#how far apart to plant apple trees

[farmerstrend]

Apple Farming In Kenya; A Comprehensive Production Guide

Apple farming in Kenya has gained significant attention and interest in recent years due to its potential as a non-traditional crop in the region. While apples are not native to Kenya’s climate, innovative farming techniques and a growing demand for fresh and locally produced fruits have prompted some farmers to explore the cultivation of apple trees. Despite the challenges posed by the tropical…

[nohoperadio]

Imagine a far-future society, we don't know what's happened but the Earth is dead, I'm vaguely picturing them all living on space stations or something, there are only precious few species of plants and animals being kept alive, very few indeed, you couldn't quite count the remaining species on your fingertips but you could certainly check out all of their Wikipedia pages within the space of an hour. Future Wikipedia I guess, I mean whatever it is they have. No edible fruit or vegetables have survived at all, I'm not sure what they do for food, something futuristic presumably. Some kind of... future powder?

But there's this project that's been in the works for decades, they've figured out they can synthesize an apple. I don't know how that works, but the scientists have figured out a way. They're going to make an apple and this is like landing on the moon for them, everyone's insanely hyped about it, nobody's seen an apple for millennia... well see part of what's going on here is that the historiography of the time back when Earth still existed is irreparably bad now, it's super impressionistic because so little survived. And I guess partly because the Genesis story has been all blown out of proportion (there's more to it but that's a big part of it) these guys have a really exaggerated idea of the importance of apples to Earth humans, they basically imagine us eating apples all day long and worshiping apple gods and making apple art and all stuff like that. It's pretty silly but remember they have NO fruit or veg, they eat powder or whatever it was I said, they don't even have a rough concept of what "eating an apple" might be, like does it get you high for example? I bet they think it does, like a really spiritual special kind of high! They must have embellished it so much right? Gotten real carried away.

So like I say it's really hype, they're going to finally make an apple! A real one I mean, not like an approximation of what some scientists theorize an apple might be like, they've figured out how to definitely do it accurately (somehow, idk, just trust the omniscient narrator that they're doing it for real). But: they can only make one. Too much resources required or some shit, like I said this is their equivalent to the first moon landing except maybe more so, it's not a sustainable plan to reintroduce apple trees or something, they can only make one apple ever and that'll be it.

So as you can imagine, quite apart from all the scientific resource that's gone into this project, there's been a ton of resource invested into (not to mention endless public fascination and debate over) the question: who gets to eat the apple? It's a big deal! Everybody envies whoever's gonna eat it; most people also don't envy them. Since time immemorial, the essence of the apple has been defined by centuries and millennia of myth and speculation and storytelling holding together scattered fragments of a mysterious glorious past. Very soon, the essence of the apple will be defined by whatever this guy says it is, whatever the apple eater manages to communicate of the ineffable experience that will always be theirs alone. Humanity will demand a report, and the apple eater will have to be a poet of rarest genius at the very minimum to be trusted to deliver it, they hold the most privileged position maybe anyone will ever hold by being allowed to do this, and all that will remain of that briefest experience for all eternity will be their words. They're an instant prophet, no questions asked. I don't know about you, but if that was me I would definitely shit myself.

Well anyway forget about all that stuff. I was only thinking of this because it occurs to me, you're kind of like the apple eater of your own life, right? I mean nobody's making a big song and dance of it like those crazy apple space freaks, but it's true no?, you *pokes you in the face quite hard* with your highly specific soul positioned in your highly specific situation, that's only going to happen once, you're the only one who's ever going to know what that's like, assuming you aren't going to give some sort of big testimony, somehow. Only difference is like I say, no one really cares in your case, although actually I do sometimes, I hope that doesn't weird you out. I'm just saying imagine being asked the question! As if the answer really did matter! In theory anybody could just walk up to you and do that! I promise I won't ask you, if you promise you won't ask me.

[southern-gothic-comic]

Page 20

Next 💜 Back 🖤 First

Author Notes

Memories appear. We see Relvin steadying a tiny, eager Imogen, about three years old, in the saddle before him.

Imogen: (VO) I’ve spent my whole life in Gelvaan, although we didn’t always live so far out of town. Mother was gone before I even had a chance to remember her, so it’s always just been my dad and me, and the horses.

We see a very young "Laudna", about the same age, barefoot in the garden with her father, watching intently as he demonstrates the planting of seeds, which she is carrying in her apron. A row of apple trees in flower is visible nearby.

Laudna: (VO) My youth was not very different from yours, I think, in many ways. I had a lovely childhood on a small farm on the outskirts of Whitestone, back when the tree was flourishing.

Closeup of young Laudna in the woods, about five years old, lying on her elbows on the ground. In the foreground we can see an arrangement of leaves, rocks, flowers, berries, and acorn caps in the shape of a fancy dinner party, in which she is attempting to convince a beetle and a snail to participate.

Laudna: (VO) My powers of sorcery manifested at a young age, though, which made things difficult for my parents. I spent most of my time alone, playing in the woods in the company of my own imagination.

Imogen, around eight, is alone on the school playground, reading quietly by herself while the other children whisper together in the foreground.

Imogen: (VO) I never really had the knack for makin’ friends, even before my powers came in. It was easier to let them alone and be left alone.

About nine, Laudna is being reprimanded in front of the class by a teacher, who is pinching her ear. Wincing, she holds out her palm in anticipation of the ruler.

Laudna: (VO) But it wasn’t just magic that made me the freak of the town. I was never really sure how I ought to be behaving. The particulars of social conduct were, and have always been, something of a mystery to me.

Imogen, now a teenager, working in Faramore’s stable, grooming the horses while a young man leans over the fence, watching her. She looks uncomfortable.

Imogen: (VO) And then when they did, the noise and the shame of hearin’ everyone else’s thoughts all the time made it hard to be around other people. The horses were much easier to get along with.

At the bottom of the page a view of a rolling hillside with mountains in the distance gives way to a more ruggedly mountainous pine forest. The two of them, now grown to young adulthood, sit on either side of their respective landscapes, facing away from us, close but a continent and decades apart.

[eva-knits12]

More CE characters as dads

Pete Brenner

Pete loves being a dad.

You both wake up before Zoe.

Every day, you bring lunch and Zoe to the office.

Pete gets to spend every afternoon with his daughter.

Pete is very protective of you and Zoe.

"She's not dating until she's 30!"

Pete loves watching Zoe dance.

He watches Bluey with her.

Pete loves cooking for both you and Zoe.

He finds cooking to be very relaxing.

He loves making ribs and chicken bites.

He loves making soups, chili, and even tacos and fajitas.

Movie nights involve Disney films, and even stuff that you and Pete will watch after you put Zoe to bed.

Pete loves reading to Zoe.

Family days are often spent at the library, the bookstore, picnics in the park, apple and pumpkin picking in the fall, and decorating the Christmas tree in the winter.

Halloween involves you staying back to pass out candy, but Pete and Zoe often go trick or treating.

Pete will have some decaf coffee, while he pulls Zoe in her wagon or even walk her in her stroller.

Zoe gets tons of candy.

Pete is an amazing dad.

When you were pregnant with Zoe, Pete was a doting partner.

Foot rub and back rubs were a must!

Pete wouldn't let you carry anything, walk without assistance, or do anything without assistance.

Pete takes Zoe and you out on a nice, casual family night.

Pizza is a must with Zoe.

You and Pete often get Mexican food or even Chinese.

Pete wouldn't trade this for the world.

You and Zoe are his world.

Zoe eventually gets a sibling! She gets a sister!

Now, Pete has three favorite girls!

Cole Turner

Cole is a doting partner.

He's more nervous and anxious than you are.

You have to push the twins out!

Every day, Cole goes through the hospital bag.

He prepares for each scenario, including needing to give birth before you guys get to the hospital.

You actually give birth to the twins-when Cole is rushing you to the hospital!

You give birth to the twins in the back of the car!

Lucas is born first, then Dawn is born.

Cole called an ambulance, but the twins were coming, whether you wanted them to come out or not.

Luckily, Cole has seen this quite often on the farm, so he immediately sprung into action.

He knew how to check to see how far you were dilating, and you were at ten centimeters before you got the hospital, and your contractions got to two minutes apart, Cole removed your pants and your panties, and told you to start pushing!

Yep, you're one of the few wives who can say that her husband delivered her babies. He didn't help deliver them, Cole actually delivered them.

The ambulance arrives, and you were taken to the hospital, with Cole following.

Who knew that the same place where you got a flat tire, wound wind up being the same place where you gave birth to Lucas and Dawn?

Cole teaches Lucas and Dawn about plants and animals.

He reads to them, because Cole is an avid reader.

At the end of the day, Cole cooks for you.

Hot sandwiches with mashed potatoes and gravy, meatloaf, burgers, sausages, pork chops, baked chicken, fried chicken, Cole cooks it.

Cole finds cooking helps him relax, and it helps with his anxiety.

Movie nights with Cole involve popcorn, pillows, cuddling, and foot rubs.

Cole loves giving you a foot rub at the end of a long day of teaching.

For your birthday, anniversary, even a date night, Cole always remembers your favorite flowers and chocolates.

Cole loves making the baby food-he insisted that the baby food be homemade by him using vegetables from the garden and that it's organic and low in sugar-and giving Lucas and Dawn their bottles.

When Lucas and Dawn are older, they have a little outfit they wear when they are helping daddy on the farm. It involves a bucket hat, jeans, and a cute denim over shirt for Lucas, and cute overalls, a cute sun hat, and cute rubber boots for Dawn. Lucas has his own pair of rubber boots with the Captain America shield on it.

Lucas and Dawn follow Cole with their cute, plastic watering cans, pails, and shovels.

They even have baskets to pick the veggies.

Date nights are the best!

It involves the theatre, the movies, the beach, even the museum.

Cole wouldn't trade this for the world.

Ari Levinson

Ari is an amazing husband.

You have your kids later than most couples.

You were diagnosed with cervical cancer during your first year of marriage.

Ari was with you the entire time.

He would fuss over you.

You could only keep down pancakes and chicken broth when you were undergoing chemo.

When you found out were pregnant, Ari wouldn't let you lift anything, carry anything, or do anything.

You could go on walks.

You give birth to Zachary Andrew and Elijah Matthew.

A few years later, you give birth to Lillian Eve.

Ari loves taking you on date nights.

Family movie nights involve watching a movie that both boys pick out without arguing.

Popcorn is a must.

So is dollar store candy.

You and Ari often cook together.

Gyros are a family favorite.

