby. Start a simple book club or Cat Chat or Dog Discussion for lesbians using the meet up app or good old fashioned black and white fliers.

Attend women's festivals or music venues that feature women singers. Seek lesbians publications of zines on line and subscribe. If you attend a group or event and it is not for you take in that experience and move on.

The more you expand your world the more women you meet and in the meantime you are doing things you enjoy. AND at the end of they day you will have gained knowledge about what you like and dislike about dating, friendships and social situations.

[soulessjourney]

His Love Story

Paring: young!Coriolanus x fem!Reader

Word count: 2.7k

Summary: Coriolanus came to realize what he had lost when it was already too late.

Warnings: ANGST, mentions of cheating, reader throwing things at Coriolanus

A/N: I apologize; unfortunately, the works I promised you for this week will not be posted. I've encountered some issues with my university and have been busy trying to get them to fulfill their responsibilities. However, I wanted to provide you with something to read. I hope this little angsty one-shot serves as a small compensation for what I was unable to post this week. I promise you that the other works will be posted before the end of the year.

The holidays were meant to be festive and warm, so why did Coriolanus feel so cold? The house lay dark, enveloped in an icy chill that seemed to freeze everything within. The once radiant glow of Christmas lights failed to cast their comforting warmth across the rooms of his home. He found himself alone, stripped of your presence—no longer able to hear your declarations of love or your pleading to have him place the star atop the tree, especially after you nearly tumbled from the ladder, too stubborn to seek assistance.

----

"Coryo, please, I really need your help unless you want to witness a first lady take a tumble from this ladder again. I don’t know why you insisted on getting such a massive tree," you grumble, holding the golden star in your hand, while kicking at the ground in front of you, the fluffy socks on your feet sliding against the tile.

Coriolanus raises a brow and lets out a chuckle before stepping forward and gently pressing his lips to your forehead. "I asked if you wanted help and you refused, telling me you'd be able to do it," he shrugs. It was true; you had snapped at him five minutes prior, insisting you could place the star at the top of the tree without his help. You knew Coriolanus wouldn’t assist until you fluttered your eyelashes and asked him nicely, but being you, that was unlikely to happen.

The two of you were hosting a grand holiday celebration as in previous years, and Coriolanus had suggested getting a large tree for the foyer, so it would be the first thing guests saw upon arrival. At the time, you loved the idea. However, now that you volunteered to decorate it, thinking it would be a great way to spend time together, regret was creeping in. "Please, I don’t think my ankle can take another leap off the ladder to save my life," you grumble, lifting your head once Coriolanus grabs the star with a laugh.

You watch his every move as he scales the small ladder and reaches up to place the star at the top. Once he's back on the ground, his arms wrap around your waist, and his lips land on your cheek. "The tree looks amazing, Darling. The guests are going to love how beautiful it is," he whispers, brushing your hair back, his eyes softening as he looks down at you.

Smiling up at him, you lean up and pause just before your lips touch his. "The star is crooked. Please fix it before I decide to topple this tree," you hum, patting his chest before turning on your heel to begin decorating the living room, leaving Coriolanus grumbling about how much of a tease you are.

----

Coriolanus stood in the foyer, his gaze lingering on the space where the tree would usually stand. He could still hear the echoes of your laughter bouncing off the walls and recall the moments when you hummed while adorning the tree with ornaments. Yet, those memories seemed to darken abruptly, and he felt a tightening sensation in his chest, prompting him to massage the muscle over his heart in an attempt to alleviate the discomfort. Moving toward the grand hall, Coriolanus glanced at the portraits lining the walls. Each one still held photos of your wedding and some captured moments from when he first became President and you the First Lady. Pausing at the top of the stairs, he halted, allowing his eyes to sweep the room, searching for any sign of life.

---

"Coryo, there you are!" you grin, catching the attention of your husband. Wrapping your arm around his, you tug him down the stairs. "Tigris has been wanting to speak to you, and I’ve had a run-in with the mayor of Two. Don't worry, though; he won't be bothering you until later. I ensured his wife would keep him busy. The Mayors of Five and Eight are also eager to talk to you, and they've made it clear they wish to do it sooner rather than later. About what? I'm not sure; I couldn't get much out of them. They were pretty cryptic," you say, missing the loving gaze aimed towards you as the two of you weave through the crowd.

Coriolanus felt blessed to have a wife as dedicated as you. You were well-versed in politics and adept at handling party guests, much better at welcoming and mingling than he was. He appreciated how you kept him informed about who needed to speak with him or requested his presence, ensuring there were no surprises as the event progressed. Tigris often teased that you were more of a secretary due to how efficiently you organized things for him or rearranged his schedule to accommodate last-minute meetings or events. Though her comments sometimes irked him, you never once complained about assisting him. In fact, when he tried to lighten your workload, you argued that it was your duty as his wife to ensure things were organized so he could come to bed at a reasonable hour.

Coming to a stop, he spins you around and presses his lips against yours, drawing out a surprised gasp. When he leans back, he can't help but grin at your expression, taking your face in his hands. "I am extremely thankful to have you by my side. I know I don’t say it enough, but I do appreciate everything you do for me. I love you," he whispers, leaning down to place a small kiss against your nose, noticing how your eyes well up at his words.

Pulling him closer by his shirt, you plant a small kiss on his lips before looking around. "Go talk to your cousin and then the two mayors. Once you're done, come back to the bedroom; I have a surprise for you," you whisper in his ear, shooting him a sly smile as you slip away from him and head toward your shared bedroom.

---

Coriolanus found himself standing in the center of the tiled floor, the very spot where you both had been not long ago, vivid memories flooding his mind. His skin still tingled from your touch, and his lips retained the sensation of where you had kissed him before slipping away to your room. Shaking his head, he stormed out of the room, catching the eye of one of the maids as he walked past.

"Close it off, tear it apart, rebuild it—I don't care what you do. I don’t want to see that room anymore," he snapped, forcefully making his way past the maid and toward your shared bedroom. Even this space wasn’t a sanctuary. He hadn't touched a single thing since the night you stormed into the room, consumed by embarrassment and rage. He hadn't dared enter that room since things between you both began to unravel because of a foolish mistake.

The shattered flower vase you had thrown still lay beside the window, its fragments mingling with the wilted roses scattered on the floor. Your green gown lay discarded, adorned with the diamond earrings placed delicately nearby. The necklace rested in a heap next to the cracked mirror on the opposite side of the room, evidence of the impact from the small piece of metal. That night, he had been oblivious to where that argument would lead because deep down, he had refused to believe he could ever lose you.

---

Coriolanus couldn't process the force with which the door had flung open, slamming against the wall, surely leaving a small hole from the impact of the door handle. Suddenly, a flower vase filled with white roses hurtled towards him, leaving him little time to react before it crashed against the wall, shattering into fragments on the ground.

"Y/N, what the hell was that for?!" he yelled, turning towards you, anger flashing in his eyes. However, the sight before him halted any further words. There you stood, shoulders hunched, body trembling with quick breaths. But what concerned him more were the angry tears streaking down your cheeks, leaving a trail of eyeliner and mascara in their wake. Your clenched fists and tense jaw spoke volumes as you glared at him.

"I've given you the benefit of the doubt, Coriolanus Snow. I've tried being patient because you've been so engrossed in the Games, but tonight? It was the last straw. You've been distant, and it’s been a month since you touched me. Not a single brush of contact," you declared, standing taller while Coriolanus felt himself inwardly shrinking in response to your fury.

"You promised me you'd make a speech. You knew how long I worked on this campaign to help these kids have a better life. But you never showed up, and all they could talk about was how this wasn’t your priority," you snapped, tearing off your dress and tossing it aside along with your earrings.

Coriolanus stood frozen, mentally reworking his schedule before realization struck him. You had been devoted to this project for over a year, aiming to provide less fortunate children in the capital with an equal educational opportunity at the academy to build their reputations. You had poured your time and effort into tutoring these children and forging partnerships, neglecting your own home life. Tonight was the culmination of your hard work, and Coriolanus had promised to be there to support you. But he had forgotten.

"I'm sorry, Y/N. I truly meant to be there, but I got caught up with Evadne. Did they approve your project?" he asked, tentatively approaching you.

You scoffed bitterly. "No, Coriolanus, they didn’t. They laughed me out of the room. Why approve a project my own husband wasn’t there to support, as he promised? A year and a half of work down the drain, and children’s futures ruined because you got caught up with your assistant." Arms crossed, you turned away, your voice softening. "You've been spending more time with her lately. Is there something going on between the two of you?"

Something flared in his eyes before he clicked his tongue, shaking his head. "She's been around more, almost seeming more like my wife."

His words hung heavy in the air, and you fell silent, your breaths slowing before you ripped off your necklace and hurled it across the room, ignoring the distant sound of breaking glass. "Y/N, please, I—" he started, but your glare silenced him.

Retreating into the closet, you grabbed your clothes and slipped into a nightgown before heading for the door. "We can sleep in separate rooms since you don't see me as your wife anymore, especially after I've been working so hard for change. Talk to me when you come to your senses, Coriolanus," you murmured quietly before leaving the room, your back turned to him.

---

After that fateful night, something irreparable fractured in your relationship. Arguments became more frequent, often ending in both of you retreating to your respective corners for the rest of the day. The rift widened when you accidentally discovered Coriolanus's infidelity through Tigris. She inadvertently let slip about Coriolanus and Evadne during a lunch together. Her realization dawned too late, assuming you had already known about their affair. That revelation shattered something within you, causing you to shut down completely, intensifying the growing distance between you and Coriolanus.

Before long, you found yourself restricted within your own home. All work was mandated to be completed in your office, conveniently situated down the hall from his. You were forbidden to leave for lunches with Tigris, who was now only permitted to visit you at home. Coriolanus confined you due to his selfish reasons, leaving you feeling trapped and adrift. He foolishly believed that keeping you isolated at home would prevent you from leaving.

As he stepped into your closet, many dresses he had gifted you hung there, but one solitary item remained. It was a sweater that belonged solely to you. It was the same sweater he often found you wearing during the early hours of the morning, curled up in a chair in the dining room with a book and a cup of coffee. It became the last tangible link he had to you and, unexpectedly, his most cherished possession.

---

Seated at the dining table, you absentmindedly toyed with the ends of your sweater, awaiting Coriolanus's arrival. It marked the first time in weeks that you'd had a conversation with him, and he had promptly agreed to talk once he finished sorting through his papers. As Coriolanus entered the room, a pang of familiarity struck him; it felt reminiscent of old times when he'd find you in that very sweater, engrossed in a book. Yet, things were starkly different now. No book graced the table, and you seemed diminished in the sweater, the atmosphere devoid of the warmth it once radiated.

