#i come from a really rural area mind

[kiss-inthekitchen]

pairing: spencer reid x reader

set sometime in early s2; you get stuck sharing a room with your favorite boy genius who absolutely cannot know that you have feelings for him. and also, there’s only one bed. fluff, f!reader (i think there's only two usages of gender markers)

word count: 4.7k

notes: this is a rework of a very old fic i used to have up on ao3. i'm thinking i'll do more of these, i've got a few spencer fics in the vault and it was fun to rework this and see how my style has changed :)

You shivered against the cold desert air. Twirling a keyring around your finger, you headed for the door marked 3. You were exhausted from the day and so, so ready to collapse into bed as soon as you got inside your room. 

You turned the key in the lock while Spencer waited behind you. It was late, and you and the team had pulled into a motel for the night, having been dragged out to a tiny rural town by the unsub after days of tracking him through surrounding areas. He’d been apprehended, finally, and handed over to local police around midnight. You all had decided it best to spend the night before driving back into town in the morning for take off. 

So here you were, at one of those single story motels that still used actual keys instead of key cards. Given the time of night, you knew vacancies would be scarce, so you’d already expected to have to double up on rooms. Gideon had stayed behind at Quantico, leaving Hotch and Morgan in one room and JJ and Prentiss in another, with you and Spencer sharing the last room. You’d hung back while JJ got everything figured out with the concierge (who was just a bored looking kid posted at the desk), and then she’d passed you your key with its little keyring attachment listing the room number and you all bade each other goodnight.

You’d been on the team nearly a year already, but you were still the rookie compared to everyone else. Even Spence had two years on you. But seeing as you two were the youngest, and the least inclined toward the more physical parts of your job– the chasing, tackling, firing your weapon parts– you were paired off with him more often than not. 

You weren’t complaining. You’d come to know Spencer pretty well, and you didn’t feel much apprehension at the thought of sharing a room with him for one night. 

That is, until you opened the door. 

“Oh,” you said involuntarily.  

"There's only one bed,” Spencer said. 

“Sure looks that way.” 

"At least it's a queen?" 

There was a brief pause before you both started speaking at the same time. 

"Maybe we can go back to the concierge–" Spencer began. 

"I mean, I guess I don't really–" 

"–although, JJ did say we got the last–" 

"–mind as long as you–" 

You cut yourself off this time. It’s not like there was another good option, unless one of you wanted to sleep in the car. "This is fine?" it came out as a question rather than a statement. 

"I think so? I wouldn't want to– to make you uncomfortable or anything."

"This is fine," you repeated, more sure of yourself this time. “And you don’t make me uncomfortable.”  

It was only kind of a lie. You trusted Spencer with your life, of course. But he also made you nervous. He was sweet, kind, always seeming genuinely interested in anything you had to say. And of course, anyone could see that he was attractive. You were developing feelings for him, and in a job where your coworkers and your crush himself were all adept at reading people, it really wasn’t a good position for you to be in. You just hoped Spencer was as oblivious with women as Derek made him out to be. 

"We should get out of the doorway," Spencer suggested, and you realized you'd been standing in the threshold this whole time.

"Right."

The two of you walked in, Spencer closing and locking the door behind you. It was a modest room in a tiny town; your standard ugly-patterned, faded bedspread draped over the queen bed in the center, a window looking out into the parking lot, and a dresser that didn’t even have a TV on top of it. You headed straight for the bed, sitting on the edge and removing your shoes while Spencer stood by with his hands in his pockets.

"You know, if it's a problem I can sleep on the cou– uh, the chair," Spencer offered, looking back mid-sentence and realizing that the only additional furniture this motel offered was one rigid looking armchair by the window. 

"No, you're not doing that."

"What?" he asked, taken aback by the quickness of your response.

"You're not sleeping in that chair. It looks horribly uncomfortable and I’m sure it’s never been cleaned, and I know how you’d feel about that.” 

Spencer grimaced, not having thought about that particular detail. “Yeah, but, I mean… I’d do it for you.” 

God, why did he have to say stuff like that? Like you were something special. And why now, when you were stuck in the same room with him until morning? It probably didn’t even mean the same thing to him as it meant to you. He was one of the most caring people you’d ever met. He’d probably say that to any one of you on the team. 

Or maybe sleeping in a chair meant nothing to him at all. Maybe he actually didn’t want to share the bed with you and that’s why he was trying so hard to avoid it. 

Ugh. You just wanted this day to be over. It was late, the case had been a week long, and now you were probably in for a fun night of overthinking and second guessing when you’d been expecting silence and easy, dreamless sleep. 

Okay, maybe that last part was never really an option, but still. 

“Look,” you sighed, “I know this isn't an ideal situation but there's a perfectly good bed here, so let’s just share it. If you’re okay with that. It's just one night and tomorrow we'll be back home and nobody has to know about it."

You had to fight from squeezing your eyes shut in regret. You wished that had come out differently. You chanced a look at Spencer, realizing that you’d been staring down at the faded carpet pattern while you spoke. 

The look on his face was one you hadn’t seen before, and you almost couldn't place it. He seemed sort of disappointed. Disappointed that he had to share a bed with you? Or that you'd made it sound like you didn't want to share a bed with him? Nope, you could not go down that road tonight. You shook your head once as if it would clear the thoughts from your tired mind. 

“I’m okay with that," he said, casually enough that you could almost convince yourself that you’d just imagined the look on his face before. "So, do you want the shower first, or...?" Spencer asked.

"No, I can wait, you go ahead," you said. You desperately needed the moment to yourself anyway.  

You started rifling through your bag for pajamas, toiletries, and your charger as an excuse to look busy while Spencer made his way into the bathroom with his things. As soon as the door closed behind him, you flopped back on the bed, staring up at the ceiling as if it might hold all the answers. 

Spencer couldn't know about your feelings. For one thing, you were pretty sure there was a rule against dating your colleagues in the BAU. If not, there probably should be. You were such a close knit team, and if anything went wrong… you couldn’t imagine how difficult that would be. But then, the evil and uncooperative part of you also couldn’t help but think that things might go right. 

From the beginning of your time at the BAU, you’d been drawn to Spencer. It just kind of made sense. You’d gotten through school at an accelerated pace– though not as quickly as him, the man was on another fucking level when it came to academics– and you were one of the only people who found his fact dropping actually interesting, often asking him follow up questions. He’d looked adorably shocked the first few times you’d done that. 

He listened intently to your passionate rants about your favorite films and tv shows, even though he hadn’t seen any of them. When the two of you had discovered a shared interest in mythology and folklore, Hotch nearly had to separate you so you would actually get some work done. It was like you were a kid in school again, and you might’ve been embarrassed if you didn’t find it so funny, if you weren’t so giddy at the idea of a friendship that could make you feel like a kid again. 

Spencer understood you in a way that other people didn’t, laughing at your jokes even when they didn’t land for anybody else. When people interrupted or spoke over you, he always paid attention, and in situations where you were trying to add details to the profile he’d bring the conversation back around to you. 