(I love gyros, and they're popular around here. I like lots of Tzatziki sauce on mine.)

Ari will often a make a Greek salad to have on the side.

Ari loves making breakfast.

Ari and you often enjoy some coffee when you can actually have some peace, and that's after you put Lillian down for a nap.

Ari works from home, since he's runs an online import business.

He used to run a resort at one point.

He was even a high school geography teacher.

But, he quit those to run an online import business.

You work as a medical coder, and work from home.

You and Ari both have a shared office.

It works out, because you are both home with the twins and the baby.

Date nights are amazing.

It can involve an escape room, watching the sunset, going to open mic night, an evening picnic, even seeing a movie in the theatre.

Ari and you get the kids and Ari gets Lillian to sleep.

He puts the covers over you, and kisses your cheek just as you go to sleep.

[liaromancewriter]

Passing Time

Premise: It’s a long drive to Naveen’s cabin, giving Cassie to reflect on recent events. Set during 1.16.

Book: Open Heart Pairing: Ethan Ramsey x F!MC (Cassie Valentine) Rating/Category: Teen. Fluff. Words: 1,130

A/N: Submission to @choicesjunechallenge prompt "fantasy". I'm using @choicesflashfics week 39, prompt 2 (in bold). Also using #3 Grumpy Affectionate dialogue prompts from @creativepromptsforwriting. Tagging for reblog to @creativepromptfills

Cassie Valentine watched the scenery gradually change once they left the Boston area. Low-rise office and apartment buildings competed with strip malls and box stores built near interstate exits to attract suburban shoppers.

Eventually, the vista gave way to evergreen trees and those beginning to bloom again after a harsh New England winter planted along either side of the highway.

The view was monotonous, but thankfully, she thought the drive wasn’t excessively long and checked her wristwatch. The stop at Harvard Medical School’s research building to collect the phage therapy had taken longer than expected, and the sun already hung low in the sky.

Her phone remained silent, and she took that as a sign that Dr. Banerji was still holding on. Landry would have texted or called if his status had changed. At least, Cassie hoped so.

Two months ago, she’d have said she knew Landry Olsen very well. But now she wondered if she saw the person she wanted to see, not who he really was.

They had bonded on the first day of residency over their mutual admiration for Dr. Ethan Ramsey. But the man was also the source of their fallout. Landry’s jealousy of her bond with their medical hero had caused him to sabotage her career.

She rationalized that Landry could’ve tried to get to know Dr. Ramsey. Even before she knew about Naveen’s condition, she had tried to get Ethan to notice her. But her former friend had been content to pine from the sidelines, never once introducing himself properly to the other doctor.

She’d had to ask for Ethan’s autograph on Landry’s behalf, for crying out loud!

“Are you okay? Is it Naveen?”

Cassie turned her head at the alarm in Ethan’s voice beside her. His brows furrowed in concern as he glanced at the phone in her hand.

“Yes…I mean…no,” she stammered. “Sorry! I was lost in thought.”

“Must have been something bad,” he drawled, accelerating to overtake the car before them. “You looked ready to go into battle.”

“Nothing quite so dramatic. Although,” Cassie mused. “I suppose fighting for my medical license would fall in that category.”

“An apt analogy,” he said quietly.

Cassie twisted in her seat to face Ethan. “Have you ever been subject to an ethics trial?”

She wondered if she had gone too far, but he answered anyway.

“No, but I’ve skirted close to the line. All good doctors do,” he added. “Our work isn’t black or white; the answers aren’t always obvious. So, we have to take chances even if, and especially when, the outcome is uncertain. Naveen taught me that.”

His voice hitched on the last, and she found his vulnerability incredibly appealing. The companionable silence stretched as the car ate up the miles.

Cassie glanced at Ethan out of the corner of her eye, surreptitiously studying the scruffy jaw, the corded muscles of his neck and how his Adam’s apple moved when he swallowed.

She felt her cheeks turn red as she recalled standing in his bedroom, her naked butt plastered against the floor-to-ceiling glass walls. Her hands locked behind his head, pulling him close while his tongue repeatedly brought her to the edge of completion.

His hands gripped the steering wheel, and she remembered how tightly he’d clasped her hands in his last night just before their hips connected. Her mind wandered into a fantasy that was just as good as reality.

He was clothed now, but she’d run her hands across the taut muscles of his chest and strong shoulders last night. Her nails had raked down his naked back before her palms cupped his ass, her hips rising to meet his hard thrusts, her moans matching his grunts.

Oh god. She’d had sex with the Ethan Ramsey!

“Now what?”

She must have made a sound, for he briefly took his eyes off the road to stare at her, an eyebrow quirked in question.

“We had sex, Ethan,” Cassie blurted, losing her composure at the sight of impatient blue eyes, so much like how she remembered them from the first time they met.

He smirked. “Yes, we did. Multiple times if I recall correctly.”

Amused, Ethan winked at her before switching lanes and exiting the interstate. The car slowed to a stop at a red light at the top of the off-ramp, and he grinned at her.

“Are you blushing? Didn't have you pegged for a prude, Cassie.” His fingers traced her hot cheeks, and he stared intently at her lips. “Especially not after you mooned all of Boston last night.”

“Oh, just shut up, I’m not blushing!” she protested, wondering if there was any way she could check her reflection in the overhead visor mirror without Ethan noticing.

He chuckled, the deep rumble reminiscent of round two last night when she’d begged him to let her climax after he’d teased her over and over with his hands and tongue. Just like then, the sound sent a spike of lust and arousal through her body.

“For the record,” he drawled, leaning in, his lips hovering above hers. “You’re cute when you’re embarrassed.”

Cassie waited for the kiss with bated breath, but the light turned green, and the driver behind them honked.

Ethan lifted his hand in a wave and took his foot off the brake, turning left to join the country road toward Naveen’s place. Cassie remembered the turn-off from the drive earlier today and knew they had maybe fifteen-twenty minutes left.

Time to get serious, she lectured herself. Naveen and Landry were highly observant, and she needed to keep her emotions for Ethan under wraps.

A short while later, they were on a dirt road and could see the top of Naveen’s cabin ahead. Ethan parked the car beside a wood shed, switched off the engine and just sat there, staring unseeingly at the cabin walls outside.

“There’s still hope, Ethan,” she said gently, remembering his self-incriminating words earlier about letting his mentor down. “For you and Naveen, too. Your relationship isn’t broken.”

“I don’t know what we are, but I miss what we were,” he said. His earlier lightheartedness was replaced by profound sadness.

“And what is that?” she asked.

“Naveen believes in you, and I do too,” she insisted when Ethan didn’t respond.

Ethan twisted his lips wryly. He covered her hand resting on the console between them and squeezed it in silent gratitude.

Cassie longed to wrap her arms around him and pull him close in comfort. But someone might be watching from inside, and their alone time was at an end.

“We should go in, Dr. Ramsey,” Cassie said, pushing the car door open.

Ethan shook himself out of his reverie and turned to give her a small smile. “Yes, our patient awaits, Dr. Valentine.”

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

All Fics & Edits: @annfg8 @bluebelle08 @coffeeheartaddict2 @crazy-loca-blog @doriopenheart @genevievemd @headoverheelsforramsey @lucy-268 @jamespotterthefirst @jerzwriter @lady-calypso @mainstreetreader @peonierose @potionsprefect @queencarb @quixoticdreamer16 @rookiemartin @socalwriterbee @takemyopenheart @tessa-liam @trappedinfanfiction

Submissions: @choicesficwriterscreations @openheartfanfics

Ethan & Cassie only: @cariantha @custaroonie @hopelessromantic1352 @mrs-ramsey

[terrence-silver]

Would Terry be homewrecker?

---

Absolutely.

I don't even necessarily think he goes as far as sleeping with someone else's spouse, or rather, going as far as making the infidelity physical or sexual, because listen, I think he understands that isn't always needed. Sometimes, emotional cheating is just as good. How about throwing in a wrench? Planting the tiniest seed of doubt that can sprout a gigantic tree if you water it carefully enough? Placing the apple of discourse inside of a marriage or a relationship? Watching everything spiral into chaos from the sidelines, withholding impish giggles? He stirred the cauldron a bit and he'll get to watch it boil over.

Now, that's where the actual fun lies.

That's what he did with the Larusso's marriage.

He didn't sleep with anyone.

He merely told Amanda the truth knowing what it would do.

That's his tactic.

You know, like giving one of the partners the odd passing complement that could lead to an argument later down the line. Invoking jealousy in a really unassuming, understated way. Encouraging negativity all while pretending to be the voice of reason, logic and self-care. Making two people paranoid at each other. Playing that long con. Stirring up the pot for fights and discussions. Bringing up past wrongs all casually with an air of clueless innocence, like he only ever did that accidentally (or whoops, as a well meaning slip-up), without it being premeditated --- which it always is. It is always premeditated. Being the slow, patient worm that devours a marriage or a home from the inside until it falls apart on it's own because the two partners destroyed their own harmony brick by brick thanks to him, neither of them realizing that if they're pitted against each other, it is due to him as an outside force and less so themselves. He was just there to wind them up and move out of the way. He doesn't need to fuck someone's wife to achieve this, although, trust and believe, that yes, he'd go that far if need be. He would absolutely set fertile grounds for an infidelity to take place and he'd took the utmost pleasure in the whole affair as it took place. But, what I'm saying is --- ain't always a requirement for him.

Being the puppet master also meanings being unnoticed.

Not quite as in your face as a cheater.

Terry Silver is that friend who puts on his most angelic, saintly face while also deliberately giving you the worst advice ever concerning your own marriage or relationship (or really, anything else you could imagine), meaning that he can wreck a home, wreck a family, wreck a marriage, wreck anything he wants without it ever becoming sexual. Romantic. Without anyone laying up with anybody. In fact, he is so skillful at this that he can very well have both of the partners in question, both of his targeted victims, ending up thankful to him in the end. He could come out of the situation as the good guy. Imagine that. Bob's thankful Terry pointed out that Brenda doesn't appreciate his achievements well enough, always undervaluing him and his attempts and Brenda is thankful Terry was honest enough to point out that Bob, indeed, is a self centered asshole who totally neglected their romance and that she deserves better. And, oh, look, now they're living separated and 'taking time off' after twenty years of marriage and he did that all while pretending to be a devoted, concerned pal to both of them. Just a random example I made up, of course. He could be there, loaning one of his countless venues to his aggrieved friend Bob, who no longer has where to stay after the missus took all the things in the divorce, including the dog. What's worse? He comes off seeming like a champion. Like the angel on your shoulder, in your ear, who's actually been the devil in disguise all along.