Sitting across from you, Coriolanus nervously wiped his hands on his pants and cleared his throat. "You mentioned wanting to speak with me. I apologize for the delay; we encountered funding issues for the upcoming fundraiser at the academy, so I had to make some calls," he said softly.

You appeared transformed from the vibrant person he had known. Your complexion was paler, your eyes lacked their former vivacity, and your hair, no longer meticulously styled, was gathered into a simple bun, stray strands framing your face. Most noticeably, your lips, once adorned with a perpetual smile upon seeing him, now curved into a permanent frown. You were no longer the same, and he knew it was his doing.

"I know about your affair with Evadne," you murmured quietly, your gaze drifting down to the ring on your finger. Coriolanus stiffened at your words. "Don’t concern yourself with her; I dismissed her as soon as I found out. I’ve been managing your schedule, just like old times."

Coriolanus looked down, nodding slowly. "It was a regrettable mistake, one that should never have happened. I have no excuse, and I apologize. I'll do whatever it takes to prove I'll never hurt you like that again," he pleaded, halting as he noticed your lack of response.

"This isn’t about your infidelity, Coriolanus. For months, we haven’t shared a bed, barely breathing the same air until now. I've tried to give you space, but you've become consumed by your work that I don't even get a glance anymore. I wouldn't bring this up unless I felt it necessary. I’ll offer you a choice: me or drowning yourself in your work," you spoke softly, twirling the ring on your finger.

Coriolanus remained silent for a moment, contemplating his next words. "I can't sacrifice my work, Y/N. I'm the President of Panem; everything hinges on me, you know that," he responded quietly. His gaze fixed on your hand as you slid off your ring and pushed it towards him. He had made his choice, and it shattered you more than you believed possible.

You hadn't expected him to relinquish his position. In truth, you had hoped he'd recognize the perfection of your life together when he balanced his personal and professional life. But he was so far gone that your once-private life had disintegrated. You loved Coriolanus dearly, but in the end, this was the best for both of you.

---

Coriolanus removes the sweater from the hanger, clutching it tightly to his chest, then presses it close to his face, inhaling its familiar scent. Crumpling to the ground, he clings to the garment, still redolent of roses and lavender. The fragrance of roses, his doing, a constant presence around you, reminiscent of moments when you tended to the flowers in the rose garden. The lavender, your choice, believed to alleviate the stress that often burdened you. He cherished the scent, often burying his nose in your hair to catch the calming aroma of lavender, a solace during his stressful work times.

Tears trickled down his cheeks, escalating into audible sobs as reality sank in. It had been months since you departed, and Coriolanus, preoccupied with work, attempted to fill his days to avoid noticing your absence. Yet, with the approaching holidays, he couldn’t ignore that you wouldn’t be there to greet him with tender morning kisses or engage in playful debates over home decorations. You were gone, and he had lost you. This, he realized, was his love story—a narrative that ended in losing you. Despite his efforts to locate you, you had vanished into thin air, taking his heart with you.

---

A/N: While writing this, I kept listening to 'Love Story' on repeat, and suddenly, the song felt much more heavier and beautifully sad. I hope you enjoyed reading this one-shot, my holiday gift to you. I promise to diligently work on the next parts of my projects and get them up as soon as possible

Tags: @andwhatofthelight @sabrinasbd @snowlandstop @obsesseddd @quicksilversg1rl @runningfrom2am @weeeoosworld @poppyflower-22 @butlersluvbot @lugiastark @alana4610 @i-love-ptv

[sleepingdayaway]

idk if requests are still open, but if so, would you be willing to do some more player!reader and oot/mm young Link with a big/little sibling or parent/child kind of relationship? Not necessarily in a LU or HW context but can be if u wanna. If requests are in fact closed feel free to disregard this lol. Love your writing! <3

JHDFHBEFVINEW I LOVE MAJORA'S MASK LINK SMMM HE'S MY SON

I can definitely do a stand alone version!! Sometimes it's nice to just gush about Majora's Mask! Also thank you for reading my silly stories, I'm so glad you and others are enjoying <33 I'm sorry if it's short and yknow just realized I can never make him be happy, sorry it's how I show affection.

The blood in his ears is roaring as the young boy tries to get his breathing under control as he stares up at the Clock Tower. In a few hours he'll have to go up and face the Skull Kid again, but this time he won't have to play the Song of Time again just to prepare. The boy feels his throat swell up just by thinking about it. His vision on the edge of blurring as he tries to will the tears away.

He's nervous yet he shouldn't be, this fight is nothing compared to his battle with Ganon. At least, he didn't fail this town for 7 years. Except Ganon was a battle that was determined for him long before he was born, this one was something that was just thrown upon him. In his heart he can't allow these people to die by the falling moon.

His view of the clock tower is ruined by the tears he tried desperately not to let fall. He's stuck as a 10 year old even if mentally he was no longer the fairy boy that began this journey. Barking from the wild dog in the square isn't helping with his mood, nor is the loud voices of the construction workers as they prepared for the festival. Some stubborn to pretend that their home wouldn't be destroyed by the grinning moon.

Until the sound of footsteps coming closer to him causes him to tense up, and attempt to wipe the tears away. A shadow is cast over his face as it goes down as the person gently guides his face lower to face them. His tears freely fall down his cheeks as his smaller hands clutch the ones holding him. Link's eyes open to look at the person who's kneeling in front of him.

A soft smile is on their face once Link's eyes has opened up. [Name] stares down at him fondly; there is no hint of disgust nor any emotion of exasperation on their face. In all honesty, they were getting a bit worried about him since this entire journey he was putting on a brave front.

That's right.

[Name] has been exploring with him from the moment he entered Termina as a Deku Scrub. He remembers meeting them for the first time inside the Clock Tower with the Happy Mask Salesman, an eccentric man, who would help Link, return to how he was, in return for his mask. [Name] was there with them and volunteered to assist Link in collecting it; their excuse was that it would be better if he had a helping hand. although tatl would disagree at first.

Link was unsure of [Name] when they left the tower. He didn't know if they joined, purely for the thought of wanting to help him, or because they had alternative motivations. But it was shown that they did wanted to help him without anything in return. Assisting in playing hide-n-seek with the Bomber gang, and exploring the Astral Observatory.

When the first three days were ending and they stood side by side, staring up at the Skull Kid watching as he called the Moon closer, did an idea form in his head. Using the ability of the deku; he struck at the imp and was able to obtain his ocarina. Link quickly holds onto his instrument and is about to play until he stops to stare at [Name].

[Name] was smiling at him and for a moment he's reminded of ----

His breath hitches as he realized who they were, and why their voiced sounded so familiar. He slowly pulls away from the ocarina, but they speak up, "Don't falter now, Link. I'll be with you from the beginning. Save Termina."

Upon his return and being able to return as a human did he actively seek them out and dragged [Name] around in search of the four giants across the land. From exploring the swamp, and helping the monkey prove his innocence, to saving the Deku Princess from the temple, and fighting the boss. Did [Name] stuck through with him, and was quite adept at the bow and arrows they arrived with.

Link never questioned how [Name] remembered the first cycle, nor did he ask if they remembered his first journey; too afraid that they'll react negatively. So once more they explore the land together and they're together for every cycle until they were ready to face Majora. Enjoying the presence of a someone he once thought was lost forever.

But each cycle wears him down. The never ending thinking and planning about what is needed to do next. When Link acquired the bomber's notebook and realized that the people of Termina has regrets that hasn't been recovered. He placed the burden of the people's wishes on his shoulders with the intent of making sure that when he leaves. The people are happy.

Yet here he stands crying out for comfort as his own mask of strength crumbles. [Name] soothingly running their hand through his hair as they hummed the Song of Healing for him. Link clutches onto their clothes as he openly weeps. He mourns Hyrule for the 7 years he was gone, he mourns Saria, the Deku Tree and the children of the korkiri forest, his home. The childhood that stripped away from him the moment he chose to save Hyrule.

Finally, he mourns the feeling of [Name] leaving him when his journey ended. Leaving him alone and become desperate to leave just to search for them. Link lost the only person he could truly call family and has now reunited again, but for how long?

So, Link plays the Song of Time.

He takes them back to the Dawn of the First Day.

He just wants to spend more time with them.

For once, the world can wait three more days.

When he opens his eyes; he's back at the entrance of Clock Tower as Tatl is shouting at him about why he decided to go back in time. Link ignores the temperamental fairy and carries himself over to [Name]. Who waits for him, without fail, in the area where the Great Fairy resides. The same accepting and knowing smile on their face as they embrace the young boy with open arms.

[carharttlesbian]

What is RISE?

Reigniting Intergenerational Sisterhood Everywhere

Are you interested in building intergenerational lesbian community? Are you a feminist seeking to make change? Do you want to spend a week in the woods with sisters from all walks of life? Join us at RISE.

What does sisterhood mean to you? The gathering is designed around community dialogue and learning from each other: we differ in age, race, class, ability, life experience, and opinions. Workshops will include topics in intergenerational lesbian community-building, organizing for change, intersectional feminism, and preserving lesbian cultural heritage. We aim to build trust through open sharing and respectful listening in this focused, intimate setting. Aside from the core programming, RISE offers the chance to bond in person with other women during concerts, dances, movies, coffeehouse open mics, skill-shares and swaps. We each bring our energy and gifts to the Land and leave with new friends, skills and ideas. We are participant-driven. If you want to see something happen here, create it!

WPI-RISE

RISE is sharing our week on the Land with WPI music camp for women and girls. All performances and RISE workshops will be open to everyone attending either festival; if you want to attend WPI music classes, you'll need a WPI ticket.

Tickets

Getting your ticket is a 2-step process. First, registerat tinyurl.com/RISE24reg— once you're registered, you'll receive an email from RISEontheLand2020s@gmail.com with the link to purchase your ticket at Goldenrod. The standard rate is $325: sliding scale options & payment plans available (just ask).

Volunteer Opportunities

We have several opportunities for organized women to help with various aspects of RISE. In particular, we're currently looking for sisters to MC a coffeehouse open mic, to help make & serve beverages in our festival coffee shop, and for one more on-call conflict mediator. Email RISEontheLand2020s@gmail.com with your interest & experience. We are also still soliciting workshop & discussion leaders. What topic would you like to bring to RISE? Sign up to lead a workshop or discussion here: tinyurl.com/RISE24workshop

[whumpdoyoumean]

Whumptober #10

xxx blow to the head

"How am I just now learning that you're actually a pretty good artist?" Buck says, looking over at the butterfly Eddie is painting on a little girl's face.