Throughout your life you’d learned– through painstaking trial and error– to fit in pretty well in most any group you found yourself in, but you’d always considered yourself to be a little weird. A little too different. But when you were with Spencer, you felt like you didn’t have to try so hard. You could both be a little different, together. 

Spencer opened the bathroom door then, startling you. You’d been so lost in thought you hadn’t even noticed the water turn off. You looked over to see him wearing a loose white t-shirt and pajama pants, his hair still damp. And now you knew what Spencer looked like fresh out of a shower. And of course it was endearing as hell. 

“If that’s how you’re planning to sleep,” Spencer began, referencing how you were laid out in the dead center of the bed, your arms fully outstretched and hands hanging off the mattress, “then I think we might have a slight problem after all.”  

You walked out of the bathroom a short while later, dressed in your usual sleepwear of shorts and an oversized shirt. You’d put your hair up in a bun to protect it while you showered, and now it hung loose around your shoulders. You simultaneously wished your outfit was cuter and uglier; knowing your giant t-shirt wasn’t flattering your figure while also feeling like you had too much skin exposed. Not that it mattered. You were just going to get some sleep and then wake up in the morning and head home. Everything would be back to normal. 

Spencer’s in bed already. He’d turned off the big light while you were showering, the lamps on either side of the bed casting him in a softer, warmer glow. He looked up from his book to find you standing there, and the soft, familiar look in his big brown eyes had you rooted to the spot. 

“Hey,” he said softly, patting the space next to him in invitation. 

You conceded, finding your legs again and sliding into bed beside him. “Hey.” 

He fidgeted with the pages of his book, ultimately shutting it closed on his index finger to mark the page. “So, uh, are we okay?” 

“Yeah, of course,” you answered genuinely, feeling bad that your internal struggle had manifested in a way that worried him. 

“Okay, cool,” he said. He paused long enough to let you explain if you wanted to, another invitation. You knew he wouldn’t push it if you didn’t offer something up. You wanted to give him an explanation, but you couldn’t bring yourself to. 

“Sorry,” you managed. 

“For what?” 

“I don’t know… acting weird, I guess. It’s just been a long day.” 

“Oh, well, you don’t need to be sorry about that. You’re always weird.” 

Your mouth dropped open as you looked at him. “Look who’s fucking talking,” you scoffed. Some of the tension dropped from your shoulders, glad he hadn’t questioned you further. 

“Language, please,” he held up a hand to stop you. “I’m delicate.” 

“Wha–?” you let out a surprised little laugh. “You’re an idiot!” 

“Yeah okay, tell that to my I–.” 

“Oh, my IQ of 187,” you finished for him, rolling your eyes. Even that was full of endearment. “God, you are so annoying.” 

“Hm. Y’know, this might be a long night for you. I’d hate to keep you up with my annoyingness.” 

“I feel like you could’ve come up with a better word than annoyingness, Mr. 187,” you tilted your head where it rested against the headboard, looking up at him. 

“Oh, she’s being a smartass now!” he split into a surprised grin, and you could swear your heart skipped a beat. 

“You just said ass.” 

“Wow. How quickly you’ve corrupted me.” 

“Right, of course. It’s my fault.” 

“I knew you’d agree.” 

“Shut the fuck up,” you laughed. 

Things felt a little bit more normal after that, joking around with Spencer like you normally did made the rest of the night feel less daunting. 

Shortly after that, the two of you agreed that you should get some sleep, each reaching over to turn out the light on your respective sides of the bed. 

You let yourself sink into your pillow, the exhaustion you had been feeling giving way to a hyper awareness of Reid’s body next to you. You were kept awake, completely overcome by the foot of space between you and Spencer; the consequences of crossing that space, the way it might feel, the curiosity over whether he was laying awake too, thinking the same thoughts as you. Even with that foot of space separating you, you could feel his body heat. You longed to move closer to him, to touch him, to let his warmth seep into you and lull you to sleep. 

But you didn’t, and you wouldn’t, because this was just an unfortunate booking mishap. It didn’t mean anything. Tomorrow it would be over, and you could more easily go back to hiding your feelings from everyone else and yourself. 

Eventually, exhaustion won out. 

You woke what could’ve been a few minutes or a few hours later, the sky still dark. You couldn’t tell what exactly had woken you up, only the sense that you’d moved, almost like you’d fallen. But fallen from what? 

You blinked in the dark, the street lamps in the parking lot providing enough residual light to keep the room from being pitch black. 

Reid was sitting up. He must’ve bolted upright, you thought. Had that been what moved you? Were you lying on him?! 

“Hey, you okay?” 

“Sorry. Just a nightmare,” he said as if it was nothing. “Sorry to wake you.” 

“What was it about?” you ignored his apologies, sitting up as well. 

“I don't really even remember,” he breathed, almost like it was funny. “Just having a physiological reaction to whatever it was, I guess.” 

You had nightmares too, of course. You all did. You hated remembering them, but you also hated the times when you woke up in the dark, dazed and inexplicably scared. Without thinking, you reached for his hand. 

He turned to look at you then. “I really didn't mean to wake you,” he reiterated. 

“I figured,” you smiled slightly. You noticed his breathing was just a bit too fast. You rubbed your thumb over the back of his hand, leaning over to rest your weight against his side, your head on his shoulder. His nervous system would regulate itself quicker this way. 

“You were on my pillow, by the way.” 

“What?” you ask, your head jerking back from him. 

“I totally called it. You rolled right into the center of the bed in your sleep. Total bed hog.” 

“Hey!” you protested, pulling your hand back from his in embarrassment. So you had been lying on top of him. Or at least really close to him. His hand chased after yours, finding you again. 

“That wasn’t me complaining about it.” 

“Oh,” was all you could think to say back. 

It was quiet for a minute. You let your head fall back onto Spencer’s shoulder, but your heart raced in your chest. 

“Can I ask you something?” he questioned, his tone becoming more serious. 

“Oh– of course,” you answered, your brow creasing. 

“What did you mean when you said ‘it’s not ideal’ and ‘nobody has to know about it’?” 

“Wh– I– Spencer, come on.” 

He didn’t give you an out this time. Just waited for an answer. 

“I don’t even really know,” you sighed.  

“I believe you’re being partially truthful about that.” 

“Don’t profile me.” 

“I’m not. I just know you.” 

You sighed. “You know, sometimes I hate that stupid memory of yours.” 

“I don’t need an eidetic memory to remember that. It was a weird thing to say, and it happened like four hours ago.” 

“You’re guesstimating. And it wasn’t that weird.” 

“Maybe not, but the way you said it was. And you’re avoiding my question.” 

You continued to avoid it, biting down on your bottom lip. 

“And you stuttered when I brought it up.” 

“I told you to stop profiling me.” 

This time, he just hummed in response. 

“And so what if I stuttered?” 

“Stuttering is usually more my thing. A nervousness thing.” 