-"Man, Terry, if you weren't here, I really wouldn't know what to do. Who to turn to. I really owe you. Bigtime!"-

He's like a rotten apple that inserts himself into a cart of healthy ones.

Spoiling all the others in the process.

And you possibly don't even notice the rotten apple present, until it is too late.

[kayakoto-enterprises]

Burmean Python [2/2]

Do it. Do it. Do it. Part 2 of 2. Please read the first part before proceeding!

I love these messy lesbians and I'll finally draw them tomorrow!

General warnings that apply for BTTWNS in general (gore, drugging, torture). Also a bit suggestive but not explicit in some areas.

I had to stop and catch my breath. When the telephone rang out as loud as death.

What does anatomy permit? What does it limit? Mice eat seeds, cats eat mice, jackals kill cats, bears kill jackals- that's the way the world works. Some people are just meant to be killed to make ends meet. How do you put this reality lightly? Julianne is such a sensitive soul. She cries over wasted food. Her ears obviously droop when she gets scared. She's always asking people if they're alright. I always knew about the bad relationships she found herself in. The people she attached herself to. The person she killed. Honestly if it wasn't a jackal I would've been happier.

It sounds insensitive to say out loud in any way one could put it. Maybe you shouldn't tell your girlfriend she's well far down the food chain. A domesticated cat, no less: they have zero hunting skills, they're quite spoilt, and lazier than any other critter I've seen in my lifetime. When I woke up this morning I turned to my side to wake up my guest but was left disappointed nobody was there. When you wake up next to a murderer what do you do?

I'm sure she's in her apartment still sleeping. She's next to her plushies and she's going to the city and meet with a client. Later she'll eat the beef bowl she always orders at Guy's on her way home. Then she'll find her favorite cake on her favorite plate from her favorite girl on their anniversary.

Today, the world revolved like nothing had happened last night. Nobody wondered why there was a screaming match at my house. Nobody had asked me about my relationship today. A slow afternoon commenced like usual. I opened up my journal and noticed the wedding invitation slip under the counter. Picking it up from the upside, Kaku's cursive handwriting said "Ms. Strong & Ms. Lucky". I opened it up to read the details. Ticking every benchmark a Woodbrook wedding would have. At the chapel. At 2 pm. A lakeside reception. No white. Wear blue and yellow- it's tropical.

"To be held...on November 17th, 1987. RSVP for 2."

On this slow fall afternoon there was nothing after me after all. I've just attracted a swarm of wasps on myself. I pushed the envelope flap back and pressed, pocketing it in my jacket.

The folded bike slid neatly into the cabinet next to the door. I went to open the radio to fill out the empty space. I've stayed alone for 20 years but I somehow couldn't bear a night with my own thoughts. I set a dinner set for two almost like routine. Something new's been hardwired into my system. Longing to not be alone. Longing to have something to hold me back. A safety net. A harness. Handcuffs. I closed my eyes holding the spare pillow I bought for her.

I opened my eyes greeted by a headache and a thick fog that surrounded the forests of Golden Apple City. I had wrapped my apron into a makeshift pillow and my toolbag was missing from my side. I jolted up in panic running through foliage keeping my eyes open for it. A loose branch tripped me off my balance and I landed face down on the stream from my new camp. Someone set up my hoist. Peeking behind a tree there were wild jackals swarming the body hung on it. They began licking the fresh wound pouring with blood before they could begin their business. Despite the deep cut on the carotid artery it was wincing, struggling and still aware of the torture it was going through. Once the fog began to clear around the injured body, my mind shut down when I recognized it was Julianne struggling to get off the mechanism. She began wiggling about to loosen the rope on her ankles and hit the floor once the tripod lost its balance. Her face planted into the plate pooling her blood and she began panthing looking around her for help. Her eyes met mine and she ran. I chased after her to the end of the thick forest and into the altar. She fell to the ground weakly and called for Kaku and Liv's help. "I'm live bait" she screamed "Sam set me up in there and watched me get torn to shreds. God saw what she did."

Fuck. It can't be, can it? Someone knows and someone is gonna tell. I have to do something. And I need to do it quick.

The essentials are here. Knives. Ropes. Gloves. Syringes. Plastic. An excuse. I stuffed as much painless remedies as I could in a flurry of sweat and fear. I started the truck and quickly made my way to the edge of town where the Sunset Valley apartments stood. I put on my jacket walking to the entrance of the complex. Visiting hours are over it seems. There's still a chance she's awake. Looking up to the 5th floor, the window with a fake stained glass design was still wide open. The lights were dim as usual but she's surely awake at this hour.

Cling, cling, cling... Cling, cling, cling...

That should attract her to cautiously look around her. She nervously peered out the window, sleepy eyes widening seeing me right outside. Her paws gestured to keep myself quiet. I only replied to her that we needed to talk now. Her green eyes widened then drooped, nodding before locking the window. Minutes later, Julianne was downstairs in a cami top and shorts. I checked my watch- yes, it's 2:27 am.

"It's so late.." She began "Why are you still awake?" "Same question for you." I shrugged, unlocking the door for her "Were you going to sleep?" "I already was but I couldn't. I don't know why." Julianne yawned, stretching her arms up as her teeth chattered instinctively again. "Let's..talk about..yesterday...at our favorite hiding place." The truck slowly drove its way down town, dreading what could happen next.

About that first question,

What does anatomy permit? What does it limit?

Python bivittatus, also known as the Burmean Python, is a choke artist. It is powerful enough to kill a deer. To be able to kill such a large pest, they bite their prey then quickly coil around it- crushing their air supply and autonomy, and only then can it spread its venom into the bloodstream. The bigger the prey, the more energy it takes. It's taking a year. It only took a year for this to begin falling apart. I've bitten into her. She's excitable, eager for touch or affection of any kind even when it stings. It makes her melt when I place my palms on her round figure. She purrs when I comb her fur. She's already been marked as my prop. My decorative toy. And she likes the role. Coil around her by being ever present in her lonely life. Give her a space to stay in my house. Invite myself into her space. Spend nights in the forest looking at the stars. Break those protective walls and defenses until she's completely in my palm ready to serve. I remember one night I stayed over after a trip to the city. The warm dim lights invited me immediately to bed, my body sore from harboring a moose to and from the truck that afternoon. It was a big catch- I would have said if I was stupid enough. Julianne sat next to me and asked if I wanted to order in dinner. I shook my head then absentmindedly crawled to lay my head on her lap. She laughed and called me adorable. Her paws ran through my fur. I could hear her purring. I rolled back to look up at her, admiring her soft features lit by the moon outside. I asked her if I could hear one story before I crashed in again.

"Personal, Public Domain, or Original?" She held me closer to her chest like a stuffed animal.

"Whatever you can think of now."

"Well...once upon a time, there was a princess who woke up in a tower. It was dilapidated, gloomy, and cold. There was barely anything in the tower. A bed, a shelf, a bag full of clothes, and a sword were her only company until smoke filled the room. She looked out the window and saw a fierce dragon guarding the prison."

"However, upon further inspection she found that the dragon was also chained. Its bounds connected to the tower itself. It was shaking in fear. At first the princess was afraid that if she stepped out of line, the dragon would fly away, crushing the tower down with her. But it was timid and pitied the princess. They both had no idea how the princess got trapped in the first place. Hell knows its not the dragon who did it. They were clueless but they bonded over their imprisonment. The dragon grew close to love the princess. It swore to protect her from everything that came into the cave they were in. Many men, princes of every kingdom came to save the damsel but the dragon burnt them to a crisp."

"One day, the princess' father came with an army of men angered that the dragon had killed all the men he offered his daughter up to. Thousands climbed the tower to retrieve the prize. Hundreds stabbed the dragon to stabalize it. They were both screaming for help. Afraid of what would happen inside the tower, the dragon flew up. The tower tumbled over the army and killing the princess inside it."

Suddenly my sleepiness left me as I sat back up to process the story. "You can't make childrens' books with stories like that, Sweetie. That's so sad." I said, looking up to the glow in the dark stars on her short cieling. She laid next to me moments later, tickling her fingers to intertwine with mine.

"Yeah but it's interesting though, right? People who love each other stuck in their own prisons."

I looked back to her and slowly blinked. She repeated the gesture.

"How'd you know that?"

"Melody and I used to...do things."

"Huh." There was a saddened look on her face. I quickly pacified it by pulling her closer to me, squishing her soft sides to tease her. She pulled her ears back.

"Well forget about that now, she's still obsessed with her husband, Hun. There's nothing I can do especially when I have you." Then here it comes: the venom. I parked in front of the elementary school building. This shouldn't take long. I took her hand as we walked through the uneven earth. Some of the rocks that used to be visible had been consumed by the kudzu. We agreed it was less of an eyesore now until we nearly tripped on its branches. The moon was high above us, guiding us to a clearing surrounded by oak.

"I'm sorry." I whispered, cupping her right cheek as I kissed the left from behind her. I reached for a syringe filled with curare. Positioning her closer to me, I flicked the cap off, ready to pierce the skin. My hands were shaky. I fought against the thought of backing off. She knew too much. She had to go. Now.

"Don't move."

She stood still with her fists clenched then began toying with her hands. A cold chill swept around us and her tail flew up blocking the bullseye.

I dropped it. My hands redirected to taking off my jacket and wrapping it around her like a blanket. Julianne turned around when she felt the weight of the clothing on her shoulders.

"Just put it on. It's cold here."

She obediently nodded, putting it on and noticing it was a bit too big for her. I quickly picked up the open syringe and cap, hiding it in my back pocket. I looked at my shaky hands. It was hard to even keep something still in my hands.

"Is there something wrong with your hand?"

Julianne put hers into mine. Like magic the anxiety running through them calmed.

"No. Let's sit down, shall we?"

The wind continued to blow against our fur sitting on the tall grass. We stared at the craters of the moon for hours with the right words stuck in our throats. Julianne rested her chin on my shoulder.

"Are you ever afraid of being alone?" She asked. "I can live on my own. I don't need anyone. But living with you for almost a year now puts a lot of things into perspective. I do like company. Just when they aren't trying to get me in jail or trying to sleep with me through murder...when they're naive." "Do you think I'm naive?" "Just a little bit. But that's what you are when you're young. You're excited. But everytime I pursue something in a relationship, it has to end with me being alone. It's my nature. I'll always be alone."