"You think so?" Eddie says, tilting his head to one side as he scrutinizes his work.

"Are you a good artist?" the boy seated in front of Buck asks, and Buck's cheeks go warm as he looks at the green blob he's painted that only vaguely resembles a turtle. Chim snickers and Buck does his best to ignore him.

"Y-yeah. I mean." He swallows, shrugs. "Yeah."

The boy doesn't look convinced. Buck smiles at him, grabbing a smaller brush and putting two black dots for the turtle's eyes. They're different sizes, and a little lopsided, but maybe cute? He sets the brush back and leans back, clapping his hands together.

"All done!"

"I wanna see!" the boy cries.

"Oh, uh. I don't think--"

"Here's a mirror, pal," Chimney says, handing a small mirror to the kid and shooting a smirk in Buck's direction.

The boy looks at his reflection, eyes narrowed. Buck is embarrassed at how much he cares what this random six year old thinks, but he can't help it as he practically holds his breath waiting for the kid's response.

"That doesn't really look like a turtle," the boy finally says, "but I still like it."

"You know what, I'll take it!" Buck says. He holds up his fist and the kid grins, balling up his hand into a tiny fist of his own and bumping his knuckles against Buck's before sliding off of his stool and running off to check out one of the other attractions.

The 118 had volunteered to participate at one of the big autumn festivals this year. The engine is all decked out with fake spider webs and bats, and there's a bucket of candy and stickers to hand out to any kid that wants to check out the fire engine and listen to a little spiel on fire safety. What they had not volunteered for was face painting, but the two people who originally signed up canceled last minute. Buck still isn't sure how he, Eddie, and Chim ended up being the ones to get assigned in their place. He is sure that Hen owes him one.

His stomach growls loudly and he looks down at his watch. It's almost noon. Lunchtime. There aren't any kids waiting in line to have their hands or faces painted, so Buck stands.

"I think I'm ready for those donuts we were promised," he says. "I'll check in with the others first, see if they want some, too."

"Hey, wait a minute," Chim protests. "Why do you get to go on the donut run?"

"Because I thought of it first?" He grins and claps Chimney on the back. "Don't worry, you're doing great."

He leaves before Chim has the chance to argue. The engine is parked down toward the other end of the farm, but he really doesn't mind the walk. It's a perfect day – sunny, mid-70s, startlingly blue, cloudless sky, just a slight breeze. It's not as classically autumnal as Pennsylvania gets this time of year, but he just can't bring himself to miss that place.

He's almost to the engine when he sees someone look around and then duck under one of the ropes that acts as a boundary for the areas that aren't open to the public. He doesn't get a good look at them--they've got a baseball hat on, and their hood is pulled up in a way that obscures their face--but they've got a small frame that makes Buck think it's probably a teen. There's all sorts of dangerous farm equipment back there that could cause serious injury, especially to a dumb, thrill-seeking kid. Probably he should tell someone that works here, but the only employees he sees nearby at the moment are bored-looking high schoolers.

So he makes the monumentally stupid decision to follow. It's not even a decision, really. One second he's just standing there, watching, and the next he's moving, away from the fire engine and his coworkers and away from the crowd as he trails after the shadowy figure. Said shadowy figure ducks behind an old barn, out of sight, and Buck slows.

"Hey," he calls. "Hey, you're not in any trouble. Not from me, anyway. I just wanna make sure you're being safe..."

He rounds the corner and startles. The person in the hoodie is standing perfectly still a few yards away, their back to Buck, and they don't respond to his presence. The hairs on the back of Buck's neck stand, and the concern he'd had for the stranger's well-being is suddenly replaced by an overwhelming sense of danger.

“Hey,” Buck says, voice quivering a little now as he takes a cautious step forward.

He doesn’t have a chance to react before the person turns, swinging something at the side of Buck's head, and everything goes black.

xxx

“What’s taking Buck so long?” Chimney says. “I’m starving, I need those donuts!”

Eddie hadn’t really thought about it, but Buck has been gone a while. He stands, stretching as he does. “He probably started talking with the others and lost track of time. I’ll go get him.”

“Be quick. As much as I hate to admit it, Buck was right. You're good at this.”

Eddie snorts. Glancing around to make sure there aren't any kids nearby, he leans in. “I'm not that good, you guys just both suck."

Chim lets out a psh andpushes at Eddie's shoulder. "Get out of here!"

Eddie laughs, heading off toward the engine. As he gets close, though he's surprised to find that Buck is nowhere to be seen.

“Hey, Eddie,” Bobby says. “You guys doin’ okay over there?”

“Yep, Chim has only made one kid cry so far so I definitely count that as a win…Hey, have you seen Buck?”

Bobby’s eyebrows twitch into the barest hint of a frown. “I thought he was with you.”

“He left to get some apple cider donuts, like, twenty minutes ago,” Eddie says. He isn’t sure why, but there’s a feeling of unease settling over him. It’s completely baseless and feels a little silly so he does his best to ignore it. “He said he was gonna come ask if you wanted some first. He hasn’t been by?”

Bobby shakes his head. “No, he hasn’t.”

“Did you check the donut line? They’ve been busy all day,” Hen says. "He could've decided it would be better to go ahead and get in line and then ask if we want some."

“The vendor said she had some set aside for us so that we could skip the line,” Eddie says. “But yeah, it’s possible he ended up waiting, anyway. I’ll go check.”

“Good,” Bobby says. “Let us know if you find him.”

Eddie nods. “Will do, Cap.”

He makes his way over to the donut stand, keeping an eye out for Buck as he goes. He doesn’t see any sign of him, though, and the unsettled feeling grows. He walks up to the window, drawing many annoyed stares from the long line of people.

“Hey!” the vendor, a teenage girl named Lane says with a big grin. “You here for your donuts?”

“Buck didn’t come by to get them?” Eddie says, and she shakes her head.

“No. I haven’t seen Buck since you guys first got here. I’ve got your donuts right here for you, though!”

“That’s okay, I’ll get ‘em later.” Eddie flashes a smile. “Thank you.”

Eddie shoves his hands in his pockets and walks back to the engine. Bobby and Hen both look up.

“No Buck?” Bobby says, and Eddie shakes his head.

“Nuh-uh…” He takes a deep breath. “Look, I know it’s going to sound kinda weird, but I’ve got this feeling I can’t shake.”

“What kind of feeling?” Bobby says slowly, frowning.

Eddie shrugs. “I don’t know, most likely it’s nothing but just…something feels off. He should’ve been back by now.”

“You know Buck. I'm sure he just got distracted by something. But if you’re worried, I can help you look for him.”

“Yeah, I’ll stay back with the engine,” Hen offers. “It’s not too busy right now since the haunted hayrides started.”

“Thank you,” Eddie says. “Again, it’s probably nothing but I want to make sure.”

“Hey, it's not a problem," Bobby says. "I’ll head toward the corn maze if you wanna go let Chim know what’s going on and then maybe check the bathroom?”

Eddie nods gratefully. “Sounds good.”

He scans the crowd for Buck as he jogs back toward Chimney, listens for the familiar sound of his voice, his laughter. But there’s no sign of him.

“Hey, Eddie! You got some donuts for me?” Chim calls as he approaches. “Where’s Buck?”

“I’m not sure. Bobby is helping me look for him. You’re on your own for a few more minutes.”

Chim’s face falls. “Wha--Oh, come on! I just made another kid cry!”

Eddie pats him on the shoulder. “Thanks, Chim. If Buck shows up, call me or the cap."

"Sure," Chimney says, brow furrowing. "Is something the matter?"

"I hope not," Eddie murmurs, heading toward the main building.

The big red barn is pretty packed. It's where the cash registers are for anyone who wants to buy produce or flowers from the farm, or tickets for the hay ride. He keeps an eye out as he works his way over to the bathroom.

"Buck?" he calls as he shoulders the door open. There's no answer, though, and the only occupied stall opens a second later. A teenage boy wearing an apron walks out, glancing over at Eddie as he walks to the sink. Eddie is about to apologize and leave when the kid speaks.

“Hey, are you looking for that other firefighter? The one with the scar over his eye?”

Eddie turns. “It’s a birthmark. But uh, yeah. Yeah, I am. Have you seen him?”

The teen nods. “I saw him going toward the cider barn a little while ago. Thought it was weird since only employees are allowed in there. Like, adult employees, I mean.”

“The cider barn?” Eddie says.

“Yeah, it’s the barn where they make the cider.”

“Where is it?”

"It's down at the end, kind of close to where the firetruck is, actually."

"Thank you," Eddie says, already pulling the bathroom door open.

It doesn't take him long to find the barn, set back a ways from the bustle of people. He glances around before ducking under the rope and breaking into a sprint. He gets up to the doors and frowns. They're padlocked from the outside.

"What the hell?" he murmurs. What was Buck even doing back here? Not going inside the cider barn, clearly. He decides to take a quick look around anyway, just in case there's something he's missing.

His phone buzzes and he pulls it out. A text from Bobby reads, Corn maze employee didn't see him. Any luck?

Eddie is tapping a response when he rounds the corner to the back of the barn. He glances up for a second, then does a double take, his heart leaping into his throat.

"Buck!"

Buck is lying face-down on the ground, and there's blood pooling on the ground underneath his head and covering the right side of his face.

"Oh my god," Eddie breathes rushing forward and crashing to his knees. He pushes the fingers of his right hand under Buck's jaw. With his left, he calls Bobby.

"Hey, Eddie," Bobby says a second later. "You find him?"

"Yeah, Cap. We're gonna need an ambulance and – and probably police as well."

"What?" Bobby's voice is sharp. "What happened?"

"I don't know, I just found him unconscious. Heartbeat's steady, but his head is bleeding pretty bad. I think--" He takes a deep breath, fighting back a wave of nausea. "I think someone must've attacked him. I need Hen and Chim here. Tell them we're behind the cider barn."

"K. We'll be there in just a minute, Eddie, hang tight."

The line goes dead and Eddie sets his phone down, turning his full attention to Buck. He puts a hand on his back and gives him a shake.

"Buck?"

Buck groans a little.

"Buck, you with me?"

Buck's eyes move beneath the lids, and then his lashes flutter, eyes opening a crack. He winces immediately.

"Ow. What happened?"

Eddie wishes he knew. "You got hit in the head," he says. "Do you know where you are?"

"I – uh...I don't know."

"We're at the autumn festival," Eddie says.

"Oh," Buck murmurs. "...With Christopher?"