Maybe this was actually your nightmare. Maybe you’d wake up soon and none of this would’ve been real, and you wouldn’t have had to explain to Spencer that the reason you’d had an attitude was because the situation tonight had made it harder to hide your feelings from him. Big feelings that became a lot harder to ignore when he was this close to you, still holding your hand, the mix of scents from his detergent and deodorant clouding your judgment. Of all the embarrassing scenarios that you could’ve imagined playing out tonight, this was very high up on the list. 

“I said ‘it’s not ideal’ because it’s not, just by definition. We were supposed to get a double room and we didn’t. Not ideal. And I said no one has to find out because I can already see Morgan having a field day with it and I know the exact expression that’ll be on his face–” 

“The eyebrows,” he nodded, lips pursed. 

“And then everyone else will get in on it and I just figured…” you sighed. “I don’t know. I didn’t want to deal with that.” 

“That all makes total sense.” 

“Good,” you breathed. Too relieved. 

“Now tell me the rest of it.” 

“God, Spencer–” you huffed out, frustrated. He knew you too well. 

You wanted to run. Maybe you could go sleep in the car after all. And then ignore Spencer for the rest of the day, and then the year, and your life, and– 

“Don’t make me say it,” you breathed. This had to be a dream. 

“But there is something to be said?” he questioned, his tone hushed, almost reverent. 

It was just vague enough. You could pretend it was nothing. 

“Yes.” 

You felt like you’d just blown your life up with one word. 

Spencer took a deep breath, your body cresting and falling with the movement of it. 

“You make me feel better about being myself,” he confessed.  

You shut your eyes. You had a constricting feeling in your throat suddenly, and the awful realization that you might cry. 

He spoke again, because you couldn’t. “I haven’t always felt good about it, you know? And then you joined the team, and, well– you changed a lot of things for me. And you’re beautiful, obviously, and I was scared to mess up what we have, because it’s special, I think–” 

“It is.” 

“–and then you started freaking out when you saw the bed,” he was smiling now, you could hear it, “and I thought, maybe it wouldn’t be so crazy… maybe I could make you feel that way too.” 

“You do. Of course you do. I feel like I can be my full self with you. I don’t know that I’ve ever felt like that before.” 

Spencer laughed, a little delirious giggle, and squeezed your hand in his. You’d managed to avoid crying, thankfully, and you grinned along with him, looking down at your joined hands as you squeezed him back. 

Things seemed to still for a beat, the two of you sitting with this moment and letting it stretch out. You still couldn’t really believe this was happening. You might have to tell Spencer to pinch you. 

“So what does that mean for us now?” you asked. 

“Well, for right now at least, I think it just means that we can go back to sleep without overthinking things into oblivion.” 

“I was not–”

“Okay, this time I am profiling you, and you’re lying,” he cut you off, his smile still evident.  

“Oh, this was such a mistake.”

He continued like you hadn’t spoken, laughing a little as he went. “I could practically hear it. It’s like, you know when a computer is trying to use too much processing power and the fan starts whirring really loud? Like that but just like right next to me, like tangible—“  

“Okay! Thank you so much, I actually totally got it, you can stop now.” 

He laughed, and your cheeks warmed. 

“For the record, I meant we could both stop overthinking.” Then he shifted a little, facing you a bit more. With the hand that wasn’t holding yours, he brushed a strand of hair from your face, a fake pout on his lips. “Sorry I make you nervous.” 

You cackled at that, if it was possible to cackle in hushed tones. “Oh, I bet you are. Besides, I know you like me now, so you’ve lost that card.” 

“Are you certain of that?” 

“Certain that you like me or certain that you can’t make me nervous?” 

“The latter. I do like you, if that was unclear.” 

Your heart sped up, contradicting you as you answered, “Then I’m certain you can’t make me nervous.” 

He titled your face up to his then, using his index finger underneath your chin to make you look at him. “You’re an awful liar.” 

You just shrugged, watching triumphantly as Spencer’s gaze fell to your lips. “It’s been working out pretty well for me so far.” 

“I guess it has,” he murmured, closing the distance between you and finally kissing you. 

After so many months of imagining (and berating yourself for imagining) what Spencer’s lips might feel like on yours, you weren’t disappointed. 

For once you didn’t have to think at all, the chemistry between you and him drowning out everything else. His hand fell to your waist, and yours moved to the curve of his jaw, pulling him closer as his mouth moved against yours. Your teeth grazed his bottom lip and he gasped, and your skin felt like it was lit up from the inside. 

You pulled away to breathe, and to process, and to try and stop your head from swimming. You were rewarded with the awestruck look in Spencer’s eyes as he opened them again. 

“Okay, was it just me, or–” 

“That was crazy,” you breathed.

“Crazy,” he agreed. 

“Spence?” 

“Yeah?” 

“I don’t think we’re getting back to sleep tonight.” Your eyes widened at the implication of saying those words at that time. “Not, like, in the sex way, though,” you hurried to correct yourself. “I need like, 4-5 business days to process things first, and I– well, I just meant, like– you know?” 

Spencer was nodding at you even as his eyebrows pulled together in a frown. “Can I still kiss you during those 4-5 business days?” 

“Oh, yeah,” you said, sounding breathless. 

“Cool,” he agreed. “You seem really nervous, by the way.” 

“Well, you kissed me.” 

“I did.”  

“How were you not nervous?” you breathed. 

“Oh, I was. Your reaction is making me feel a whole lot better about it though.” 

You scoffed half-heartedly. “I do so much for you.” 

“You do,” he replied earnestly, letting go of your hand to wrap his arm around your shoulders as he pressed a kiss to your forehead. “We could lie back down, if you want. Like we were before I so rudely woke you up.” 

“Yeah, I’m super mad about that,” you joked. “Anyway, I was asleep for that, so you’ll have to show me what I was doing.” 

He seemed all too pleased to do so. “Okay, so you were basically like,” he leaned back against the pillows, pulling you down with him, moving his hand to the side of your head to guide you to the place where his shoulder met his chest, “Like that, and then your arm was over here,” he picked up your arm and guided it around his waist. 

“Oh god, that’s so embarrassing,” you said, realizing that he must’ve been awake when you’d done it. 

“Yeah, I know. Really terrible time for me.” 

“I can imagine. I can scoot back over to my side of the bed, just say the word.” 

“Don’t you dare,” he said, squeezing you closer. 

You trailed your fingers up and down his waist, feeling more content than you had in ages. 

“I can’t believe you’d suggest that I would have sex with you right after confessing my feelings. Like, take me to dinner first at least.” 

“Oh my god,” you half-exclaimed, half-laughed. You felt your cheeks heat up again, grateful it was still too dark in the room to be noticeable. “You’re right, I’m so sorry. How’s next Friday?” 

“Hmm, I don’t know. My work schedule is kind of unpredictable. I’ll have to get back to you.” 

“You’re such an ass.” 

A few short hours later, you were back on the jet with the rest of the team. You were lying on the couch while Spencer sat in a seat one row up and across from you, both to avoid suspicion and so you could try to catch up on sleep. He sat facing away from you, but with the angle you were at you could still see one side of his face if you tilted your head up. 