Julianne frowned. She began to tear up but stopped herself from feeling further.

"I'm still here, Samantha." "Why?" "I dunno. I'm a fool I guess. And you're a sweetheart, you know? Even if you try and tell me that you're nothing like what you put on for Woodbrook, when we're alone you look at me fondly and you smile. I never knew that feeling until you make me think about it."

I reached back to completely hide the syringe. I felt guilty for once trying to kill someone.

"I look at you like that because you make rooms feel nice. And it isn't fake or anything." "So I'm not just bottom of the food chain junk to you after all." "What? No, no you're not. It's just a pessimistic philosophy I've enrolled into when I was young for survival's sake. I'm telling you now you don't believe in it or else you'll end up like me."

I brushed her tears away with my thumb and peppered kisses on her forehead.

"I'll keep your secret, okay? You just promise me one thing.." "Even if I killed a jackal?" "You could've killed a lion. I'll keep my mouth shut."

She buried her face into her kneecaps in shame. I continued to brush the fur on her upper back, sprinkling in a few tickles on her sensitive spots. After a while she sat back up giggling between sniffles.

"H-hey, I'm weak there." "I know. I know what I'm doing." "I hope you do.."

She invited me down to lay on the grass, pressing her soft body down as kissed her. This new energy release and repeat satiated the need I felt that night. I still couldn't keep my hands still. They were wandering around her. I couldn't let that go. Not yet. Not now. Oh god not ever if I can. "Sam, I-I can't wait for you to get better. I need you, you know? You can kill all the critters, I'd prefer if you didn't, but there's nothing you can say or do that'd drive me away."

"I'm not someone to look up to, Julianne."

"I'm an awful person too, dammit. Let me also be jealous and ugly."

I carried her into my arms and cradled her like a doll. I felt her tummy through the fabric of the jacket but before I could tease her further I remembered something was inside its inner pockets.

"Unzip that for me, please?" "Middle of the forest, honey." "No, not that, Jesus. There's something I wanna show you." I put up the invitation from Kaku. Julianne's eyes immediately grew bigger.

"Ohhh oh they're getting married? Already?! Wow this is such nice paper..." Julianne carefully flipped through the stationery.

"They've been around Woodbrook for ten years now. It makes sense they'll marry. Seen them since I was in college."

"Huh. If it's tropical themed, why won't Liv just get married on the beach.."

"Too expensive..hey, do you have a blue dress?" I redirected her focus on the little footnote on the dress code. She looked at me and shook her head.

"I gotta look. All the stuff I display is pink or brown or white. I think I do..." She looked back up at the stars before looking back to me.

"I'm glad we talked this through. Or over. Or under. I couldn't sleep without someone next to me now it's stupid."

"Aww. Do you want me to sleep at your place?"

Julianne slowly tilted her head as she blinked.

"It'd be an honor."

[marleyybluu]

Times Two

Another one of Rio being a dad :) cus why not

again no warnings

word count: 1.6k

Miserable. She was miserable. The swollen feet, the enlarged ankles, the back aches, the growing breasts-- she was absolutely over being pregnant and to her demise she still had a long way to go. Kiana huffed and puffed as she paced back and forth in the kitchen gathering snacks to put in her stepson, Marcus' lunch bag. "Let's go, knucklehead!" She shouted tossing in a little bag of chips and zipping up his lunch. Sneaky footsteps could be heard entering the kitchen, she didn't have to guess who it was when those loving arms scooped her from behind.

"Why you calling my son a knucklehead?" His raspy voice asked, Kiana chuckled leaning into him. "'cause the apple don't fall too far from the tree." She was just joking and her husband knew that. From the moment Rio had introduced his son Marcus to his girlfriend they clicked almost immediately, Marcus was usually a shy kid when it came to anyone who wasn't his mother and any previous women he's introduced the boy to he never stuck to them as much as he stuck to her.

She loved him he was a great kid, he was funny, he was sweet and he was definitely charming just like his father. Rio knew then and there that he had to marry her and so he did, she had no problem including her new son in their wedding even allowing him to give a little speech.

"How are my babies this morning?" He asked referring to her and the growing human inside. "Tired, hungry, heavy." Kiana sighed turning in his hold, her bottom lip poked out. He smiled planting a reassuring kiss on her lips. Rio felt like it was almost impossible to fall even more in love with this woman but when she told him she was pregnant he had been proven wrong. She may have felt like she wasn't as pretty or "aesthetically" pleasing as any other pregnant mom she saw on Instagram but he looked at her like she was the most precious gem he discovered.

Seeing her this way made him calculate how many times in their life she'd be walking around like that. He narrowed it down to three... maybe four. He loved waiting on her hand and foot, she barely moved, and he wouldn't even let her carry a laundry basket across the hall let alone up the stairs. Kiana loved her princess treatment, she was getting it before but the baby made Rio go all out.

An audible gag was heard behind them followed by a dramatically dragged-out. "Ewwww!" Marcus wailed covering his eyes. The couple laughed into their kiss giving each other one more peck before they fell apart. Rio turned to his son hoisting him in his arms and over his shoulder. "Leave me and ya moms alone. It's school time." He carried the little boy like that and headed out the door and out to the car.

Kiana gathered what she needed which included her phone, her purse, her keys and Marcus' lunch bag. Soon she followed behind her boys locking up the house and waddling down the pathway to the car. Rio held his laugh together, he just found the way she walked was so cute.

"Stop." She warned as she got closer, the word triggered his laugh but he quickly swallowed it. "Sorry."

He helped her inside the car and once she was settled he made his way to the driver's side. He drove off to his son's school, the ride was oddly quiet assuming Marcus was probably still tired and his wife was probably just irritated for no particular reason other than hormones.

Rio took a glance at her and reached over taking her hand in his. "You nervous about today?" She nodded. Today she had a doctor's appointment, just the usual to see how she and the baby were doing but she was nervous that they would tell her something was wrong, this pregnancy was weird for her she didn't know if she was supposed to feel so... stuffed.

She felt like she was already at full term. But her husband reassured her that everyone's pregnancy was different, which wasn't a lie.

"Marcus, we're finding out whether you get a sister or brother, which one are you hoping for?" Rio asked involving his son in their conversation. The young boy looked up from his iPad. "A brother."

Kiana playfully scoffed. "What? No sister?"

He shrugged. "Maybe next time."

Their jaws dropped. "Next time? Oh lord, he said next time." She giggled. "I mean, he's not wrong." Kiana snatched her hand from his and playfully flicked him in the head.

They took one last turn and arrived at their child's school, he placed his iPad on the seat next to him and swapped it for his bags, he leaned into the space between his parents giving them kisses on their cheeks. "Have a good day my love." Kiana beamed. "Love you kiddo," Rio added. They watched him safely enter the school before leaving the property.

Kiana sat in anticipation as they got closer to the doctor's office, the wait inside was no different, her leg bounced constantly but subsided when Rio placed his hand on her knee. "Everything's gonna be fine baby." He said kissing under her jaw.

They were called into a room soon having Kiana seated on the higher almost reclined seat, she laid back looking over at Rio whose eyes were all on her. "What do you think we're having?" She asked breaking the silence. "A girl."

She smiled. "Oh lord, a little girl with both our attitudes? How the hell do we handle that?"

He shrugged taking a step toward her. "Think it'd be cute having another version of you around."

"Hm, two girls to have you wrapped around our finger. I'm not mad at it."

"Got enough to spoil the both of you." He murmured leaning down, her hands cupping his cheek bringing him closer until their lips touched. No matter how many times they kiss it would always feels like the first, all sappy and sweet.

The door creaked open announcing their doctor had just walked in. "That's why yall are here in the first place."

Kiana blushed hiding her face. "Hey, girl."

"Hello to my favourite couple. How's Marcus?" She asked looking up at Rio. "He's doin' great, just dropped him off at school."

The conversation wrapped up as the screen turned on, Kiana flinched at the cold jelly being spread under her stomach, she'd never gotten used to that.

Rio and Kiana both watched as the wand searched around her belly, a loud warped sound boomed through the room. Rio's eyes almost sparkled knowing that he was hearing his baby's heartbeat.

"So far so good, baby Rio is moving around trying to get comfortable."

Kiana rolled her eyes, she'd been calling the fetus that since it was the size of a kidney bean.

"All while making mommy uncomfortable." Kiana groaned. "You're still feeling heavy huh?"

She nodded. The doctor concentrated on the screen trying to see if she could find anything internally that was causing her patient to be in such discomfort.

"Maybe it's just a... big baby, girl I don't- oh."

Both their heads snapped. "What oh? There's no oh. What oh?" Kiana panicked. "So, don't shoot the messenger but someone has an extra hand... extra two hands, and extra two legs." She smiled soft balling it in.

The soon-to-be mom looked at the screen assuming she was having an alien baby of some sort. "You're having twins."

Silence. Dead silence. Neither knew how to feel, there didn't seem to be an established emotion for this. Rio's shock broke into a smile. "Twins?"

"Christopher, what the hell did you do to me?" She whined. He put his hands up in surrender but was lowkey proud of himself for giving her two kids in one go. "Where the hell did that one come from?"

"It's not the first time I've seen this, sometimes the other baby will hide behind the first one up until they both need more room and then they come out of hiding."

"Twins," Rio repeated. "Still want to know what you're having?"

Kiana nodded. "Alright, so," The camera moved around. "Baby A is a girl, and baby B is... another girl. Congratulatiooons."

Rio was over the moon, so content with the news that he felt like crying but he held himself up. The doctor cleaned off Kiana and left the two in the room to discuss. "Well, I guess that answers why I feel so damn heavy, there's another knucklehead in there."

"How do you feel?" He asked rubbing her back. "How am I supposed to push two out? I wasn't even sure how I was going to push one out."

He didn't answer her he just stared, she squinted wondering why the hell he wasn't freaking out like she was. His tongue swiped across his pouty bottom lip, he moved his right hand from inside his pocket bringing it up to her hair, he gently moved a braid over her shoulder so she could see every inch of her face. "Why are you not going crazy?"

"Because I know that I have an amazing and strong wife, my kids have a wonderful mother in their life. And I think you and I are a pretty great team. So I know that when the day finally comes, we're going to be just fine."

She hummed in appreciation, they shared a quick smooch before he helped her onto her feet. "Now, what do my babies want to eat?"

"Literally anything that's covered in grease."

He laughed, "You got it, mamas."