Eddie's chest tightens. Shit. Buck is definitely concussed, but already it's worse than he thought. "No, no. Not with Chris. The 118 came to help out, remember?"

"Oh," Buck says again. And then, "What happened?".

"You hit your head, Buck," Eddie says gently.

"Eddie?"

He looks up at the sound of Chim's voice. "Back here!"

Chim and Hen round the corner, Chimney with the med bag in hand. His eyes widen as he lays eyes on Buck.

"Whoa."

"Hey, Buck," Hen says as she and Chim join Eddie on the ground next to Buck.

"Hen?" He sounds confused. "What're...what happened?"

"That's the third time he's asked that," Eddie says, voice low, and Hen looks up at him. Eddie swallows. "He's, uh. He's pretty confused."

"Okay," Hen says. She looks a little shaken, but nods. "Okay, Chim, let's get a c-collar on him, just in case."

"Did you see anything?" Chimney asks as he and Hen fit the c-collar around Buck's neck.

"No," Eddie says. "But this didn't just happen. Someone did this to him." Anger is starting to permeate the fear, a roiling heat under the bottom of his rib cage.

"God," Chim breathes. "Who'd wanna hurt Buck?"

"Guys." Hen's voice is firm, and though she doesn't say it, the meaning on her face is clear: Now isn't the time. "Let's get him turned over."

They get him onto his back, and then Chim pulls some gauze out of his bag and presses it against the long gash, a few inches above Buck's right ear. Buck draws in a sharp breath through his teeth, flinching away as much as he can with the c-collar on.

"I know," Chim says, grimacing. "I know that hurts. But I've gotta get that bleeding stopped, bud."

"I'm gonna take a look at your eyes really quick," Hen says. "Can you look straight ahead for me?"

She shines her penlight in each of Buck's eyes. Eddie watches her expression closely, trying to gauge how worried she is (how worried he needs to be).

"Pupils are equal, but sluggish," she says.

"M' head hurts," Buck says. "What's..." He reaches up toward the c-collar, but Eddie grabs his wrist.

"Leave it, Buck," he says. "You've gotta leave that alone until they clear you at the hospital."

Buck blinks slowly. "Eddie?"

"Yeah?"

"What happened?"

xxx

A/N: I actually started this one for Whumptober last year hahaha, this is not karma for what happened at the end of the premiere 😭

[marxistcomedy]

Anyone working in counter-propaganda can testify to a curious experience: we’ll put in hours of careful research collecting an impeccable set of resources that undermines some warmongering narrative, and we’ll eagerly share it with someone who claims to despise racism in all its forms — say, an outspoken opponent of the West’s so-called “War on Terror.” Unexpectedly, we are met with a response that is somewhere between chilly reticence and downright hostility. What’s going on?

From our perspective, we’re offering water to a person who’s self-identified as thirsty, and yet they react as if we were trying to poison them! They turn on a dime to defend the same institutions whose lies they were denouncing just moments before. At this point the sense of pride and accomplishment that comes from seeing through propaganda and putting puzzle pieces together into a satisfying historical account gets brutally transformed into its exact opposite: a sense of crushing defeat. In response to this bitter experience, many researchers — serious people, with plenty of experience reading and writing, and sometimes even of being published! — lash out. They decide that people have been “brainwashed” beyond the point where they can be reached by words or rational appeal. They “realize” that the masters of propaganda have been far more successful than we first imagined: it turns out we’re not David fighting Goliath, we’re more like an ant facing an asteroid.

The same inquisitive nature that first led them to unravel war propaganda narratives begins to feed an even larger psycho-historical narrative, and nihilism takes hold. The tragic cycle begins to appear eternal: innocent, well-meaning, hard-working folks are, time and again, viciously tricked by the scapegoating of a new rogue in the gallery — Indigenous, Black, Spanish, Jewish, Soviet, Vietnamese, Cuban, Serbian, Muslim, Libyan, Syrian, Korean, Venezuelan, Russian, Chinese. Due to the sheer power of propaganda and mass-media, the masses helplessly fall for hatred and volunteer for war, even though it comes at a very high cost to ourselves, our loved ones, and our ideals (religion, environmentalism, etc.). Sadly, the innate human propensity to “hate the Other” seals our fate as a society… or something along those lines.

I am going to argue that this narrative is nonsense. It tries to pass off as universal and eternal something that in reality is particular and ephemeral. In short: Westerners aren’t helpless innocents whose minds are injected with atrocity propaganda, science fiction-style; they’re generally smug bourgeois proletarians who intelligently seek out as much racist propaganda as they can get their hands on. This is because it fundamentally makes them feel better about who they are and how they live. The psychic and material costs are rationally worth the benefits. As for those anti-imperialists who don’t participate in this festival of xenophobia — and here I include myself — we have our own elitist consolation: we accept the tragedy of masses of gullible sheeple falling for cunning propaganda because having overcome it flatters our own intelligence. The more we condemn society’s stupidity, the smarter we feel in comparison.

But am I not just worsening the problem, aggravating our hopelessness, by criticizing the critics in a way that suggests that no one escapes ideological self-flattery? I don’t think so. Paradoxically, it brings us all back to a more even and possibility-rich playing field.

The prevailing populist narrative grants the People (of the West) moral innocence by attributing to them utter stupidity and naivety; I invert the equation and demand a Marxist narrative instead: Westerners are willingly complicit in crimes because they instinctively and correctly understand that they benefit as a class (as a global bourgeois proletariat) from the exploitation enabled by their military and their propaganda (in Gramscian: organs of coercion and consent). We’re not as stupid as we’re made out to be. This means that we can be reasoned with, that there is a way out.

[emphasis mine]

[atskiruma]

you bump into him while looking down at what you were holding, you didn't notice the person in front of you; bumping straight into them (kazuha, dansleif, heizou, childe) GN

his reaction to your pajamas they pay your house a visit and see you in your pajamas, flustered by the exposed skin when they're so used to seeing you in your regular outfit (diluc, xiao, scaramouche, cyno) GN

his reaction to your pajamas (ayato)

snow day snow falls on the ground and you find yourself enjoying it by yourself until someone stumbles upon you (kaeya, ayato, gorou, tighnari) GN

his attempts at courting you he finds himself thinking about you more often, wanting to seek you out consistently, and giving you numerous gifts every day to see you smile (alhaitham, zhongli, diluc, ayato) GN

the maid cafe at the school festival you offered to volunteer at the maid cafe being held in room 3-2 when you realized they needed more employees, you and your friend were having a great time until someone you knew walked in with their friends (alhaitham, xiao, tighnari, heizou) GN

he makes you cry he doesn't usually care about others' feelings, so how was he supposed to know what he did to you was mean? (scaramouche, xiao, albedo, tighnari) GN

[mushroomsie224]

Pick which one was the better episode of the two in your opinion!

Episode summaries for anyone who doesn't properly remember which episodes these are, under the cut.

Cedric's Apprentice

Sofia wants to practice sorcery for her test, so she volunteers to be Cedric's apprentice. Cedic plans to steal her amulet but faces conflicting advice from his parents. When his invisibility potion fails, he teaches Sofia instead. Cedric admits his fear of King Roland, and Sofia helps him impress King Magnus with a magic show. She passes her test and gives Cedric the gold star certificate she received, leading him to change his plans and use his invisibility potion on her rabbit friend Clover.

The Amulet and the Anthem

Sofia brags about singing the Enchancian Anthem at the Harvest Festival, upsetting Ruby and Jade. Her amulet curses her to croak like a frog when she sings or speaks. She seeks help from Cedric, but to no avail. Belle arrives to help and encourages Sofia to make amends. Cedric tries to take Sofia's amulet, but Sofia fixes it by apologising to her friends. The curse lifts, and she joins her friends on stage to sing.

(from Wikipedia)

[tetsuro-wulf]

HANAFUBUKI FESTIVAL 🌸

Saturday, April 27th @ 8:00pm EST | Balmung Yanxia, Plum Springs

Spring has swept over the Far East in the form of the blossoming cherry trees! Join us this year to sit beneath the cherry blossoms with friends, loved ones, and companions and indulge in all spring has to offer. We open the festival with a ceremony that leads into the open market, and the evening closes with a themed play. 🍵

Join the discord to sign-up and get involved! Currently we're seeking; vendors, fortunetellers, geisha, and taxi volunteers: https://discord.gg/YmBHZWxTtf

If you're unable to fly in Yanxia, we will have volunteer taxi services present in Namai awaiting your arrival! 🍡

THE CARRD FOR THE FESTIVAL IS COMING SOON!

Tags for visibility: @mooglemeet @ffxivrp @mateus-rp @balmungrp

[lisbeth-kk]

December moments

Prompts used in this chapter: wrapped up - gift - festive

Preparations are made in both flats at 221 Baker Street. They’re quite different, but that’s to be expected, right?

December 9

Mrs. Hudson is making a list of all the things she must get done the next couple of days. She’ll need to do some shopping, baking, cooking, and luckily John’s volunteered to help making her flat festive with fairy lights and decorating her tree. Her troublesome hip won’t let her climb up on the chairs to decorate around the windows. 

“You really are a gift to both me and Sherlock, dear,” Mrs. Hudson says when they’re finished decorating. 

John, being a proper Brit, clears his throat and rubs his hot neck at this kind of praise. He’s far more comfortable with Sherlock’s compliments than the elderly lady’s heartfelt comments. 

The lady in question, leaves it at that, and just pats John’s arm before he leaves for Tesco. 

***

Upstairs Sherlock has wrapped up the hideous décor John’s bought for the party at the Yard the following evening. All the small packages are going into a gigantic piñata formed as Father Christmas. This is usually something Sherlock would refuse to be a part of, but since John became his lover, Sherlock seems more inclined to go to some rather extensive lengths to please him. Besides, watching the Yard’s finest euphoric over wrapped gifts, for later to be utterly disappointed when they open them to find hideous and tasteless items inside, is something Sherlock looks forward to. 

***

“I have a reputation to maintain, John,” Sherlock huffs later that day when John asks him if he’ll be wearing the Christmas jumper Mrs. Hudson gifted him last year. 

John chuckles, which elicits a smile from Sherlock as well. 

“Yeah, I thought as much. Besides I rather like your tightly fitted suits,” John admits. 

“Do you now,” Sherlock purrs, quite satisfied with the outcome of the conversation. 

“Shut up,” John mutters and seeks Sherlock’s waiting lips.