You were just beginning to fade when your phone buzzed next to you. 

Spencer: I have to tell you something, coworker to coworker. 

You looked up to see him blank faced, looking down at the book in his right hand, holding his phone in the left. 

You text back: okay? 

Spencer: My crush asked me out last night. 

You’re exceptionally glad no one was sitting close enough to see you. Spencer had caught you off guard, and you felt an infatuated grin spreading across your face. 

You: what did u say? 

Spencer: Wanted to get your opinion first. 

You: i think u should say yes, obviously. 

Spencer: Idk, I’m kinda nervous. I think she’s trying to jump me on the first date.

You just barely managed to refrain from laughing out loud. You looked up at Spencer again, and he’s looking at his phone as if it contained nothing more than a weather report. You’re astounded. 

You: one could argue that technically you’ve already slept together, so there’s less to be nervous abt

You saw his eyebrows raise just slightly. Success. 

Spencer: You’re trouble, you know that? See you Friday night

You: i promise i won’t try to jump you 

Spencer: Oh

Spencer: I fear I may have shot myself in the foot here

You: i wouldn’t worry about it too much

Spencer: That’s rich coming from you 

You rolled your eyes even though he couldn't see you. 

You: whatever. wear something sexy ;) 

You heard him blow air out of his nose, an almost laugh. 

“Something funny?” you heard Derek ask. 

Shit. 

“This book contains a historical inaccuracy that was proven incorrect eight years before its publishing date,” Spencer replied without missing a beat. 

Unbelievable.

You: you’re unhinged :*

Spencer: Go to sleep already, would you? 

You: coworker to coworker? my crush keeps interrupting my beauty sleep 

Spencer: He’s probably worried about the worldwide implications of you becoming any more beautiful 

You: i guess that’s why the universe gave you insomnia :( too pretty 

Spencer: Stop flirting with me

You: bc you’re too delicate?? 

Spencer: Yes 

You snapped your phone shut, feeling dazed. You watched the clouds go by in the window across from you, and you couldn’t help letting your gaze slide over to Spencer. He’d put his phone down as well, concentrating on his book. Or pretending to concentrate. He was turning the pages much too slowly for his actual pace. 

You: you have got to do a better job of fake reading than that

You heard a page turn. 

You looked up again to see the ghost of a smile threatening the corner of his mouth. 

This was going to be fun. And also, you were so screwed. 

[bovineblogger]

Just wanted to pitch my two cents in response to the previous anon! Hi friend, I know for a lot of us who get our food shrink wrapped and packaged at the grocery store it’s mind boggling to even imagine there’s a healthy way of animal husbandry.

I grew up in The Big City™️ but was raised by my grandparents. They grew up farming (just crops, their families were too poor to own livestock or purchase meat/milk/eggs) and taught me to have an incredible respect for where food comes from. We grew our own crops in the tiny backyard, composted, and did aquaculture even before I knew what it was. We bought our smaller meat from the local butcher minimally processed. You had to debone and process the whole chicken, fish, rabbit, frogs, etc. Grandpa traded his veggies for different fruits with the other oldies. Grandma made her own wine and yogurt. And I’ve worked and volunteered at animal shelters and wildlife rescue/rehab centers growing up. I still compost nearly all of my food waste. Even then, I didn’t truly understand the extent to which a properly cared for animal farm could be healthy and ethical.

Until I met one of my previous partners that is. They grew up in an incredibly rural area on a family farm that had animals, including a herd of cows for meat. They hunted, but always to protect the livestock and made use of the animals they killed/sold them to others in town who would. It seemed so counterintuitive to my sensibilities and raised my hackles at first. How could you say you love animals and do that? But I began asking questions…for hours and hours because it was nothing I’d been exposed to.

The way they and their family cared for/revered their animals seemed almost religious to me when I first encountered it. From the time they were kids, it was always the animals’ chores first. You woke up but fed and milked the cows before you made yourself breakfast. They made blankets for the animals and read to them. You gave the herd everything they needed and then some. If something in the barn needed fixing, that would happen first before new windows for the house. The animals had their own things and toys and treats. It was love! There were never cattle prods or whips or any of the machinery you associate with industrial farming. The animals would greet them happily every morning. They loved and trusted their people back enough to be naughty a way a pampered cat is. It really sunk in when I stood next to a cow for the first time — there’s nothing that would stop that animal from harming you, especially if you were a kid, unless it respected you and loved you back.

(They once told me the story of how some large predator like a bear or wolf tried to sneak into the pasture at night. The family woke up there next morning to a furry pancake that had been utterly stomped into the ground by the herd.)

A whole lifetime later, they can still remember the names, personalities, and stories of all the animals they raised. I would get bored and try to list off random names as a game to see if they ever had an animal called that, actually. But the thing that initially shocked (and stuck with me the most) was that when they’d take an older cow to the butcher, they would get packages of meat back labeled with that animal’s name. But it wasn’t ever scary or traumatizing for the kids. They always knew where food was from. Sometimes they were even there helping when that animal was born in the barn. What that did was give them an incredible sense of care, respect, and duty for those animals. When they had dinner that night, they would say grace and mean it in a way you only could if you viewed that animal as an equal family member. I was raised religious, but had never heard grace said like that, with that amount of genuine intent until I ate dinner with them. It used to be just something I did, just going through the motions.

That being said, yes it would probably be the most bio energy efficient/less emissions heavy if the whole world shifted away from a meat-based diet. But ideal isn’t always realistic/something we can achieve overnight. Meat alternatives are often expensive or time consuming to prepare (like beans/legumes). The way I see it, this blog is part of a harm reduction approach in facilitating an appreciation/love/education for livestock and then encouraging people to seek out more mindful sources of meat, like some local farms. We’ve seen time and time again, shame/blame are far less effective in getting people to re-examine their worldviews than education and love.

thank you so much for this ask, this is so so so so so lovely!!! i feel like a lot of people that arent farmers or dont have farmers in their family dont really understand just how much love is there.

[gigabyte-flare]

The Devil is Real (Part 1)

Summary: Your troubled older brother disappeared two years ago, vanishing without a trace; that is until one day you receive a letter from him. He’s living in Spain after having joined a religious group called Los Iluminados, his life seemingly changed for the better. He would love it if you came to visit him. Who are you to refuse an invitation from your beloved big brother, right?

Word Count: 4.2k

Pairing: plagas!Leon Kennedy x fem!reader (afab)

Disclaimer: This story is a work of fiction. Actions depicted in this story are not condoned in real life. You are responsible for your own content consumption. If any of the following warnings trigger you, please read at your own risk. Minors do not interact, this story is 18+ only.