[loudlyhappycupcake]

Danger Mouse and Chely Audi: A Magical Meeting

Danger Mouse, the fearless secret agent, decided it was time to pay a visit to his old friend, Chely Audi, the magical girl. Though their worlds were quite different, they shared a deep bond forged in the face of countless adventures.

Chely's home was a magical realm hidden deep within a shimmering forest, filled with enchanted creatures and mystical wonders. As Danger Mouse stepped through a hidden portal, he was greeted by a burst of color and a sweet, melodic tune. Chely, with her sparkling eyes and flowing robes, was waiting for him with a warm smile.

"It's been too long, Danger!" she exclaimed, embracing him in a friendly hug.

They spent the afternoon exploring the magical realm, marveling at the towering trees that seemed to whisper secrets, and the playful fairies that danced in the sunlight. Chely showed Danger the enchanted library, where ancient scrolls held the secrets of the universe, and the hidden garden, where rare and exotic plants bloomed.

Danger Mouse, ever the curious one, asked Chely about her latest adventures. She told him of a powerful sorcerer who was plotting to steal the magical heart of the realm. Danger Mouse, knowing his friend's bravery, offered to help.

Together, they embarked on a perilous quest, facing treacherous creatures and solving challenging puzzles. With Danger Mouse's cunning and Chely's magic, they eventually defeated the sorcerer and restored peace to the realm.

As the sun began to set, casting a golden glow over the magical land, Danger Mouse and Chely sat on a hilltop, overlooking the peaceful landscape. They shared laughter and stories, their friendship stronger than ever.

Before it was time for Danger Mouse to return to his own world, Chely presented him with a magical amulet, a token of their friendship. With a grateful heart, Danger Mouse accepted the gift, knowing that he would always cherish their time together.

As he stepped through the portal, he turned one last time to wave goodbye to his magical friend. Chely waved back, a smile on her face. Danger Mouse knew that no matter how far apart they were, their friendship would always be a guiding star in their lives.

@shironezuninja @evander2511 @homuncvlus @billyjoelmutt @miniaturejudgeturkeytree @evaiskindaweird @untitled14360 @twiliartsdreams2017 @twinklemaddie @cartoonfan21 @wolfie245 @sakulovejulius12 @lillywhynot8098 @punk-63 @leo-x-u-raptor-fan @collector-noceda-clawthorne @aamericanotaku @pinkdiamondstar @chaodeknoi @clairaquos @bossbabyfan2 @bloodmoon24 @enchantedchocolatebars @niyatales4ever @jazzyrazzy157 @moonlighteclipse17 @dianathunderamazon-blog @gametoon @gamebruh12 @disneyblabberlover @buy-some-motherfuckin-apples-iv @butterfly7267 @roxxywolf-multiversa @ajaxus166 @sufan136 @freyzw0rld @princessfandom812 @princessesfanarts @princesshillaryellaworld25 @broadwaygirl918 @princess-paige-place-of-fun @ellie67

[kirayaykimura]

This is the 2023 Trope Madness prize rightfully won by @traditional-with-a-twist. I hope you like it.

There was a fox in the forest one early summer morning. That in and of itself was not unusual. What was unusual was the way he spoke. 

“Why, good morning, Miss,” the fox purred. “Barely dawn and you’re already out in the woods. What brings you?” 

Fog wound itself around the fox’s rust red paws, stubbornly clinging to the forest floor even as the sun was just beginning to chase it off. The fox’s tail swiped through the haze to wrap itself around his paws instead. He sat politely and stared up at her, unblinking. 

Well, Shirayuki supposed, she was not an expert on everything in the world. Who was to say talking foxes hadn’t always existed, and she simply hadn’t come across one? 

“Good morning, Mister Fox,” she said. 

“What business have you in this here fine forest?” the fox asked. 

She replied, “I am here to gather some plants.” 

“For what purpose?” The fox licked his lips. “Lunch, perhaps?” 

“Medicine. I work in an apothecary.”

“You’re an apothecary.”

“An assistant apothecary.” 

“So you are used to helping people in need.” 

“I try,” Shirayuki said. She crouched low to get as close to eye level as she could to the fox then. It felt strange to stand so far above him when she asked, “Do you need help, Mister Fox?” 

“Who, me?” He rose onto all fours and turned away with a swish of his tail, nose in the air. He took two steps away from Shirayuki, then turned to look at her out of the corner of his eye. “I need no help. You, however…” 

“Me?” Shirayuki prompted when the fox simply trailed off without further explanation. 

The fox sauntered back to his original place in front of Shirayuki, though he did not sit this time. He said, “It is only that these trees do not like interlopers.”

“I promise I won’t do anything harmful while I’m here.” 

“Yes, but they can’t exactly trust your word as a stranger, you know. If, however, you had someone to vouch for your good character, they would let you do as you please. And I would be happy to vouch for your clearly upstanding character if only you agree to do three things for me.”

Sly, golden eyes that had previously been flitting all around the forest in a show of disinterest finally met her gaze and held it, waiting for an answer. 

“Alright,” Shirayuki said. 

On a normal day, she would be opposed to being tricked and coerced in this manner. As this was not a normal day, and as the fox was clearly too proud to ask for the help he clearly needed, she decided to play along. 

“Just like that?” the fox asked, clearly in disbelief. 

“Alright, I will hear you out.” 

“Careful, Miss. Words have meaning, and unless you are specific with yours someone might take advantage.”

“I tend to believe people are good if given the opportunity to be good.” 

“What a dangerous way to live,” the fox said softly. Then, shaking off the moment, he said, “First, you must take me home with you. Second, you must feed me from your plate when you eat. Third, you must let me sleep in your bed with you.” 

“For how long?” 

“One day and one night.” 

Only for today? She could handle that. She held out her hand and said, “I agree to your terms, Mister Fox.” 

His glanced at her outstretched hand, an approximation of a smirk flitting across his maw. After a moment, he placed his paw in her palm and let her shake it. 

“Please,” he said, voice low and honeyed, “call me Obi.” 

As early morning bled into afternoon, Shirayuki went about her business. Obi followed close on her heels when she moved, and watched her work from the shade when she stopped to gather this or that. When the work was done, they returned to Shirayuki’s modest apartment at the edge of town and shared a simple meal of bread and apples - from the same plate, of course, as per Obi’s earlier stipulation. After, she set about sorting what she’d gathered while Obi poked his snout curiously into just about every inch of her home. More than once, she heard something wobble precariously, only to hear a shout of, “It’s alright, Miss! Nothing to worry about over here!” 

The time inevitably came, after the sun had disappeared from the sky and Shirayuki had shared her second meal of the day, to confront Obi’s final stipulation. She took in mud caked around his paws, the sauce from the evening’s meal staining the white fur around his mouth, and began filling the bath. 

Obi took a lot of convincing, but he learned there was no denying Shirayuki when she’d set her mind to something. That something at the moment just happened to be letting her scrub between his toes. 

“You know,” Obi said, sounding mortified, “most people simply kick me out at this point so I don’t dirty their bed.” 

“That’s awful,” Shirayuki said and continued scrubbing. 

Humiliation complete, Obi was allowed to curl up on a towel on one side of Shirayuki’s small bed. She slid under the covers on the other side, having just enough room to lay on her side. She chose the side that would allow her to have Obi at the small of her back rather than spoon him. It felt more dignified if slightly less hospitable. 

“Goodnight,” Shirayuki said once she’d settled. “I hope you sleep well.” 

“This is it?” Obi asked after a moment of silence. “You’re really going to let me sleep here. No questions or tricks?” 

“Of course.” 

“Why?” 

She peeked over her shoulder and found him watching her with evident confusion and more than a little wariness. Like he was waiting for her to kick him out of her bed at any moment. She wondered how many times he’d tried to ask for help and been denied. She swallowed the indignation on his behalf that welled inside her at the thought and said, “Because you asked me to.” 

The rest of the night was not comfortable. Shirayuki was so unused to sharing a bed with anyone - man or creature - that she stirred at every slight movement from her current companion. At one point, he pushed up against her back so forcefully she thought she might topple right over onto the floor, but she managed to hold her ground. 

She gave up any hope for sleep at the first sign of dawn. It was fine. She’d slept less in her life. Honestly, she would have been fine not sleeping at all and giving Obi the bed, but it seemed like they needed to share the bed for anything to work. So yes, the lack of sleep was fine. The man in her bed was most certainly not. 

“Who are you?” she demanded, already across the room, back pressed against a wall and all of her attention on the stranger in front of her. Her hands shook as anger flooded her veins. Someone had taken the liberty to sneak into her house and into her bed in the middle of the night. The absolute gall. 

The man’s eyes went from sleepy and half-open to fully alert in no time at all. He glanced down at himself, discovered he was nude, and hastily covered himself with the bit of sheet that Shirayuki had claimed the night before. 

“It’s not what it looks like,” the man said. He seemed to get distracted by his own hand then, and let out a laugh. He looked over at her again and said, “Miss, you did it! You broke the curse.” 

Slowly, groggily, Shirayuki’s mind put together the pieces. The golden eyes. The lack of fox in her apartment. The Miss. She didn’t know what to expect at the end of all this, but it certainly wasn’t a man with shoulders so broad they nearly took up the entire bed. She’d seen men naked before, of course, but something about this particular naked man had her cheeks flushing. She averted her gaze to the ceiling to give them both some semblance of privacy and said, “I take it you’re Obi? Or were Obi?” 

“Still am, Miss.” In the very edges of her periphery she was trying her best to ignore, she saw him nod.  

“Oh,” she said. “Well, that’s good then. Congratulations.” 

Any potential awkwardness was dispelled easily when Obi said, “Thank you. For everything.” 

“You’re welcome,” she said. 

Obi insisted on making her breakfast as an official thank you gesture. Her stomach agreed before she did. Breakfast turned into lunch, and Obi never left. They lived happily ever after.

[theosilvas]

pedro pascal / 48 / cismale —have you noticed that THEO SILVA is back in town? the BARTENDER is apparently pretty LOYAL, but HE can also be a little JUDGEMENTAL. HE is always blasting IN THE AIR TONIGHT by PHIL COLLINS, as it makes them think of something from their past. i hope the VIRGO has a better time here than most.

tw: illness, death, homophobia

At the age of seven, nearly eight, the Silva family were the targets of a home robbery that left Theo without parents and sent to live with his Uncles at the other end of the continent. They always wanted kids, but not like this.

Uncle Evan was the brother of Theo's mom, but Theo developed a closer bond with his uncle's husband, Uncle Matthew, that he did with his blood relation. The man's quiet nature made him a better companion for the grieving child and together they cultivated a love for the outdoors.