Read it on AO3

@totallysilvergirl @keirgreeneyes @calaisreno @a-victorian-girl @phoenix27884 @peanitbear @sabsi221b @safedistancefrombeingsmart @gregorovitchworld @helloliriels @topsyturvy-turtely @raina-at

[briarridgerp]

HURRICANE HAX CRASHES BRIAR RIDGE SUMMER MUSIC FEST

On Sunday afternoon, gale-force winds and torrential rain abruptly brought the Summer Music Fest to a halt. Unfortunately, Kacey Musgraves, as the headlining act, wasn't able to get a flight to Briar Ridge in time, due to the weather. With a hurricane warning issued, first responders swiftly shut down the event, urging everyone to seek immediate shelter at Oakland Elementary and Middle School. Upon arrival, everyone was sent to the gymnasium as their gathering point to wait out the storm. First responders assigned various tasks to volunteers to help keep things organized and to divide up the work needed to make sure everyone stayed safe.

OOC DETAILS

Okay, so here's the thing, this is rp. And therefore we are taking some creative liberties with how realistic this will be. So please keep that in mind. If you have experience with hurricanes and any part of this is wildly unrealistic, please bear with us! lol

With that being said, please do not start hurricane threads or reference the hurricane in threads before Friday, Aug 30th. We're posting now so that people have time to plot in advance, but we also wanted to ensure that everyone had time to start just festival related threads first.

Since it is hurricane season in South Carolina, the town has long set out plans for hurricane warnings and the school has been prepared to be the gathering point in cases like this where large amounts of the Briar Ridge population aren't at home and can't get home easily. Therefore, the school is stocked up on supplies and tools to help secure the building and keep Briar Ridge citizens safe.

If you would like to say that your character was injured in the rush to get to the school, or becomes sick during the time that they are stuck in the school because of getting drenched by the cold rain, please run your idea by the admin team by sending an IM to the main! We can't have everyone incapacitated lol We also ask that you take into consideration your character's task (described in the next point & assigned in the discord server) before deciding on the extent of the injury, so as to avoid making it impossible for them to finish their task (I.e. please don't give your character a broken leg if they're going to have to walk around the whole school boarding up windows lol). Once we have approved your character being sick or injured, please make sure to use appropriate trigger warnings.

Every character will be paired up with one other character and given a task once they arrive at the school. Your character(s) can still interact with other people in the school, but we ask that each pairing give priority to and at least begin their task thread while the event is still ongoing.

These tasks can be as detailed as you would like to make them, we've listed some examples in the server of things your characters could do, but you don't strictly need to do that. If you think of something else within your assigned task category, please feel free to write it out instead!

Your task threads don't have to be long or last throughout the entire time everyone's stuck in the school. This is just a chance to get random characters to interact and hopefully get threads going with new writers!

The festival goers will be stuck at the school for 24 hours from when the hurricane warning was issued (unbeknownst to them of course!). If your character has family members, pets, etc. at home, feel free to include anxiety over their safety in your characters threads, but maybe there's someone else already taking care of them? We don't want to create REAL issues for your characters' loved ones!

After having been at the school for several hours, the electricity will go off at 10pm and won't come back on until mid morning the next day, a few hours before they're all allowed to go back home.

Please feel free to get creative with this! We're excited for this as we think it's a fun opportunity to pair up characters who might not have interacted otherwise even outside of the tasks!

If you have any questions, please direct them to the event channel in the discord server!

[whispersafterdusk]

Ensuring the Future - ch 5

Though she knew she would have to get up at an obscene hour she was laying awake, thinking. Being recognized was not ideal even if it was just a waitress in a tiny town...who was Grace, exactly? Miguel's guess seemed logical but not all of her time in Atara had been builder-related, and it truly hammered home how much she was trying her damnedest to forget and move beyond. Building enough of a life here on her own was supposed to be the only challenge in these twilight years, not- not the prospect of trying to create something new while fearing judgement (with a healthy dose of shame), especially not in the one place in the Free Cities she'd been certain no one would know her. It made the growing, nagging doubts that anything at all could be built upon a foundation of lies and half-truths worse, whether it was friendship between herself and her new neighbors or the love that had been delivered to her doorstep suddenly. For the former she could always keep a firm boundary between herself and others, for the latter... Light but she craved Miguel's company, and the doubts were easy to forget in his presence but when left alone... ((Continued below cut))

Sighing heavily she rolled onto her other side, wincing at a sudden stabbing pain that thankfully was banished with a kneading of fingers into the top of her knee; the ridges of the scarring there were tactile through her thin pants and she sighed again. She hadn't even considered the physical scars, damn it. Would Miguel be able to tell a burn scar from...other types of scars? If he was ignorant of their true cause then it should be an easy thing to pass them off as a flammable liquid accident, or something of the sort. If not...the lies just kept growing, didn't they? With another huff she rolled over again and pulled half the pillow up, sandwiching her head between the ends. She was sorely tempted to not even bother with sleep considering the hour. It was a small blessing that nothing she needed to do in the morning would require the heavier machinery or tools.

-------------------------------

Sandrock's Day of Memories celebration was one of the more unique ones Miguel had encountered in his travels; he was not especially good at hiding during the ghost hunt but he'd always excelled at the seeking half of the event - being one with a mind for details often benefited him in unexpected ways and there wasn't much that escaped his attention in town so it was a simple matter to notice when something was out of place. It wasn't enough on its own for him to win any prizes but it was good-hearted fun, without intending to frighten or upset (or cause damages of any kind).

Despite the stark difference in the traditions he still hadn't been able to convince Olivia to participate in the games this evening; in Doss the majority of folks enjoyed pranks and scaring others which was something she'd never enjoyed. Placing the blame on aches and pains (and with both cane and a leg brace on her person) she'd gone to tuck herself into a chair on the saloon's upper porch to watch the festivities, encouraging and then insisting that he not sit things out on her account. More to placate her than anything Miguel had joined in on the first round of seeking then excused himself to join her, frowning when he found she had a drink in hand as their prior conversation came to mind.

"I thought Owen was running about with the others?" he asked, eying the glass; it was clearly one of the saloon's and in the candlelight he could see it was half full of an amber liquid -- probably one of the top shelf liquors, though it was too dark to really tell.

She raised it to her lips and took a sip, staring at him from over the rim. "It's only the one - don't scold me. And, to answer your question, yes he is, as Grace volunteered to handle the bar this year since there's a handful of travelers in there opting to take advantage of the quiet and enjoy a drink in peace."

"It is still...strange to me, to see you drinking."

She shrugged. "Don't tell me YOU never imbibe?"

"I do, rarely."

"Then no prodding at me for enjoying a single glass," she went on, tipping her head back to take in a larger mouthful. "I will not be drinking myself into a stupor this year, I promise."

He hummed in acknowledgement and settled into the chair on the other side of the little table, shifting so he could watch the others in the street while also keeping Olivia in view. As she didn't seem inclined to talk much he was left to his own thoughts; the Day of Memories had always been a somber one for him as he remembered all those he'd lost (the first few years after Doss had been agonizing but with time it had mellowed to a dull, spiritual ache) and was grateful to have such a blessing returned to him -- the somberness and sadness was still there but the joy at being reunited with Olivia sparkled among it like a diamond among coal.

"They at least seem to be enjoying themselves."

Miguel pulled himself from reverie and smiled over toward her. "Indeed - though, there will be some grumbling tomorrow as everyone works to get all the decorations down."

She snorted softly and drained the rest of the drink from her glass. "As opposed to putting them all up?"

"No, no, there is grumbling for that too," Miguel chuckled. "The set up and tear down for festivals is always much longer than the celebrations themselves, much to everyone's dismay."

At that point the crowd began to filter by on the street below them - the hunt was over, and now it was...well, time for the part that Miguel still occasionally found it hard to get through: lanterns. To think that, before he knew who their new builder truly was, he had reminisced on how many he'd sent skyward over the decades... What a strange coincidence and amazing miracle, to be given this chance to remember those he'd lost alongside one of those he'd thought gone.

He stood and offered a hand to Olivia; she took it with a small smile then rose with a grimace, leaving the glass on the table for Grace to collect and snatching up her cane as she shifted her hand to his arm instead. Slowly they strolled over to the open space in front of Hammer Time where the lanterns had been placed in neat rows. As always he felt a pang in his heart and soul at the sight - at their meaning, and turned his head just enough to gaze at Olivia in profile; her expression was neutral, her gaze sweeping across the other faces here. The excitement of the game was wearing off, replaced with a respectful silence.

Together he and Olivia selected lanterns and carried them off to the side of the main group, Miguel holding them both steady as Olivia lit a match and carefully set the tiny candle alight. Then, together still, they gently nudged them skyward; as they rose into the night sky Miguel slipped his arm around Olivia's waist and inhaled deeply.

"I pray all their souls are at peace," he murmured. "Would that we could have buried them, as they deserved."

For a long moment Olivia only stared silently up at the lanterns as they floated further into the sky, then shook her head. "It's just as likely the bodies were eaten by the creature or others emboldened to move in."

Miguel wrinkled his nose, feeling a faint sense of nausea at the very thought. "Even still-"

"-graves are for the living," she interrupted, looking over at him with tired eyes. "The spirit's fled and all the survivors are left with are dead flowers and memories."

It was such an exhausted look that a feeling of concern flooded him, and he tightened his grip around her waist. "Are you feeling unwell?"

"Old pains from within and without. I believe I'm ready to head home, all things considered."

"I shall walk with you."

She shook her head. "There's zero sense in you walking me all the way over there and then back here to return to your room."

"Don't be ridiculous, it makes sense to me," he insisted. "And it's not so far."

She huffed but allowed him to take his arm from around her and offer it again; there were a few nods and smiles as they skirted the gathering and headed across the tracks. As they walked the lanterns began floating by overhead -- they would all end up somewhere in the middle of the Eufala where the paper would either catch fire and burn out (thankfully there was nothing else out there that could become a fire hazard - there were no outlying villages or enough plant life to matter in the lanterns' paths) or degrade into dust in the harsh heat. Olivia seemed to tense as the lanterns came back into view and Miguel subtly increased their pace until they were at last at her door.

"I shall be by in the morning, as usual."

"Sleep in - I know I will be," Olivia responded, giving him a worn smile.

He chuckled softly and patted her hand. "Then perhaps a late breakfast at the saloon instead?"

"That works. Good night, Miguel." She shifted close enough to give him a little peck on the cheek before retreating through her door and closing it tightly behind her, without giving him a chance to reciprocate.