Warnings: drug abuse mention, abusive household mention, religious cult, religious trauma, body horror, noncon, dubcon, unprotected p in v, creampie, oral (m and f receiving), kidnapping, yandere tendencies, somno, extreme violence and gore, human sacrifice, murder, blood play/kink, breeding kink, pregnancy, pet names, stockholm syndrome, DEAD DOVE: DO NOT EAT [More warnings may be added in future parts]

A/N: I want to give a shoutout to @d10nyx, who's bot heavily inspired this new series. I had been wanting to write plagas!Leon again for so long, but I wanted to do something I hadn't seen done before and my interaction with her bot planted the seed (breeding kink go brrrrrrrrrrrr). This will likely be my darkest series yet so if that's not your jam, I kindly ask that you keep scrolling. It should be noted that any of the Spanish seen in this series is either from my extremely vague recollection of the language from my youth or from Google translate, so I apologize if there's any weird grammar in any of the Spanish, it is not my intention to butcher the language.

I hope you guys like thrill rides :3

The title is inspired by Bad Things performed by I Prevail

April 22, 2008

Sis,

I apologize for this being the first time I’ve contacted you in two years, but I promise you, it was for good reason. I finally got help. I moved out to Spain to this lovely rural area called Valdelobos to live with this wonderful community called Los Iluminados. I’ve been sober for just over two years because of them. I would really love it if you came to visit, you would absolutely love it here, sis! I would love more than anything to share with you the community that has made such a huge difference in my life. I don’t have access to a computer, so you’ll have to send me a letter to reply. You can find the return address on the envelope. I eagerly await your letter!

With all my love,

Vince

You sit on your old saggy couch, gently holding the handwritten letter in your hands like it’s going to disintegrate. Your mind is in turmoil; your older brother Vincent, or Vince as most people call him, had disappeared about two years ago. He struggled with drug addiction when he reached adulthood, always chasing his next high. When you had reported him missing, police searched everywhere for him for weeks until you finally had to come to terms with the fact that he was most likely dead.

This letter, however, says otherwise.

“Who’s it from?” your boyfriend asks before sitting beside you, seeing the strained look on your face and growing concerned. 

You don’t answer him at first, your eyes locked on the weathered piece of paper. Realizing your boyfriend, Mark, had asked you a question, you blink a few times and shake your head, snapping yourself out of the shocked daze.

“It’s from Vince,” you reply, looking over at Mark.

Mark looks at the paper you’re holding, then back to you, “are you sure it’s from Vince?”

“Of course I’m sure! That is definitely his handwriting. He’s alive!” 

You hand the letter to Mark, who takes a moment to read the letter himself, adjusting his glasses as he does so, “he wants you to go visit. What are you going to do?”

“I have no idea…” you say softly, burying your face in your hands as you continue to struggle with your emotions.

Growing up, all you had was your brother, having lost your parents at a young age. Growing up, the both of you lived with your grandparents, but they were very abusive. As soon as Vince had turned 18, he fought to become your legal guardian and the two of you moved out. Unfortunately, Vince had turned to drugs to deal with his trauma, but could you blame him? Your grandfather was especially hard on Vince; there were many nights you could remember falling asleep to the sounds of the two of them shouting and throwing things at each other. 

There’s a ten year gap between you and your brother, so naturally Vince had become something of a father figure to you, especially considering you were only two when your parents had died. A car accident you had been told; hit by a drunk driver on the way home from a New Year’s party. You felt like life always dealt you a shitty hand. First your parents, then your brother. But now, your brother seems to be back and he’s ok; he’s sober. You should be happy, so why are you so conflicted?

“I’m going to do some research on this ‘Los Iluminados’ group,” you finally say before standing up from the couch to walk into your bedroom, “make sure it isn’t some Jim Jones bullshit…”

“I’ll get dinner started then,” Mark says, also standing up, making his way over to the kitchen, “I’ll holler when dinner’s ready.”

You nod at Mark before walking into the bedroom, sitting down at your desk in the corner of the room, opening your laptop and powering it on. You open up Internet Explorer and open a new Google search window, typing in Los Iluminados which unsurprisingly yielded zero results; with them not having computer access, it makes sense that there’s no trace of this group on the internet by searching their name. You then search cults in Spain and skim through the results. Again, there’s no mention of Los Iluminados anywhere. Drumming your fingers on your desk, you begin to question the letter’s legitimacy. Whoever sent it knew where you lived and that your brother had been missing for two years. No one would go through that much trouble just to prank someone. 

“Babe, dinner’s ready!” you hear Mark call from the kitchen. 

Letting out a sigh, you reluctantly stand up from your desk, walking out of the bedroom to join your boyfriend in the living room, who just finished putting both your plates down onto the coffee table. Laying in the middle of the living room, your 8 year old brindle English Mastiff, André, lifts his head lazily, sniffing the air upon smelling food. You can’t help but let out a chuckle as you sit down on the couch, grabbing your plate to start eating.

“Even in his old age, André has a one track mind,” Mark says, watching as the large dog gets up from the floor. Mark gently pats him on the head, “don’t you buddy?”

“He sure does,” you reply, reaching over to pat the gentle giant before returning to your meal.

“Were you able to find anything on that group in the letter?” Mark asks, looking over at you before taking a bite of food. 

“Not a damn thing. Which I guess makes sense but still…” you say, your voice trailing off as you let out a heavy sigh, “something about it just doesn’t sit well with me.”

“Then we go to Spain, find out if this group is real or not and bounce if it’s just a wild goose chase,” Mark says, weaving his left hand through the air as he speaks.

“And who’s going to watch André?” 

André’s big brown eyes look between the two of you, letting out a soft whimper. Mark mouths the word ‘fuck’ before taking another bite of dinner.

“Right,” Mark says quietly, giving André another pat on the head.

The two of you finish eating dinner in silence, afterwards helping each other clean up the dishes. You let Mark know that you’re going to write a response to Vince’s letter, heading back up to the bedroom to sit back at the desk, pulling out a notebook and a pencil.

May 15, 2008

Vince,

First, I just want to say I am relieved to see that you’re ok and that you’re doing better. You had dropped off the face of the earth and I couldn’t find you anywhere; I thought you were dead! I’m so incredibly glad I was wrong. And, of course, congratulations are in order for your two years of sobriety. I know that’s something you really struggled with and I’m glad this community was able to help you. Is it a religious group? I think Los Iluminados roughly translates to “The Enlightened Ones” if my vague recollection of Spanish serves me right. Regardless, I would love to come visit you and see where you’ve been living these past two years, just let me know where I need to go.

Sis

May 31, 2008

Sis,

I was so excited to see you had written back that I practically ripped the envelope open. Los Iluminados is a small religious community and, I know what you’re thinking, it’s not a cult, so you have nothing to worry about there. They’re really big on living a traditional, almost pagan-like lifestyle and for me, being able to unplug while I got better was exactly what I needed. I’m hoping after experiencing Los Iluminados yourself that you’ll feel the same. As far as getting you here goes, you’ll want to fly into Valencia Airport, we’ll come pick you up from there. Call the enclosed number once you have your flight booked and tell Maria what day you’re coming. I’m looking forward to seeing you!