Theo learned how to garden and grew an apple tree from a seed just like his kindergarten class taught him, he grew little herbs on the windowsill and watched Uncle Evan throw them in food and drinks and felt like he contributed. He also liked seeing that he could keep something alive, even if plants weren't the same as people.

He had a green thumb, but also bloody knuckles. Not all of his time was spent growing herbs and participating in 4H club. Not everyone was tolerant of Theo's family and when people tried to take it out on him, Theo pushed back. Uncle Matthew didn't approve of fighting, but Uncle Evan did, and that was the start of lessons at the gym in self defense and for the first time since moving, Theo found something besides blood to share with Evan - boxing.

As all kids do, he grew up, but he never moved far away from his family, attending college only an hour away. He wasn't a phenomenal student, never was, but Theo knew they were proud of him and supported him anyway, through thick and thin. Evan used to say that Theo needed to get a fancy diploma and go on to be a millionaire so he could support Evan and Matt once they were addled old men, and Theo always laughed and said he would, even though he knew he'd never be rich.

What happened next would have been easier if he was. Matt was diagnosed with cancer during Theo's second year of college and bills quickly piled up. Theo eventually dropped out and threw himself fully into work to try helping, but helping with the finances didn't help Matt, who lost his battle and seemed to take part of Evan with him.

There wasn't any returning to college after that, just working and trying to look out for Evan, who was never the same. The jokes about taking care of him in his old age no longer seemed like jokes, for all that Evan was only in his sixties. That still seemed like it was too young for Evan to fall apart, at least in Theo's mind.

It wasn't the life Theo planned, and he knew it wasn't the one Uncle Matt wanted for him, but Theo made do as the years past, time adding up until college was a half forgotten memory. He worked a variety of odd jobs, bouncing around between things that didn't requite any qualifications until one of Evan's friends mentioned needing a new bartender soon, and promising to hire Theo if he got certified. It would cost, but the pay raise would make up for it in a month or two.

That's where he met Lucy, and it felt like love at first sight. She became a light for him, a joy as things with Evan became worse. Theo knew his hours were difficult, that he was often preoccupied and stressed because of his family, and Lucy always seemed to handle it with grace. She handled it with grace for a few years and by the time Evan grew worse, they were engaged. Their apartment was small, and Theo was filled with ideas of moving into Evan and Matthew's old house with her one day, renovating it and having a small family with her.

Then Evan passed away from health complications and Lucy admitted to cheating on him, claiming she hadn't wanted to weigh him down with the knowledge when he was dealing with Evan in the hospital, and then the funeral. In Theo's mind, it wasn't any better finding out his fiancee was leaving him for the man she'd been having an affair with while he was grieving, and the split ended up acrimonious.

With his family dead or gone, Theo's life felt empty and he sold everything tying him to his old life before packing up and crossing the continent once again to restart his life.

[atthecrossroadsoflifeanddeath]

Maybe this is obvious for other pagans who have lived in cities for their entire lives so I apologize in advance if some of what I'm about to say sounds dumb as rocks.

But it hit me lately - REALLY hit me this week, in more than just a detached intellectual way - that part of the reason I've found it increasingly difficult to spiritually connect the past couple of years is because I'm still entrenched in the conditioning that humans (and thus human-centric spaces like cities) are separate from nature, and that to be connected spiritually, I have to be in the wilderness.

I've reblogged a few posts recently talking about this problem in many witchcraft books and spaces, and how it's really rooted in old British colonial ideals and etc etc. And the thing is, intellectually speaking, I've always "believed" that humans are part of nature and that it's silly to think we're separate.

But yknow what the thing is??? I've never in my life, up until the past couple years, lived more than a 5 minute walk from wild forest, and up until 2016, I've never lived more than a 15 minute drive from the ocean. I grew up in Alaska. I woke up to moose having babies in my backyard outside my window, and bald eagles munching down salmon in the nearest river. I didn't have to go anywhere for wild nature. It was literally outside my front door. I could walk into my yard and forage wild rose, nettle, raspberry, birch syrup, pine needles, pineapple weed, and more without having to worry even once about pesticides. I could literally dance naked in my yard and no one would know.

Then as an adult, I lived in Maui for two years, which is similarly entrenched in wild nature. Lived in rural Australia for a bit, also entrenched in wild nature. Then I moved to Oregon, lived rurally for a year, then moved to a apartment that was right across the street from a forest park that's allowed to grow wild.

But a couple of years ago I moved to a part of the city where not only do I have to drive to find some wild nature, but that wild nature doesn't even really feel wild and private (in the ways I've experienced it before) because there's people walking past every 2 minutes.

Of course it was easy to fool myself into thinking I didn't have that colonialist conditioning about nature - up until the past couple years I wasn't put into a position of being far from the wildest, most non-human version of nature.

So there I was, crying to my therapist about feeling so disconnected from nature and my spirituality and feeling like that's part of why I've been struggling SO much with existential questions lately, and then it hit me: my spirituality, though it has been shaped by my life experiences and circumstances of having lived in the wildest nature possible, needs to evolve. My spiritual growth is blocked by my conditioning that I cannot be properly spiritually connected so long as I live in a city.

Which is patently, obviously, simply not true - because not only am I part of nature as a human being, but nature is still right in front of me. It's in my house: I've got Creatures in here (cats and fish) and plants and people and all the things I've decorated my nest with. It's right outside my door:

there's persistent wild weeds and an apple tree and drought resistant bushes and cherry trees and blueberries and roses along the fence, and birds clamoring at the bird feeders. There's dragonflies and bees and preying mantises and spiders. There's people living their lives, often participating fully with the rest of the natural world around them, living in symbiotic relationship: kids blowing dandelion seeds, retired people filling hummingbird feeders, punks throwing wildflower seed bombs along the bike path, my daughter demanding we pick up litter so the great blue heron she loves to see doesn't accidentally eat it.

This is the next step in my spiritual path, one I've been needing to make for a long time. It's time to break down that conditioning that is so entrenched in my white person psyche that I didn't even realize for a long time that it was still there despite my intellectual beliefs. I feel foolish even making this post. Like, how did it take me 17 years in my spiritual path to realize this was a problem for me?

Gods, help me know and fully appreciate and love my place in nature and the web of life, from right where I am. Help me see the wild magic present in me and all around me, right where I am. May I find peace and courage in the knowledge that I am part of nature, wherever I am and whatever I'm doing. Give me the strength and wisdom to participate fully in that truth. Thank you.

[residents-of-the-darkforest]

Dark Forest Resident: Applecreek 

Aliases / Nicknames: Bestie, Johnny Appleseed, Applejack 

Gender: intersex trans tom 

Sexuality: polysexual, biromantic 

Family: Petalnose (mother), Goldenshade (father), Mapleheart (sister), Stormberry, Icefeather (brothers) 

Other Relations: Sparkwhisker (mentor), Liondust, Kestrelwhisper, Cedarmoon (best friends/crushes) 

Clan: Treeclan 

Rank: warrior, loner 

Characteristics: kills to impress crushes, goofy, reckless, loves pulling off pranks, skilled at growing plants 

Number of Victims: 15 

Number of Murders: 5 

Murder Method: placing large amounts of apple seeds in fresh-kill 

Known Victims: Liondust, Kestrelwhisper, Cedarmoon, Sparrowthroat, Seedclaw (killed), Basiltail, Darkpetal, Feathertuft, Thornbreeze, Redbelly, Gorsepounce, Brindledusk, Crookedeye, Juniperstripe, Lizardleaf (poisoned) 

Victim Profile: best friends/crushes, senior warriors who his crushes disliked, other senior warriors (accidentally), elders (accidentally) 

Cause of Death: decapitated by falling tree branch 

Cautionary Tale: N/A

Story: 

Applecreek was a normal cat for most of his life. He was a skilled tracker with a keen knack for sniffing out plants. He had a fondness for the fruit he was named after in particular, and even figured out how to grow apple trees. He was a good son, a good brother, a good apprentice, and a devoted friend. Maybe a little too devoted of a friend.

Applecreek, Liondust, Kestrelwhisper, and Cedarmoon had been as thick as thieves from the ripe age of one moon old. They were almost never seen apart, and they only seemed to grow closer as they grew older. This was especially true for Applecreek, who eventually developed crushes on his three friends-- crushes that were incredibly obvious to every cat in all five Clans except for the actual objects of Applecreek's affection. 

He tried so hard to show them his true feelings. The idea of growing apple trees originally came about as an idea to impress them. Again and again, Applecreek tried to show how he felt, with almost no success.

These hapless attempts of trying to impress Liondust, Kestrelwhisper, and Cedarmoon often came at the expense of their Clanmates, who Applecreek would prank in hopes of seeing his friends laugh. Most of the time, it was brushed off, as the targeted Clanmate simply stared at Applecreek with pity and sympathy. 

But with how hard Applecreek tried, he was bound to go too far eventually.

Liondust, Kestrelwhisper, and Cedarmoon had been complaining about Sparrowthroat and Seedclaw, two older warriors, constantly interrupting all of their games. Naturally, Applecreek felt that the perfect solution to this was a good old prank. Maybe this would be the one that got his friends to notice him!

He knew apple seeds were quite bitter, so he tore down all of the fruit he had grown that season, tore out their seeds, and stuffed as many seeds as he could in as many pieces of fresh-kill as possible. Sparrowthroat and Seedclaw were bound to eat at least one, and the disgusted expressions on their faces as they tried to remove the taste of the seeds from their mouths would be priceless!

Applecreek went to sleep that night feeling excited about tomorrow. He woke up the next morning to the sound of multiple cats throwing up just outside of the warriors' den. Snickering, he stepped outside to see Sparrowthroat and Seedclaw's reactions... only to see that it wasn't them vomiting. 

It was Liondust, Kestrelwhisper, and Cedarmoon. Sparrowthroat and Seedclaw were instead lying in the middle of camp, vomit caking their mouths, their eyes glazed over, and their families sobbing over their lifeless corpses.

Horrified, Applecreek guided his friends into the medicine den. But it was too late. Liondust, Kestrelwhisper, and Cedarmoon soon began having violent seizures, and in mere minute-long intervals, they passed away one by one.

Applecreek had only just let out his caterwaul of pure grief when unsheathed claws cuffed his shoulder. He whirled around to see the deputy--Sparrowthroat-- and Seedclaw's sister, Hawkbush, her teeth bared and her face tearstained. She screamed that Applecreek was a murderer, that she should kill him right there and then.