He closed his eyes and took a deep breath before turning to go, gaze lifting to watch the lanterns still rising. We all grieve in different ways. In those first couple of years when he'd been well and truly alone the grief had been nigh unbearable and while time had tempered it he doubted it would ever fully leave him; it certainly hadn't left Olivia, and it pained him to see her own pain on display -- if only there were something he could do to alleviate it...though he counseled others as the need arose there were still times he felt rather helpless in the face of sorrow.

Perhaps now that they'd found one another again they could find true solace and healing.

------------------------------

Olivia stood with her back pressed to the door until she was certain she heard the squeak of the gate, then let out a sigh that trailed into a growl.

"Damn this holiday..." she muttered, slamming the lock into place and heading toward the tiny fridge at the edge of the counter.

The size of the fridge severely limited how much fresh produce or dairy items she could keep on hand, and she'd planned ahead to make certain she didn't have much to worry about so that the bottle of wine she'd bought yesterday would fit within. She broke the wax seal and popped the cork then carried the entire bottle over to her bed and sat it on the bedside table to free up her hands; with a few shoves she moved the bed aside and bent to pull up the loose floorboards hidden underneath.

A shovel and the bucket she'd been using to carry the dirt out sat in the shallow hole beneath the boards, and Olivia paused to take a long pull off the wine bottle before taking the shovel up in her hands and setting the blade against the hard-packed soil; she'd found that it had turned to mostly clay and rock about a foot down - Amirah would probably appreciate whatever Olivia decided not to use herself, once she'd filtered all the stone out of it.

With a grunt she hopped and put the whole of her weight onto the shovel to thrust it deep, then began to work the handle back and forth with one hand to loosen the clay enough to be able to lift it free, reaching out with the other to grab the wine bottle again. She would keep her word and not drink herself silly (especially not if she would be meeting him in the morning - hangovers had only gotten harder to weather with age) but the 'just the one' was...well, what was one more lie on the scale?

--------------------------

Dome and wall repairs: done. Planter repairs: done. New planters: done. Wired frames for seed sifting and sorting: done. There was some shelving to add inside one of the sheds, a few stands to build and a tiered shelf to attach to a wall on the far side of the farm, and a few spot-repairs to do to the floor grating but otherwise? Olivia had whipped this place into shape in just a few months.

Zeke had taken to stopping just inside the doorway each morning when he arrived at the farm, pausing to take it all in, smiling more than he had in quite some time. The place looked great - better than it had in literal years - and he had to laugh each time he caught himself defaulting to old habits created out of having to 'make do' for so long. Being able to come in and get work done without any nagging worries or issues to work around had actually given him a surplus of spare time that he'd immediately allocated to experimentation and study -- more time to thoroughly read through the backlog of research journals from Highwind, more time to translate his shorthand, scribbled notes into fully recorded data and more time to compile all of that data into reports he could disperse to his fellow botanists across the Free Cities.

Time, time, time - he finally had the time to catch up on everything. It was nothing short of a miracle.

He was pulled from his thoughts by the sudden burst of sunlight streaking across the floor as the farm's door opened; a quick glance over a shoulder revealed Olivia framed in the light briefly before she closed the door behind her. "Morning, Olivia."

"Good morning, Zeke. I have a few plans for you to review -- between your numbers and Qi's estimations on what can still be found in the ruins surrounding Sandrock, I think I may have hit upon the right balance needed to optimally run those hydroponic systems for your seedlings."

"That's great news," Zeke said, with a solemn nod.

Olivia raised an eyebrow at him as she came over, cane tapping along at her side and a sheaf of paper tucked under her other elbow. "Do contain your excitement."

He let out a short chuckle. "Sorry. Still not too used to this regular talking thing, and it's pretty easy to raise hopes too high with a smile or too much enthusiasm. I've made that mistake too many times."

She smiled kindly and, once she'd reached him, walked at his side over to the table they'd set up near one of the sheds. "False hope can be painful, that's true, but no hope at all can paint the future bleaker than it truly is."

"Fair enough."

Zeke stood back as Olivia leaned the cane against the table and began laying out blueprints across its surface, and as she moved by he caught a whiff of something floral -- it was a sweet and gentle smell, one he wasn't familiar with even though he'd grown and studied many varieties of flowers both native and non-native to the Eufala. It smelled nice. Almost a relaxing aroma. He had a mind to ask her what flower it was from but she seemed ready to begin so he tried his best to put it out of his mind as he focused on the papers laid out in front of him.

"So, this one here," Olivia began, pointing to the blueprint furthest on their left. "Personally, I think this one to be the most promising. It will take up more space but if we were to build that additional room you'd mentioned then it could sit in there with its own lighting unit, powered by a wind turbine extended out into the canyon. The actual energy requirements would be almost entirely met by wind power alone but unless you wanted to add a cooling unit to the addition I would advise against the glass roof to avoid baking the motor - and yourself and the plants, as well. The addition as you described it would not be a proper greenhouse so it would absolutely get unbearably and deadly hot inside if we don't plan ahead for that. We COULD instead shift it to the opposite side and take advantage of the fact the main structure of the farm itself would shield the addition from all but the late afternoon sun where the resulting heat could be handled by a series of fans, which would also be powered by the turbine."

Zeke nodded slowly, taking a step closer to peer down at the meticulously drawn unit, his nose filling with the scent he still couldn't place as he studied the plans; he counted 72 (72!) seed plots across its surface, a lighted canopy that sat above it, and the motor and water tank sitting on either end. "Moving it to the other side limits the space though, doesn't it? How big would the new room need to be?"

"NEED to be? At least as long as the unit plus enough extra open space on either side to access the tank and motor housings, and space to walk up to it. You could happily shove this thing in a glorified closet and it would suffice so long as it has enough airflow to not overheat. Now, going off of that twenty by twenty foot room you were thinking of, we-"

She stopped abruptly, attention snapping upward to the dome above their heads. Zeke glanced up and raised a hand to shield his eyes against the glare - it was another cloudless, sunny day in the Eufala. "Something wrong?"

"I...thought I'd heard something," she answered after a long pause. "...perhaps just the wind."

"What'd you think you heard? I didn't hear anything."

"I heard something hit the glass."

He blinked at her then peered up again. "Huh. I didn't. Probably something blown into it - that happens a lot here so close to the edge of the canyon."

She let out a hum - she did not look entirely convinced - then looked back down to the blueprints. "Right...where was I? Room. Twenty by twenty would-"

This time Zeke heard the bang; it was muffled some by distance and the buffer of plants but he was certain he'd heard something coming from the far side of the farm, roughly near where the other remaining wing of the flying contraption rested on the ground. The bang was followed by a smattering of smaller sounds, almost like...footsteps-

Above their heads the glass shattered and unknown objects rained in; he instinctively ducked his head so his wide hat would fully protect his face against the shower of shards, and grabbed a handful of his cape and lifted it up to keep the worst of it off Olivia in front of him. Glass bottles - far enough away to not be an immediate danger to them - smashed into the ground and across the planters nearby, and Zeke's nose was flooded with the smell of alcohol and soot as the lit rags stuffed into the bottles set the spread of fluid on fire.

"What in the hell-"

He was aware of Olivia moving - rushing away, leaping the nearest patch of flame - as the panes of glass in the direction of the wing shattered then; instead of a rain of bottles a rush of figures came in, crunching across the glass underfoot and trampling all the plants as they rushed across the ground toward the hydrogel.

"Don't," was all Zeke could think to say as the figures - geeglers, he finally realized - all raise their arms and in unison threw an assortment of garbage, rocks, bent metal rods, and a few more molotovs into the main air intake of the hydrogel right as Olivia reached them. His eye was drawn by the flash of silver and red as her cane swept around in an upward arc and cold-clocked the lead geegler -- hang on, how had Olivia even gotten over there that fast? And what was she thinking? There were six geeglers (seven, if you counted the one she'd already dropped) over there, she- she couldn't possibly handle that many--

---------------------------------

Justice rammed his shoulder into the farm's door and barreled through, Unsuur right behind him as he drew his weapon and--

And...

There were some fires and broken glass everywhere, and the thick, choking smell of hot metal and slag, but-- huh. No...threats. What had happened here?

Slipping his gun back into the holster he let his gaze sweep the farm; fire, fire, another fire, miscellaneous garbage at the base of the pillar in the middle along with twisted, blackened metal debris... Finally his eyes fell on Zeke and Olivia standing just within sight on the other side the central pillar; he jogged over and looked the two of them up and down as he moved, noting Olivia's left arm was blood-soaked at the elbow but she was moving just fine -- no other indication of serious injury at all on her. Zeke likewise looked unharmed, if winded.

"Get the fires under control, pardner," he called over a shoulder, and Unsuur uttered a quick acknowledgement and went to grab an extinguisher while Justice skidded to a halt just shy of a spreading pool of blood coming from a pile of slain geeglers -- he counted five bodies piled there at their feet and looked between Olivia and Zeke in amazement. "You two ok? We came as soon as we spotted the smoke. No injuries?" he asked, pointedly looking at Olivia and that arm.

"All is well, sheriff - some bruises, and I will certainly be feeling this in the morning. --oh, this?" she asked, following his gaze down to her arm. "Pay it no mind - it's not from me. I must have nicked a carotid...which is why I prefer not using unfamiliar weapons." She pointed down to her feet where she nudged one of the lizardmen's sickles before kicking it onto the pile.

Justice glanced to Zeke, who was in turn eying Olivia, and it took the man a moment to realize Justice was now expecting his answer. "Uh, y-yeah. I'm fine."

It didn't escape his notice that Zeke gave Olivia one final, almost appraising look, before stepping around her and hurrying toward the pillar in the middle of the farm. Shaking his head Justice glanced over the pile of bodies and blood puddle -- in an amazing stroke of luck all the dead were laying on solid floor rather than on top of any grating, which ought to reduce the amount of contamination that might have gotten into the farm's irrigation systems (though there was probably a lot of glass down in there now...)

"I can't believe those darn lizardmen could be so audacious! This is a clear escalation!" He held out a hand to Olivia as she carefully picked her way through the carnage toward him.

She took it and allowed him to help steady her as she wiped her boots on the pantsleg of a geegler before stepping out of the blood and onto the grating where he stood. "Are the fires out?"

He quickly glanced to Unsuur across the way -- the smell of blood was being overcome by smoke but he didn't see any further flames, and Unsuur was already walking over to return the extinguisher to the bracket hanging on the side of some planters. "Seems like it. Man...the whole Moisture Farm is trashed!"

"The good thing about plants, Justice, is that they grow back. They'll be fine," came Zeke's distracted response as Justice walked with Olivia toward him. "This is the main problem. All the crops are going to die without this Hydrogel."