Vince

You tuck the letter back in your carry on bag, leaning back in your seat on the airplane and closing your eyes. You land in Valencia Airport in less than an hour and you are doing everything in your power to keep your nerves in check and not get your hopes up. You did as Vince had asked, you called this woman named Maria and with really broken Spanish, you had told her you were flying in on June 17th. At some point you must have dozed off because you’re jolted awake when the plane lands on the tarmac.

The plane pulls into the dock and you along with the other passengers file out. You head down to baggage claim to grab your luggage; you had packed about a week’s worth of clothes since you didn’t know how long you were staying. You low key were hoping to talk your brother into coming back to the States with you, but that’s a bridge you’ll cross when you get there. That thought is far from your mind, however, when you get through airport security and immediately spot your brother holding a large sign with your name on it. Your mouth hangs agape as you stop in your tracks. The last time you had seen him, he was a 33 year old who looked almost 50 due to his years of drug abuse. Now? He has color in his face, he’s gained weight and actually looks healthy. His clothes are a little disheveled and covered in dirt, but he’s smiling, probably the first time you’ve seen him smile since you were children.

Dropping your luggage, you run over to your brother, throwing your arms around him and hugging him tight, tears freely flowing from your eyes as you cry out, “it’s you, you’re real! You’re alive!”

Vince tightly hugs you back, rocking you both back and forth before stepping back, smiling down at you as his hands remain on your shoulders, “look at you! All grown up; 25 has treated you nicely!”

You playfully scoff before walking back to grab your luggage, “hardly.”

You return to Vince, who then takes your luggage from you as the two of you begin to walk out of the airport, “how’s Mark? You two are still together, I take it?”

“We are! He’s doing good, he’s at home watching André.”

“André is still around? That’s nice to hear!” Vince says as the two of you walk up to a very beat up looking sedan, “here’s our luxury limousine!”

You playfully smack him with the back of your hand, “very funny, Vince.”

You watch as Vince opens the trunk of the sedan, putting your luggage inside, he looks up at you as he closes the trunk, “go ahead and get in the back seat, Sis.”

You nod in acknowledgement, climbing into the back seat, your brother joining you shortly after. An older couple sits in the driver’s and passenger’s sides of the sedan, promptly driving away from the airport once you and your brother put your seatbelts on. 

“We have about a three hour drive ahead of us, you must be exhausted from your flight,” Vince says, looking over at you and giving you a warm smile.

You nod, feeling your eyes grow heavy from jet lag, however you force your eyes to stay open; you desperately don’t want to miss a single moment with your brother.

“Hey,” Vince lays a hand on your shoulder, “it’s ok, get some rest, I’ll wake you up when we get close to the village.”

“If you say so…” you reply softly. 

You hesitantly let your eyes close, drifting off into a dreamless sleep. It feels like only a moment has passed when Vince shakes you awake.

“Hey Sis, we’re here!”

After getting out of the car, there was still a considerable hike until you got to the village proper. Once getting there, however, you find yourself pleasantly surprised. You weren't sure what you were expecting of a small village at the center of a religious community but what you’re seeing wasn’t it. It is a bonafide village, with actual houses, a town center, a watchtower and a large brick structure towards the back. In the distance, you can see a windmill slowly spinning. You chalk it up to the large number of documentaries you had watched on cults leading up to this trip that painted a picture in your mind of what this village would look like; the small, white cottages of People’s Temple immediately coming to mind. A part of you is glad you were wrong.

“So, what do you think?” Vince asks me, gesturing one of his hands towards the village, “this is where I’ve been these last two years.”

“It’s nothing like what I expected, it’s… honestly really peaceful,” you reply, looking around the village in awe.

You watch as several of the other villagers stop what they’re doing to look at you and your brother, an older woman over by a well giving both of you a warm smile before pulling a bucket of water up from the well.

“My house is over here,” Vince continues, pointing to one of the houses on the left before leading you towards it. 

Vince’s house sits next to the watchtower, he opens the door and walks inside. Before you enter, you happen to turn around and look towards the large brick building in the back of the village. Standing at the door is someone wearing a black cloak with gold trim, underneath his clothes you can tell he’s wearing cargo pants and a tight fitting athletic shirt of some kind. But that’s not what grabs your attention; it’s his azure eyes locked on you, causing your blood to run cold.

“Vince,” you say, your voice trembling as you reach to grab his wrist, stopping him, “who is that over there?”

Vince turns to look where you’re looking, letting out a soft chuckle once he sees who you’re looking at, “him? That’s just Leon. He’s the right hand of our Lord Saddler. He’s probably here to check on things, don’t worry about him. Come inside.”

Vince practically pulls you, shutting and barring the door shut once you’re inside.

“Why are you blocking the door?” you ask, raising an eyebrow as your brother turns to face you.

“We tend to have an open door policy in the village. Where you and I haven’t seen each other for awhile, I figured it’d be best to have some privacy, wouldn’t you agree?”

You nod as you take in your surroundings. There’s a staircase leading upstairs and around the corner, a dining table and a kitchen area. Several candles are burning; they definitely don’t have electricity and running water in this village. Behind your brother is a worn couch.

“Is that where I’m sleeping?” you ask, pointing at the couch.

“Nope, you get the bed upstairs. I can live with the couch for a while. Nothing but the best for my little sis.”

“Thanks Vince,” you reply, grabbing your luggage, “I’ll bring this upstairs, then maybe we can talk. You know… catch up.”

You grab your luggage, dragging it up the stairs. You spot the bed at the end of the bannister next to a window overlooking the village center. As you’re staring out the window, you spot the cloaked man, Leon, again. He’s standing in the center of town, looking right at you. It sends a chill down your spine. You turn around and scream a little when your brother taps you on the shoulder.

“You ok? You weren’t answering me,” Vince says, his face full of concern.

“Sorry… it’s that guy. He’s right down there staring at the window,” you reply, turning to point out the window, however, Leon is gone, “oh, nevermind. It must have been my imagination.”

“He’s like… a guard dog of sorts. He’s probably just making sure you’re chill,” Vince explains, gently grabbing you by your upper arm and leading you back downstairs, “he’s like that with anyone he doesn’t know.”

“Right, of course…” you’re still uneasy, but decide to trust your brother.

“I’ll get started on dinner, have a seat at the table,” says Vince before walking over to the large wood stove, which is already aflame.

“Can I help with anything?” you ask, still standing by the table.

“No, I got it. Been doing this for two years. I can handle it. You’re the guest of honor, you just sit back, relax and let your brother take care of you.”

While your brother prepares dinner for the two of you, you make small talk, getting him caught up on the two years worth of stuff he missed. You told him about Mark and André, told him that your horrendous grandfather finally passed away a year ago; you had caught a smirk on Vince’s face before he turned his attention back to making dinner. Once dinner is finished, he sets both plates down at the table and the two of you dig in.

“Earlier you had said Lord Saddler,” you begin, taking a bite of food before continuing, “Vince… are you sure this isn’t a cult?”