The only reason why Hawkbush didn't kill Applecreek right then and there was the timely intervention of the leader, Wheatstar. Wheatstar did, however, sadly inform Applecreek that he would have to be exiled. He knew that Applecreek hadn't meant any real harm, but the harm he had done would almost certainly bring doom to nearly half of the Clan. 

When Applecreek demanded to know what Wheatstar meant by that, the leader flicked his tail outside of the medicine den. Poking his head out, Applecreek saw almost all of the senior warriors and even a few of the elders staggering around shakily, vomiting, clutching their heads in pain, panting, and overall suffering... suffering because of him.

Applecreek didn't need to be told twice. He ran out of camp and never looked back. He spent the rest of his life a wandering loner. Other loners, rogues, and kittypets spoke in hushed whispers of the cat they called Johnny Appleseed, of how he did his best to spread seeds throughout the land, but strangely avoided apples and apple trees.

More than that, they spoke of the way he always seemed to be crying, how he always seemed to be muttering the names "Liondust, Kestrelwhisper, Cedarmoon" under his breath over and over, and how, when threatened, he always just stood there, as if waiting for them to give him what he deserved. 

He did this even as the apple branch splintered off of the tree, falling down and cleaving right through his neck.

Additional Information:

--Submission by @starfalcon555​

--As you can tell by the last paragraph, this guy is loosely based on the folklore tale of Johnny Appleseed!

--The other cats that fell victim to apple seed-induced cyanide poisoning were cured by the combined efforts of all of the medicine cats, hence why Applecreek only has five murders under his belt.

--I feel like this guy would be besties with Fleathistle and Fadingstar for obvious reasons, lol

--With the deaths of Sparrowthroat and Seedclaw, Hawkbush is the only surviving kit of Snailstar. Snailstar and their family just keep going through it, huh?

--Hawkbush does eventually become Hawkstar, though! So that's a plus :D

[casspurrjoybell-25]

The Healer of Shakkara - Book One

*Warning Adult Content*

Chapter 17 - The Pinedark Forest - Part 1

Galen felt at home in the forests around Dern.

The woods were his sanctuary and he had seldom come upon a strange or unknown creature there.

The Wild Green Forest was different.

For the first few days, the trees and plants, birds, insects and fungi were familiar and the travelers had a pleasant time, walking well-worn paths beneath stately trees.

There were many little streams, with water clear and sweet... wild onion, watercress, raspberry and crab-apple clustered the banks and made fine additions to their fare.

They slept soundly on carpets of soft, sweet-scented moss or in open meadows beneath bright stars, where the grass was long and dry.

Animals were abundant, too.

Galen glimpsed many fowls, squirrels and rabbits, deer with little fawns and once... a magnificent stag with a many-branching crown.

Then, gradually, the forest grew wilder and more strange.

The trees became larger and older, their trunks clothed in emerald mosses and beards of lichen hanging from their boughs.

Ferns carpeted the ground and a rich, loamy scent rose from the ground underfoot.

In places, the trees were spaced far apart, like the pillars of a great hall... in others, their tangled limbs formed a barricade that made travel slow and difficult.

Sevhalim explained that not every region of the Wild Green was the same.

Some were relatively tame... others were impenetrable wilderness.

Likewise, some were safe and others rife with peril.

The path he had chosen for them crossed... by necessity... through a variety of each.

As they walked, the party exchanged tales.

With hunters and boars left far behind, the weather fair and their surroundings scenic, spirits lifted and tentative friendships formed.

Triss and Rea took archery practice together every morning, challenging one another to smaller and more distant targets, while Iksthanis showed Behn how to find wild herbs and how to identify which mushrooms were safe to eat.

Meanwhile, Sevhalim and Zenír taught Galen how to meditate.

"Mental focus is the foundation of magic," Zenír said.

"It is the bedrock on which all greater work is built," his voice was soft and soothing and Galen found him easy to listen to.

For the first few days, the instruction was simple... focus on something and stay focused.

Zenír focused on a sound... a single tone he hummed beneath his breath... while Galen followed Sev's lead and chose a mental image.

He envisioned a little star of light, which increased and decreased in brightness with his breath.

It was enjoyable, once he found his center and exhilarating once he felt the result... the more he practiced... the more he sensed the power lying dormant and untapped within his core.

He sensed the ambient energies surrounding him too... the vast, ancient power, quiet and deep... a complex web of life.

Opening himself to it, he called forth his own magic just a little and released it like an offering to the great trees.

It escaped him like tiny effervescent bubbles, rising from his heart and floating free from his uplifted palms.

A soft gasp broke his concentration and he opened his eyes to find Zenír staring... which was odd, as the man was blind.

"I can see it," Zenír breathed, eyes wide as he reached towards Galen.

"The magic."

Galen realized he could see it, too.

All about him, tiny dots of emerald light, like dust in a sunbeam, sparkled in the air.

He brushed his hand through them but with his concentration broken, they vanished like embers on a breeze.

"Jewel of Sakkara," Sev murmured and... to Galen's slight discomfort... pressed his hands together and bowed his head.

"I don't know what that is," Galen said, grimacing.

"But... I'm not it."

Sev held his gaze, his princely features set with strange sincerity.

"You are in my eyes, P'Yrha," he murmured.

Unaccountably, Galen flushed.

Hoping to brush off the awkwardness, he rose.

"I think I'll see if Obi needs help with the firewood," he said.

As he walked away, Zenír spoke in a soft tone.

"Be careful, Sev. Best not to get attached."

It was clear he meant not to be overheard and Galen wondered if perhaps the prolonged sessions of focus had sharpened his hearing a little.

"Don't worry, Zen," Sev answered in an equally low voice.

"I know my duty well enough. You need not remind me of it."

"It is for you I worry, Sev," Zenír answered.

"Your duty will mind itself... I imagine."

Sev sighed.

"That is what I fear."

They said no more but Galen pondered what he'd heard.

Perhaps when the opportunity arose, he would ask Sev exactly what his duty entailed.

********

On the sixth day, the forest changed once more and became less pleasant.

Little by little, there were fewer oak and alder, poplar and fir and more of a certain, densely growing pine.

The trunks had rough, grey bark and the needle-like leaves were short, sharp and bristly.

In places, the trees grew so close together it was difficult to find a way through and they had no choice but to travel some distance in search of a clear path.

Finally, on the opposite side of a small clearing, they came upon a wall of such pines, beyond which no other species grew.

"What unpleasant trees," Behn remarked grumpily, eyeing the barrier with distaste.

"Indeed," Sev agreed, gesturing at the wall of narrow trunks.

"This is the edge of the Pinedark, as the region is called. The young trees choke out their competition. Gradually, the weaker ones die off, so the older the forest, the more spread out they'll be but only of one kind and still close enough to make a perpetual twilight beneath their boughs. I'm afraid this is the end of our pleasant woodland wanderings, for now."

Unhappily, the group bade farewell to the sunlit meadow and followed Sev into the gloom beneath the pines.

Soon, the branches overhead grew so thickly the travelers caught only occasional glimpses of the sky and then even those disappeared.

With no way to judge the time of day, only a gradual darkening told them night would soon descend.

They camped in a level place but no one slept well.

The thick layers of pine-needles carpeting the ground might have made good bedding, if they were not sharp enough to stab through cloth.

After a prickly night, they rose and broke camp and carried on.

The deeper they went into the pines, the less Galen liked the place.

Little grew there apart from the trees and the sparse bracken beneath.

Everything was grey or brown and eerily still.

The few birds they heard had strange, forlorn calls and the beasts they glimpsed were oddly dark and blended with the gloom.

Once, Galen spotted a deer with a sable coat and even the squirrels were grey or black.

For a while, they did their best to keep the oppressive quiet at bay with laughter and song and with tales of past adventures but soon, even the most talkative of them fell silent.

By the third day, they were all on edge and spoke in whispers and jumped at the snap of twigs underfoot.

It didn't help that the trees seemed almost to have a language of their own and chattered among themselves in creaky voices, rubbing their branches together in strange conspiracy.

"It's just the wind," Sev assured them when a particularly loud outburst of creaking swept overhead, as if the trees were passing a secret along.

"What wind?" Behn asked, swishing his hand through the stagnant air, wide-eyed and spooked.

"There's plenty of wind above the trees," Sev said.

"They're quite tall. We can't feel it down here, so it seems as if they're moving on their own."

Reassured by this explanation, they paid less heed to the creaking. The howling and the eyes were another matter.

That night, Galen woke from an uneasy sleep.

All was still beneath the trees and pitch-black beyond the ring of firelight, as usual.

Behn snored softly on his left and Triss lay curled on her side to his right.

Sev sat nearby, his back resting against the trunk of a tree, with his eyes shut.

Galen couldn't tell if he was awake or not.

A few paces away, at the edge of the light, Iksthanis stood on watch, his broad-shouldered shape blending with the gloom.

Galen shifted, trying to find a more comfortable position and willed himself back to sleep.

The one good thing about the Pinedark, so far, was that the ground was relatively flat.

That was changing and the coming day promised to be a hard one, filled with grueling climbs and steep descents.

[livredebelle]

Seven.

LUCKILY FOR ME, JOHNNY wasn't in today--flu or something--so it was a relaxing start to the day at the coffee shop. I leisurely watered the potted plants by the window, fluffed the cushions, swept the floor and made a latte for myself. I was enjoying a pretty chill Saturday afternoon when the entrance door opened with a flourish and I saw who had come to visit.

I couldn't help but grimace.

"Aw, come on now. Is this the welcome I deserve?" It was Seth, my distant cousin. Whenever he came to find me, it was nothing but trouble--he was my mother's personal messenger and dog, and it was awfully annoying having to deal with him every time he came to pass a message. 

"Sorry. I don't like dogs, especially mongrels like yourself." 

He chuckled. "That never gets old. Anyway, Auntie wanted me to tell you to--"

"To come home, I know. I got her text message."

"Then, did you see the one she sent after that? The one, you know, about killing herself?" Seth inquired with somewhat judgmental eyes. The bastard. 

In fact, I had. It was in the middle of the night--or rather, day--when I was halfway between sleep and clarity, and my mother sent me a threatening message: If you don't come home soon, I'm going to kill myself. There is no point living as the mother of a child who doesn't love her. It's heartbreaking. I'm heartbroken! Twenty minutes or so later, she sent a follow-up when I hadn't had the courtesy to deliver a response: I'm really going to do it. It'll all be over soon. Goodbye. 