"You're joking, right? I can never tell if you're serious or not," Justice said, staring up at the pillar. He wasn't in here all that often but he was familiar with the hum of machinery and the periodic "rain" that it produced; it seemed eerily silent in here now without the hydrogel running.

Zeke shook his head, letting out a rueful chuckle. "No, I'm afraid there's nothing funny about it. Without a replacement, we could be in dire straights..."

Justice felt a gentle hand on his arm as Olivia carefully maneuvered around him and went directly to the hydrogel, growling under her breath as she stared up into the wreckage. "You can help with this, right? ...right?"

"Oh, certainly," Olivia muttered, running a hand down her face. "I'll need to dismantle this to see what can be salvaged and what I will need to replace. As of this exact moment I can't even guess at how long that might take."

"I'm willing to bet that middle part is kind of rare but I bet Qi ought to know something. Talk to him when you can -- in the meantime, Unsuur and I need to go secure the perimeter. We'll come back when we're sure it's all clear to help clean up the rest of the mess."

He spun on his heel and caught Unsuur's eye; the man was halfway across the room and heading toward them but at Justice's gesture altered his path to instead meet him at the door. "Let's ride!"

"Yes, sir!"

Outside he allowed himself a long enough pause to get a few lungfuls of fresh air before heading off to the right while Unsuur circled around to the left and toward the cliffs.

-------------------------------

Zeke waited until Justice and Unsuur had left before turning to Olivia; her blood-stained sleeve was a little unnerving -- really, all the blood kind of everywhere was. The desert had its dangers and nature could be pretty violent in general but usually all that was well away from the farm so seeing carnage like this wasn't something he was accustomed to. After the mess was cleared up he'd have to flush out the water system for sure, but that could wait. "You sure you're all right?"

She flashed him a tired smile. "I will be aching for the next month but as I said, no major injuries. Haven't had to move like that in a long while..." she muttered, grimacing as she pressed a hand to her lower back and thrust her midsection forward to stretch.

He nodded slowly - he'd never seen anyone fight like that before. She'd wielded that cane almost like the sword it resembled, turning away attacks in a flurry of elegant movements punctuated by the sharp crack of the heavy head of the cane connecting with flesh and bone. There had been that moment where she'd disarmed and then cut down one of the lizardmen with his own sickle in such a quick and precise maneuver that, had the geegler not dropped with a gurgle (and a spray), he wouldn't have been certain of what he'd seen -- she'd just moved so fast. Almost inhumanly so. Those geeglers hadn't stood a chance once she'd had both sickle and cane in hand.

With a start he realized she was staring back at him silently, and gruffly cleared his throat. "Ah, uh, sorry. We've got... Well, we've got a lot of work to do now."

"Indeed," she said slowly, still eying him. "I'm rather perturbed that all my hard work was just undone."

"Yeah... Yeah, that's a shame. You had this place looking the best it's looked in years."

She nodded, then inhaled deeply through her nose. "Judging by your look you have questions, and all I shall say on the matter is I have been inside many, many dangerous ruins. For a time, part of my duties was helping Civil Corps or other such groups eliminate threats both inside and around various ruins across the Free Cities. ...it's a life I'm trying to leave behind, so I would appreciate it if you kept this particular skill of mine between us."

Ah...that explained it then. Some of those Old World places could be ridiculously dangerous; the Church actually had a list of ruins that they considered 'off limits' to ALL mankind, and for the most part the Alliance, Ethea, Meidi, and Barnarock (and, to their credit, sometimes Duvos) all agreed to leave those particular ones alone. "I won't tell anyone, promise. Not that I really have anyone to tell anyway. Maybe my pa, but he'd probably think I'm going senile."

Olivia let out a bark of laughter. "I willingly admit that I take advantage of my age and appearance when it comes to being dragged into situations. Regardless, the limp is not just for show and I sure as hell do not move like I used to so I'd very much like to not be asked to do those sorts of things anymore -- I will act if I must, don't get me wrong, but I'm not going to be volunteering myself anytime soon."

"I understand, and, yeah - I won't be telling anyone."

"Thank you," she replied, looking relieved. "Now... If you'll excuse me, I need to sort out the hydrogel issue. I'll be back here with news as soon as I can."

Zeke nodded as she turned to hurry off, and grunted softly as his lower back twinged suddenly. He'd better not over-exert himself-- actually, "hey, 'liv-"

He somewhat mangled her name as the acrid smell of the slag next to him caught in his throat unexpectedly; coughing again to clear his throat he took a few big steps away from the mess and took his hat off to wave away the fumes -- looks like he'd also need to air the place out too. "Sorry. Olivia - Fang's got a real good cream for aches and pains, if you haven't got any already. I use it all the time, so, if you happen to need it it's the stuff in a little green glass pot with an orange lid. Costs about 50 gols."

She'd stopped at the door and was looking at him with concern plain on her face but once he'd gotten the bad air out along with the little tip about the pain cream he got a small smile. "I see. I suspect I may need to roll in it like a pig in mud before all is said and done but I'll pick some up on my way back to the workshop. Thank you."

"Be careful out there," he called after her as she slipped through the door.

Alone once more Zeke looked over the corpses and mess; he hoped the hydrogel wouldn't be too big of a job as they would need that working quickly. They could make do for a short period of time by hand-watering but with the expected growth and sheer amount of water, labor, and produce needed to keep Sandrock going that was not something they could keep up with long term. The fires had at least not damaged too many plants - they could survive a loss of a couple of planters and the ashes could be utilized as a basic fertilizer to help jump-start some new seeds.

Small miracles, he thought, though it wasn't an especially comforting one.

With a huff he bent and seized one of the dead geeglers by the ankles and tested its weight; it was bigger than the two he'd launched out of the farm through the dome, and he suffered a sudden surge of guilt at the thought: he hoped they'd died on impact out there or at least had the sense to run away as otherwise Justice and Unsuur might in danger of stumbling on them, since Zeke hadn't thought to warn them... Though, he supposed if anyone else in town could handle some overgrown lizards it would (by necessity) be their Civil Corps, so maybe it would be all right.

He lumbered across the farm toward the shed, dropping his cape and hat on the table as he passed by; the wheelbarrow he kept hanging on the outer wall of the shed hadn't been used in awhile and was squeaking like a strangled panbat as he wheeled it to the geeglers and began to pile them on top. Before he could flush out the pipes he would need to get these things out of here and get as much of the blood mopped up as he could.

Which...if he wheeled them out he was going to leave a trail of blood from here to the doorway. He should get the mop ready now and leave it by the door so he could retrace his path and make sure he didn't miss any stray drops.

The trickle of sweat down his face and gathering across the top of his chest was already aggravating him as he hauled a full bucket and mop to the entrance; the hydrogel kept it cool in here by producing water, creating rain and humidity, and circulating the air. Without it running the full heat of the sun coming through the windows didn't have anything acting against it, and there wasn't much wind coming in through the broken windows either.

...he should probably get Mi-an to fix those windows before the next sandstorm hit. Olivia would have her hands full, and Yan...wasn't anyone he trusted to get the job done quickly. Plunking the bucket down Zeke headed out of the farm and started to climb the hill toward Sandrock proper -- he could only hope he'd catch Mi-an at home and not have to chase her down.

[nocturnalfandomartist]

What if there was a Minish Cap sequel?

Journey to the Minish Realm

I was a little unsure whether to post this to Untold Myths or not, but decided to post it here. Basically what happened:

And now I'm a little obsessed with the idea.

Story

Exactly one year after The Minish Cap arrives the next Picori Festival. Link anticipated Zelda would ask him to go with her,

The tutorial section would be Link preparing for the tournament, which he actually gets to compete in this year... After the Minister practically begged him to keep an eye on Zelda while she watches over the whole thing, anyway. For the tournament, Link uses a replica of the Picori Blade rather than the Four Sword.

At the peak of the festival, when Link finds he is at the final two, the opponent set for Link is suddenly injured– too much to compete. As they try to find a replacement opponent, a lone silhouette volunteers after a rather dramatic entrance using a wind spell. They are none other than Vaati, who has mysteriously returned from his defeat... But his form is corrupt and indefinite, constantly leaning between his humanoid form and the monstrous one he was slain in. The husk of who was once a great sorcerer seems overly confident despite the fact he can barely hold himself together, proclaiming a rematch is in order. Although the Light Force was removed from him, somehow a portion of the monster form's power has lingered with him.

Link, although alarmed, prepares for a fight... But Zelda quickly intervenes to protect Link. Vaati is only more provoked by seeing her after he failed to contain the Light Force after draining it from her, about to attack her as well. However, he stops himself as a different idea comes to mind. Using a power unknown to the pair at the time, he manifests his own version of the Minish Door, knocking Zelda right through it and following after daring Link to join them.

Without a moment's hesitation, Link races through the door after Zelda. He awakens in the Minish Realm, managing to find Zelda after she evaded Vaati. The two now find themselves in a world they have never seen, and seek out an old friend to help them return home... And stop the revived Vaati.

Worldbuilding

The Minish Realm is structured like a mix of Hyrule in MC and FS. While vast, it features a lot of areas tied to a specific element.

Other Ideas

Guide character Zelda, Spirit Tracks style...

I call MC Link "Pico", so someone might give him that as a nickname.

There are four types of Minish in the Minish Realm, the ancient sages that proceeded Ezlo being responsible for the Picori Blade. There are Forest Minish, like in Hyrule, Snow Minish, Fire Minish, and Wind Minish. Vaati was a Wind Minish before his descent.

Ezlo has refused to take an apprentice after Vaati. Although he does miss teaching, especially after departing from Link, he unadmittedly worries about pushing another one down the wrong path. Unfortunately for Ezlo, a ton of younger Minish have heard how he helped a hero in Hyrule like the old Sages... And now they all want him to be their teacher.

Other Minish Sages will be present. Three, to be exact. Ezlo is the Minish Sage of Forest/Earth, but there is also one of Ice, Fire, and Wind.

Ezlo can turn into a bird similar to his cursed cap form. He claims Vaati gave him the idea...

[dreamdaddydutch]

Christmas Headcanons

I wrote some Christmas/festive season headcanons featuring some of the gang along with a few thoughts on the gang in the modern day. I may write a part 2 for this with other characters (I realise I have left Arthur off!) Only warnings are: Mentions of alcoholism and violence. Seasonal depression. 

Javier

Javier both loves and hates this time of year, it reminds him of his family especially as they were quite religious. Does Javier believe in God? That’s a question for another day and a big one at that. He’s seen so much and suffered so much it makes it hard for him to believe in a God in the traditional sense. But he will still say his rosary/kiss the beads occasionally.