Your brother bursts out laughing, reaching over to put his hand on yours to comfort you, “Lord Osmund Saddler is the patriarch of Los Iluminados and the speaker for the Holy Body. I’m not held here against my will. I promise you with every fiber of my being, this isn’t a cult, Sis.”

“I’m sorry I just… I may have watched a bunch of documentaries before coming here on cults and I just want what’s best for you, that’s all.”

Vince smiles, “Don’t worry, no one is going to drink any Kool Aid here.”

“Vince, that’s terrible!” you playfully smack him, “also it wasn’t even Kool Aid!”

You can’t help but laugh, slowly letting your mind be at ease. It’s clear your brother is happy and healthy here in this village. Before you can continue your conversation with Vince, you hear the chime of a church bell in the distance and you watch as your brother immediately stands up.

“What’s that all about?” you ask, slowly standing up. 

“That is the sound of evening service. Come! I’d love for you to see one of Father Méndez’s services.”

Taking your hand, Vince unblocks the door and takes you outside. You see all the villages are filling into the large brick building you had seen Leon standing in front of earlier.

“That’s the meeting house, we have to pass through it to get to the church,” he explains to you as he leads you to follow the other villagers inside the building. 

Upon walking in there is a large room, shelves of food and supplies lining the walls. In the back of the room was a large painting of a robed man; not Leon, but someone else, Vince notices you staring at the painting.

“That is our Lord Saddler. Hopefully you’ll get to meet him during your visit; he’s a wonderful patriarch, I think you’ll like him.”

There is something about the painting that unsettles you, but you can’t put your finger on it; nor do you have time to because before you know it, Vince is leading you into the adjacent room. This room has a large table lined with chairs on both sides. You both proceed around the table exiting out of the door on the other side with the other villagers. The door takes you out to a winding path which opens up to a cemetery with the church sitting just at the top of the hill.

You and your brother make your way up the hill, following the rest of the villagers into the church where you and your brother sit in one of the pews in the middle. There is an extremely tall man standing at the altar, wearing a black leather trench coat and a large brim hat. His dark beard has subtle white hairs, indicating to you that he’s much older than you and your brother. In fact, now that you think about it, you realize you and your brother are probably the youngest ones in the church.

Behind the imposing man is a large stained glass window decorated with red, blue, green and white. The white glass makes a pattern. You’re not sure what to make of it; it’s almost like a crude insect-like cross with four appendage-like parts extended out with a tail pointing downwards. Once everyone is seated in the pews, the man at the altar addresses the villagers.

“My brothers and sisters,” the man begins, his Hispanic accent thick, “before we begin tonight’s sermon, I wanted to welcome the visitor that Vincent has brought to visit our village.” The man gestures one of his hands towards us, “if you would do the honors, Vincent.”

Your brother stands up, “Gracias, Father Méndez. This is my younger sister,” he says before telling everyone your name, “she’ll be staying with me for a while, we haven’t seen each other since I first came here. I hope you all can join me in showing her what makes Los Iluminados a special community.”

The other villagers clap softly as Vince sits back down. After that, Father Méndez begins the service, which is in Spanish, so you strained your brain to try to pick up bits and pieces of what he’s saying. This doesn’t last long, however as your eye catches movement in the darkness in the back of the church. You feel your heart skip; it’s Leon again, his azure gaze once again locked on you. His expression is cold and emotionless, but there is no doubt in your mind that he is staring at you. 

As if sensing your unease, your brother nudges you with his elbow and whispers, “what’s wrong?”

“It’s Leon again…” you reply, nodding your head in Leon’s direction.

Vince’s gaze follows yours, spotting Leon staring at you from the back of the church. Vince lets out a soft sigh.

“I’ll talk to Father Méndez after the service.”

For the rest of the service, you steal glances towards the back of the church, where Leon remains, still staring at you. At the end of the service, however, when you look back, Leon is finally gone, much to your relief. 

Father Méndez’s booming voice draws your attention back to him, “¡Gloria a Las Plagas!”

“¡Gloria a Las Plagas!” the villagers, including Vince, repeat back.

Gloria a Las… Plagas? you think to yourself, glory to the… plague? Plagues? Pests? What? That makes no sense…

Before you can think it over further, your brother stands up abruptly, pulling you up with him.

“Pablo,” Vince says as he approaches another villager, “¿Puedes llevar a mi hermana de regreso a mi casa? Tengo que hablar con el padre Méndez.”

The man nods, “sí, claro.”

Vince turns his attention back to you, “Pablo here is going to take you back to my house while I talk to Father Méndez about Leon, ok? I won’t be long.”

“Alright, thanks Vince,” you reply as Pablo gently takes you by your upper arm, leading you out of the church.

You turn back, watching your brother approach Father Méndez before the church doors close behind you.

“Vincent,” Méndez begins as Vince approaches him, “what can I do for you, my brother?”

“It’s about Leon,” Vince says, crossing his arms, “I want him to leave my sister alone.”

“What do you mean? You do remember what you agreed to, no?” Méndez presses straightening his posture.

“I do remember, but he is scaring her. All he’s done since she got here is stare at her.”

“And? Are you saying you’re defying the will of Lord Saddler?”

“No, of course not!” Vince exclaims before lowering his voice, “but if we want any chance of her staying in Los Iluminados, he needs to chill out with the staring, ok? Is that too much to ask, Father?”

Méndez brings a hand to his beard, stroking it as he contemplates Vince’s request. After a few moments, he gently nods, “fine. I will speak with Lord Saddler on this.”

“Thank you, Father.”

She is perfect.

Leon stands at the end of the bed that you’re sleeping in, completely oblivious to his presence. Bringing his hands up, he lowers the hood of his cloak. The exposed skin on his neck and face are completely covered in inky black veins and seem to pulse under his skin. He gently crawls onto the bed, being careful not to wake you as he cages you with his body.

Leaning down so that his nose is nearly pressed against the side of your neck, he breathes in your scent deeply, opening his mouth slightly to lick his sharpened incisors with his tongue. He moves away from your neck, staring down at you as he watches your chest rise and fall gently as you slumber. Unable to help himself, he leans back down, his lips hovering above yours when he hears the unmistakable sound of the front door opening downstairs.

His head snaps towards the stairs, crawling off your bed with the grace and stealth of a panther. He brings his hood back up over his head, walking silently over to the open window at the head of the stairs where he had let himself in, climbing out and shutting the window carefully behind him, not leaving a single trace that he was even there.

Part 2

[drunkenkissesatdusk]

MORNIN’

pairings — jason todd x fem!reader

warnings — mentions of scars (tracing healed ones), talk of marriage, being a normal mundane couple, VERY domestic romance (i crave!!), mentions of having children but nothing actually happening!!

summary — moving from gotham into a more rural and quiet area was the best decision you two had made, because it turned out perfectly.