It was haunting, sure, but not exactly new; Mother was a fan of the theatrics, and she had always had this dramatic flair inside her that had been, in the past, a potential skill that would enable her to study drama in order to become an actress. Turns out, though, she wasn't that talented, and of course you know the rest. It might have been heartless; nevertheless, I simply said, "I did. It was funny."

"Excuse me? Funny? How so?"

"Because she isn't really going to do it. She's never actually going to do it, but she'll make you think she might, because that gives her the advantage she wants over everyone. Mother's a master manipulator, Seth, I hope you are aware. Well, it doesn't seem like it, since you're still obeying her orders."

"Auntie's the head of the household, Irina. Without her you won't be able to do anything. Look at how you're living now--you're dirt broke, you're living in a tiny ass studio apartment, and you have no friends here..."

"You know Mother's broke too, right? Not too long ago she was ringing me up for money."

"Recently, she started dating this guy and I think they really hit it off--"

"OH. She's dating again. Or--wait--is she married? Again? Isn't this her third time? Jesus, I--" I sucked in a deep breath. It was a shocker, to be sure. I didn't think she was that stupid. "Please tell me."

"They're just dating for now, but it looks like it could potentially be serious." Seth's eyes narrowed. "Besides, why do you, of all people, care whether she gets married for a third time or not?"

"Oh, I don't. Believe me. I just have this bet against myself. A part of me thinks she'll never marry again, because she's been burnt so badly twice before and surely she's lost all hope. Another part thinks she's an idiot who will never learn her lesson, and keep burning herself out until she disappears, like a candle flame..." I snorted. "I think I found my answer." 

Seth stepped close to the counter, and I warned, "Don't come any closer. Employees only beyond this point."

He stepped back, then ran his hand through his hair. Obviously, he was frustrated. His mud-brown hair was starting to get long, and some of it was going into his eyes. I tried my best to hide my disgust. He was so effeminate with his long hair and the way he spoke. He was a sly little fox, and I wouldn't be fooled like everyone else by his flowery words; he was just another manipulator to me. Figures, as the saying goes, the apple does not fall far from the tree, and some genes can't be erased, I guess--wickedness apparently runs in my family. "Anyway... come home soon, even if it's just to visit. I bet Rosalie would be happy to see you. She's been asking about you, you know, and it breaks my heart because it's not like I have permission to give her your number. That's another thing--are you going to avoid your sister forever? Weren't you two close before?" 

"Don't talk to me about Rose." This time, I couldn't hide the rage he had ignited; how dare he talk about Rose as if he was concerned about her, after what he had done to her...

Rosalie had been pretty but frail ever since she was a child, and as sisters, we couldn't be more polar opposites. In the past, Seth had a thing for her, which made me want to barf--he was our second cousin, but still family, and it physically sickened me to recall how he used to court her. Actually, did he still court her...? I wasn't too sure, but wouldn't be surprised if he was. She was girly, graceful, and kind--everything a guy wanted in a girl and everything I was not. In contrast to her, I was always bitter and angry even as a child; growing up, I caused a lot of adults in my family grief because I had a sharp tongue, and wouldn't hold back if I felt I was being challenged. Once, Mother slapped me across the face in pure anger over a fight. Not losing my cool, I had calmly slapped her back. I still remembered the shock in her eyes at the time. How could a child slap her own parent? It was unforgivable, and I knew it. 

Rose was my half-sister; she was the offspring of Mother's second marriage, and was beautiful and thin, with luscious long golden curls. She, like Mother, was a dancer and a talented ballerina. There was a part of me that envied her, not because she was pretty and closer to Mother, but because she had a natural gift. She was obviously good at dancing, and I was a good-for-nothing. That was why nothing ever went my way. Regardless, Rose was a good sister who cared for me, I knew, but somehow that made things harder. How was I supposed to tell her what was wrong with me when everything was? She was too pure; she wouldn't understand... So I had chosen the easier route, which was to run away from the bullshit. Since I had moved out, I had cut off contact with almost everyone in my family. The only person who had my cell phone number was Seth, and that was only because he had had a classmate who knew me from a previous part-time job, and had obtained it that way. I couldn't change my number even if I wanted to because it was too expensive to do so, so I was stuck with him forever having that leverage. Of course, he was blocked as a contact, but still.

I think Rose just wanted to connect with me because she didn't know me. Surely, if she did, she would think I was insane...

True, at one point we may have been close. I'm not so sure--maybe when we were really little, like in elementary school. Otherwise, I don't remember ever having a decent conversation with her. All I remember is that I distanced myself from her on purpose, hated her for a while, and then grew indifferent as I realized we lived in worlds too apart from each other to bridge the gap. 

I felt bad, but changed the subject. "I need to get back to work. If you're just going to babble some more, then feel free to do so, but don't expect me to listen." And with that, I turned heel and started cleaning the espresso machine. Jeez, an afternoon shift like this would be super slow. I wished the place was full with customers, so Seth could leave me the hell alone. 

True to form, by 7 PM at the end of my shift, Seth was still at the shop, waiting for me while casually drinking his fifth espresso. The guy was a lunatic. Wasn't this going too far for my mom? God forbid, was he in love with her too? Sounds like something a freak like him would do.

When I saw Megumi head in for the night shift, I knew it was over. Groaning, I threw my apron into the locker as she and I changed, in and out of our uniforms, respectively.

"Jesus, what happened? You sound so depressed, I might blow my brains out." 

After assuring her it was nothing, I started heading out of the locker rooms to meet the inevitable when a voice stopped me. 

"Excuse me, miss. May I order a flat white, please?" 

I was a bit taken aback by how familiar the voice sounded. Sure enough, it was the guy I had met on my graduation day, when I had gone back to retrieve my diploma. His smile was still gentle. I glanced back towards the locker rooms--Megumi was probably still getting ready--so I shrugged and decided to ring up his order. "Sure. And your name, mister...?"

"Now you ask for my name, Miss Irina." 

[radiantsouth]

the face of a mother

helen pevensie, as edmund recalled her, was what a mother ought to be. it was difficult enough with four unruly children who fought constantly; even more so when their father had been drafted. of course peter and susan tried to do their part, but there were some things an adult could have borne better than a child, which was what peter and susan were.

she seemed to have endless patience for a disagreeable brat such as edmund (for he could now look back on himself and shudder to realize how terrible he had been). edmund, angry at the world, would refuse her affection; shuffle to do his chores; answer back even if unwarranted. peter had no patience for him—that was all fine, he thought, he didn’t need peter anyway—but their mother had far too much. and so he kept pushing and pushing, testing to see if her endless love had limits.

he had no need. edmund pushed back only because he knew that no matter what he said or did, his mother would stand by him, love him only like she would. he regretted it, almost, when the four of them piled onto the train away from finchley and towards uncertainty. if his mother was lost to the raids, no one would ever love him like that again.

⸻⸻⸻

shivering and cold, edmund hugged himself to preserve whatever warmth was left of him. he was alone in the cell now; the faun had been taken away, and he shuddered even more, thinking of the statues in the courtyard that he now realized weren’t statues at all.

the cold lifted the fog in his head, but it was the witch’s actions that dissipated it completely. there was no throne for him here—only a prison cell, and if the witch had her way, his siblings would join him, too.

he half-wished that they would; then at least he wouldn’t be alone. he missed lucy’s easy smile, and susan’s practical advice. even a lecture from peter sounded welcome now. how foolish he was to think that the white witch could ever replace them, and to realize that the witch’s affection had to be bought with favors when he had already been given love unconditionally.

how foolish to think that she could be his mother instead—that being a prince would be better than being edmund pevensie.

⸻⸻⸻

five years on, and he still had nightmares about her. some days, he couldn’t even look mr. tumnus in the eye, even though he had long been forgiven. it was worse during the first snow, when the frost would bite at his skin and chill his chambers in cair paravel. sometimes, he wouldn’t light a fire, and he would wake up in a cold sweat even if his room was freezing.

often it was peter who came. it still scares peter, edmund thinks, in a way the girls don't understand. he was the one to see edmund fall to the witch’s blade, to ceaselessly fight through her troops but never get closer to where edmund lay dying on the field. he would stay with edmund through the night, a silent vigil until he would fall asleep again.

sometimes, it was lucy. she would step into his room with such a worried look on her face that edmund would rush to placate her instead. she would sit with him in the great bay window that overlooked the sea and distract him with stories—from her own adventures underneath the sea with the mermaids, or something as simple as how mrs. beaver helped her plant more apple trees in their orchard. edmund would sleep soundly after that, dreaming up adventures of his own.

peter and lucy offered simple, uncomplicated comfort. but this was not a wound that would close on its own; it had to be dissected, torn apart to discern its aetiology and thus healed. it did not help that in matters like these—of his own feelings and emotions—he was often reticent.

susan, for all her gentleness, was not afraid to poke and prod at his wound. out of all of them, she understood what he needed most. they've talked about it at length, often in the winter months, often until morning. susan never blamed him, not once.

“you were a child, ed. and we... we didn't make you feel like you mattered,” susan had said in the first winter of their reign. “so you sought that feeling somewhere else.”

“still,” edmund said morosely. “to have done that to all of you...”

susan clasped his hand and smiled. “we all know better now. and you don’t feel that way anymore, i hope?”

“how could i?” edmund had answered.

he was still small enough to fit into her arms then. he stood taller than her now, but she wasn’t any lesser for it. they had grown, both in mind and body, yet she was still the same presence he sought year after year. she was easy conversation, possessing wisdom that evaded even the just king.

“do you remember if we had a mum?” edmund asked presently, watching the snowflakes fall outside his window.

“all people have mums, edmund,” susan said practically.

edmund rolled his eyes. “i know that. but our mum. do you remember her?”

“only very little,” susan admitted. “that she had our nose, and your eyes. and that she loved us all very much.”

“i don't even remember what she looked like.” edmund thought and thought, and the only face he could conjure was susan’s. the blue eyes would be wrong, not deep brown like his, but it seemed right to him.

susan turned to him curiously. “do you miss her?”

edmund shrugged. “i can't miss something i don't know. do you?”

“sometimes,” susan responded with a slight smile.

abruptly edmund felt sorry for her. he and lucy, and even peter, had someone like susan who treated them with the utmost care, to comfort them in the winters of their lives. they loved her as much as she loved them, but not in the same way. not like a mother would.

“thank you,” edmund said.

“for what?”

“just... for being susan.”

“oh, darling ed,” susan laughed. “then i hope i never change.”