As a child there were some pretty awful Christmases when his father was drunk and violent – though he’d still punish Javier if he took the Lord’s name in vain. Somehow that was a sin to his father but being violent or spending a lot of the families money on booze wasn’t.

Christmas is in interesting time for him, there’s some pain associated with it but overall loves the festive season and although not a fan of the snow/cold, he enjoys getting snug and cosy.

He’s just so grateful for the Van Der Linde Gang who are now his family and will love to sing festive songs around the camp fire with them.

He really loves mulled wine and cider, cinnamon in whiskey etc.

In terms of romantic life – Javier is the sweetest when it comes to the festive season and would want to spoil his partner with gifts, kisses, food etc.

Will take them to a party to go dancing - wearing the most fancy clothing he owns. 

Absolutely smooches under the mistletoe. If he’s with someone in a committed relationship, he will give them the biggest kiss under the mistletoe, tongues, teeth, yeah it’s gonna make other people hot and bothered. If there’s someone he likes in camp then yeah he’s gonna use the mistletoe for his first, romantic move – of course he’ll ask permission before he kisses him, but it’s a talking point and a way to get them away from others. If Javier is drunk then yeah he’ll pretty much kiss any member of the gang underneath the mistletoe, except Uncle!

Sadie

Doesn’t really get it – but deep down she knows she used to love the holidays, but since Jake was killed it just isn’t the same.

More likely to volunteer at a soup kitchen and want to spend as much time with others as possible. If she’s left alone with her thoughts, she’s liable to get a little bit sad.

But she’s glad for all the food, alcohol and singing. Additionally having Jack around helps her to forget her own pain, she can spend some time with him and seeing how excited he is gets her excited too.

Probably has some nice late-night chats with Arthur and Javier over a few whiskeys. All three of them struggle with the short days, cold, memories of the pasts and seeing happy families, so they seek comfort with one another.

She’s not going to help put up decorations or bake, she probably isn’t going to want to sing either. But she will help make a lot of extra special, delicious mulled wine with Pearson which goes down a treat at camp. While she won’t say it aloud or let others know, she actually enjoys getting involved and doing something for the camp that leaves her feeling warm and fuzzy inside.

Charles

For Charles this period is all about reflection, especially with the New Year coming up. He takes stock of his life and what he wants to achieve.

Really enjoys winter sunrise and sunsets and will use them to get up and go hunting by himself.

If he’s with someone he’ll take them along on his hunting trips. Think cosy camps, blankets, hot chocolate with whiskey. Very romantic.

He’s kind of indifferent to the day itself, getting more excited about New Year. But he will ensure he hunts a great boar, large deer or something special to feed the entire gang on the day and will help Pearson to prepare it.

He loves hearing others tell stories round the fire, perhaps folk law surrounding yule and the traditions associated with New Year. 

Dutch

He has a love/hate relationship with the season, it reminds him too much of Annabelle and that leaves him vulnerable and sad. But he understands that for the gang it’s very important to celebrate, throw a party, feast and have a few days off from hustling.

He would put a little money aside to afford some decorations – holly, mistletoe, candles and small gifts for the gang – though nothing expensive and would not be buying himself. He’ll send Molly out, but for her he will buy her something special.

In fact it’ll become a bit of a mission for him and Hosea or Arthur to go into town without anyone knowing where he’s going so he can get a special gift for her.

Dutch gets very red faced after drinking, and during the festive season it is no different, in fact during the festive season it’s one of the only times that Dutch really lets his hair down.

John

Behaves a little like a kid at Christmas, but he blames this on Jack and wanting to be excited for his son. Abigail knows the truth.

He’ll still put a stocking out for himself.

Will actually really surprise Abigail by buying a beautiful and well thought out gift that he’s spent ages saving for. He may also make something for her too.

Loves the extra excuse for getting drunk and isn’t sorry.

Avoids Mistletoe like the plague, even if Abigail has it he gets really embarrassed and tries to run away from her while flushed red. Of course Abigail and others find it hilarious and in the end he will relent and kiss her.

Molly

Being the romantic belle that she is, Molly loves this time of year. There are so many excuses to cuddle up with Dutch alone in a hotel room or in their tent. Plenty of moments to be together under warm blankets and to warm one another up.

She absolutely has dresses that are especially made for the season, a lot of white, red and green. Even if she appears over dressed in camp she doesn’t care, she just wants to look her best for Dutch and doesn’t mind that she gets the attraction of the men in camp.

One of the few occasions where she will drink a little bit more and allow herself to get merry. Partly because of how she views herself in comparison to others and partly because she’s afraid of losing control, she generally doesn’t drink that much with the gang. She loves a glass or two of wine when out with Dutch or when she feels safe, but it just isn’t something she’s fond of. However, during the festive time of year she allows herself to let her hair down, drinks more and will laugh, sing and dance with the others. The rest of the gang love this side of Molly and are happy that even though it’s only for a brief time, that she allows herself to get close to them and gets off her high horse.

Her year will be made if Dutch makes a big romantic gesture underneath the mistletoe and kiss her in front of everyone before sweeping her off her feet and taking her to bed.

Tilly

Tilly would love nothing more than to join a choir during the festive season. She loves singing and being a part of something so pure, magical and spiritual means a lot to her. Plus it’s fun and nice to get away from the gang for a bit – thought she’ll love the parties with the gang and singing.

Lights lots of candles round camp on Christmas Eve and tells Jack stories – with him sat on her lap.

The festive season is absolutely the time for board games, card games and dominoes. Tilly has an amazing poker face, she’s competitive and a skilled player. She may go a little easier due to the festive spirit and all of that… but she loves the excuse to play games more than usual. Instead of money they play for sweets, mince pies and small treats.

Makes homemade gifts for all of the gang, there’s different gifts depending on the person. Baked goods is a big one, sweets for Jack, pressed flowers for some of the boys for them to keep as good luck charms etc. She takes care wrapping presents in brown paper and tied up nicely in string with a beautiful bow.

Hosea

Hosea is traditional when it comes to Christmas, he’ll want to go to Midnight Mass on Christmas Eve and is happy to take any of the gang with him as long as they behave! He’ll wear his best clothes.

Loves singing Christmas carols and drunkenly singing more fun festive songs in equal measure.

Is responsible for bringing the mistletoe back to camp.

Expert in wrapping presents and choosing gifts which are perfect for the person due to receive them.

Loves to tell festive Ghost stories round the camp fire late at night, he’s really good at acting things out, putting on voices and building up the tension.

Modern thoughts on this:

Jack knows he saw Father Christmas on his sleigh and all his reindeer. In fact this was actually a clever bit of ‘magic’ that John, Arthur and Javier work out.

Charles – absolutely loves the Christmas special drinks at Starbucks, Costa etc. Egg Nog Latte is his favourite.

Susan actually relaxes and takes some time for self care, going and getting her nails done with Festive nail art and lots of glitter before the Christmas party is a must.

Javier knows Christmas is here when the Coke advert is on…and will start to sing, ‘Holidays are coming’ round the fire place.

The girls and Kieran would love to go and see a Christmas light switch on, especially if there’s a pop star or soap actor doing the switch on.

Javier is the King of ice-skating, while others in the gang are falling over their feet and cannot stay up for the life of them, Javier will be spinning on the ice. His physique, agility and balance means he knows how to pull the moves. If he’s in a relationship he’s going to take them for a romantic spin and stop to kiss them on the ice, making everyone else feel a little jealous but gooey inside.

Arthur loves Hallmark Christmas movies – fight me.

Dutch is terrible at wrapping presents, they’re really, really bad. He just gives up in the end and puts lots of Sellotape round the parcels.

The girls, Javier, Sean and Bill end up singing ‘All I want for Christmas’ at Karaoke.

When the gang suggests secret santa, Arthur absolutely hates it, he wants no part of it and thinks it’s ridiculous. What’s the point!

Taking Jack to visit Santa, but instead of just John and Abigail taking him several other gang members would go along as they’d want to know what all the fuss was about.

[cotecoyotegrrrl]

Calling all Minneapolis / St Paul LGBTQIA Choir Geeks! GALA Festival begins July 10, 2024 and end the evening of July 14, 2024 We’re seeking passionate, trusted individuals to join our volunteer team for GALA Choruses Festival 2024! As a volunteer, you’ll play a crucial role in creating an unforgettable experience for attendees from around the globe. Your dedication will help make this celebration of LGBTQ choral music a success. Sign up now and be part of this extraordinary event!

As a thank you for your time, GALA offers the following discounts on Festival attendance:

- 12 volunteer hours = Full delegate badge for all concert and events (must sign up before June 15) - 6 volunteer hours = Receive a voucher for any 1 concert - 3 volunteer hours = Receive a voucher for an afternoon Chorus or Ensemble Concert

Sign up here: galachoruses.org/resource/festival-volunteers/

[haveyoureadthistransbook]

In the Court of the Nameless Queen by Natalie Ironside

goodreads

Take a trip across the sundered worlds to the Queendom of Corynnod, a dark realm of sorcery and desire, ruled over by she who is Queen, goddess, and mother to us all, in four fantastical and titillating tales of wonder, adventure, love, sex, and—of course—spiders. A true and credible account of how Freydis Thorkilsdottir, war witch, became Freydis Gothi and the Mother of Abominations. Freydis Thorkilsdottir, soldier and war witch in the army of the Nameless Queen, has always struggled to find a place for herself as a transgender woman. She volunteers to lead men over the walls in a castle assault, in hopes that, should she survive, she might earn the attentions—and the favors—of her great and terrible araneidan Queen... An account of how Freydis Gothi made the acquaintance of her most beloved and treasured servant. Fleeing oppression and unspeakable abuse, Kristina Kaminski—a woman who loves women in a land where such things are not allowed—travels into the grim and mysterious north and meets a most peculiar woman upon the shores of the sea. As she settles into her new life, it comes to pass that a dark conversion often necessitates a dark baptism... An account of the coming of Steff Pelczynski, diabolist, to Caer Eldur and the court of the Marchioness. Steff is no man, but don’t try telling her that. When the young wizard travels into the north, seeking a change, she—with the help of a rather commanding older woman—finds a change she didn't know she was looking for... An account of how Freydis Gothi acquired her legendary sword. Freydis Thorkilsdottir, Kristina the Apostate, and their friends take an excursion to a festival of wondrous terrors and delights where nothing is as it seems... and things already seemed pretty suggestive to begin with!

Mod opinion: I haven't read this book yet, but it sounds really interesting!