━━━━━━━ WAKING UP TO YOUR side empty was normal, but still scary, for jason. he knew you were safe, he could smell the breakfast you were cooking downstairs. still, a part of him forced him up. he continued the same routine he’d normally follow now that you’d moved from Gotham together.

your marriage solidified your hopes of leaving Gotham behind. finding the house was the final straw, and Jason jumped at the chance to buy the house. thank god he’d been adopted into a rich family, since neither of you two had to work.

occasionally, you had part time shifts at a bakery in the small town nearby. you loved it, and Jason loved coming in to see you with flowers. the longer you two lived out here, the less people that cared how Jason was related to Bruce Wayne.

your lives had become a very mundane manner, your stomachs filled with a consistent warmth that eased you into the knowledge of safety. Jason no longer kept a gun under his pillow — you agreed to him keeping it in the beside table.

downstairs, Jason met your face in the small soft yellow kitchen. you’d painted over the original white color, in hopes of creating a very fairy-like cottage. it was working out, and you spun around to face your husband.

“hey, Jay.” you extended your arms, gathering him into a soft hug. Jason smiled into your neck, spinning you around. he peppered your face with kisses, muttering a greeting into your body.

“hey baby.” he said.

“y’hungry? i made pancakes.” you motioned your head to the plate on the table. there sat a plate of pancakes, bacon, eggs, and fruits. Jason felt the warmth bubble, and an indescribable feeling of pure love towards you filled him. he didn’t know how else to explain it, he stared lovingly at you as you plated up your own plate, pouring two cups of coffee and handing one to your husband.

together the two of you fixed up your coffees before walking together to the rocking chairs on your back porch. there sat a small table between the two chairs, and you both set your things down.

you jogged back inside, turning on your guys’s favorite cd — a collection of love songs from the 60s. the familiar Skeeter Davis song flowed from the open windows, setting a calm mood over you two.

you both began drinking from your cups of coffee, as well as taking portions of your carefully prepared breakfast.

“i’ve been thinking, y’know.” you spoke after taking another sip of coffee. Jason looked up, intrigued. you met his eyes, hesitation crossing your features for a second — you never had to be afraid of saying anything to him.

“‘bout what?” he spoke, taking another bite of bacon.

“i think im ready, for a kid. i talked to my manager, i can get the time off when it happens.” you reached for his hand, and he happily took it. this statement by no means meant the two of you would try to rush it, you were both ready, and wouldn’t want to rush through this cherishing moment.

“really?” he was smiling brightly.

the rest of the day was spent relaxed in the bedroom you two shared, his head on your stomach and your hand crossing his back across every one of his old scars.

he didn’t mind, you wouldn’t cause them to reopen. ever since his old scars had died out, you noted how calm he was, how serene this entire portion of your life was.

“im so grateful. i love you so much.” you muttered, running your hands through his hair.

“i love you too, baby.” he rose up to kiss you gently, rubbing your jaw with his hand.

this was all you ever wanted.

masterlist — reminder that my requests / inbox is open

[yeoldenews]

I know we live in a very different world now, but I find it concerning how the newspapers printed all these kids' addresses. Did any harm ever come from that, to your knowledge?

I feel like the concept of your address being private information is a very modern one. Any news story until the mid-20th century (and much later in small towns/rural areas) would include the addresses of the individuals involved. Even the smallest towns printed yearly city directories that listed everyone's current address and occupation. So I can't imagine anyone would hesitate to publish a child's address, as why bother concealing what was already considered public information?

Furthermore, the concept of stranger kidnapping - and 'stranger danger' in general - was not something that really entered the public consciousness in the US until the 1920s, and even then the vast majority of kidnappings were for ransom. It was something that happened to rich people, usually in big cities.

It wasn't until several extremely high profile kidnappings of children in the late 20s/early 30s (namely Marion Parker, Walter Collins and Charles Lindbergh Jr.) that the concept of a stranger taking your child would probably have even crossed the mind of the average parent.

Additionally it's important to understand that the role of small town newspapers (where most of the Dear Santa letters are from) was something closer to Facebook or the Nextdoor app than a source of important news. Going on a trip? It's in the newspaper. Having a small dinner party? That's getting reported, along with the guest list, menu, party favors and any decorations you put up. Your child built a particularly nice snowman? There's a reporter here and entire town will know before dinner time.

So is it possible that some burglar used a Dear Santa letter to target the home of a wealthy child sometime in the 1890s? Sure? But I can't see why in an era where if you wanted to know where someone lived you could stop any random person on the street and say "Hey, where do the Johnsons live?" and no one would hesitate to tell you.

[arkadijxpancakes]

Yes. The Weasleys had too many kids. An analysis. (Part 1 of 2)

Everyone who read Harry Potter read about the prejudices regarding the Weasleys: They all have red hair, are poor and have more kids than they can afford. Insert a sneering Malfoy here.

The books were adamant that that was not the case. The Weasleys are depicted as the best family in the books. (Just look at the others. The Dursleys were narrow-minded, bigoted and abusive. The Malfoys were bigoted terrorists. The Lovegoods were weird. Let’s not even start about Merope and Riddle.)

However, if you look closer, the prejudices have some truth to them: They had more kids than they could afford. However, money isn’t the issue here, not really.

Yes, the Weasleys are clearly depicted as members of the working class. They don’t have much money and fall back on second-hand stuff a lot of the time. Ron in particular is shown to be using hand-me-downs in book one.

However, they don’t live in abject poverty. The family owns their own home on their own land. They have a garden to grow their own vegetables and they have chickens. This means that food scarcity shouldn’t be a big issue for them, because they can produce a lot of it on their own. (Magic should make this even easier, because they can use it for the gardening stuff. And if we assume that you can duplicate food, this should keep everyone well-fed.)

The main issue when it comes to money isn’t that they don’t have anything. They have clearly enough money to stay comfortably over water. They just don’t have enough money to buy all the fancy shit the wizarding world uses as status symbols. (Like racing brooms and dress robes.)

Could things be better, money-wise? Sure. But one can have a loving, comfortable childhood, even with second-hand clothes and working class food. So no. It’s not about the money.

It’s about time. 

And it's also about how the parents divide that time (and the work that comes along with it.)

The Weasleys follow a family structure one would expect from a muggle family of their time (the second half of the 20th century): Arthur is the one who goes out to work and earns money, while his wife Molly is a stay-at-home-mother who takes care of their home and kids. It’s also just their nuclear family that lives in the burrow. There are no other relatives (no grandparents and no aunts or uncles, either) living there.

I find this a little bit weird, tbh. The nuclear family (parents and kids) living alone, without any other relatives and with the father as the sole breadwinner, is a pretty new development. The practice only really established itself after the Statute of Secrecy went into effect. It developed first in the upper classes (who used this to flaunt their wealth) and in urban centers (where there was no space to live together with your extended family.) Before this, living with one's extended family was very common, especially in rural areas, where it was beneficial to stick together. The Weasley’s don’t really have a reason to live as a nuclear family. There is no need for wizards to follow the Muggle trend, and things were different before the statute. Living with other, adult family members would also be beneficial, especially for Molly. And the books do suggest that the extended family is quite large, so “They don’t live with other relatives, because they don’t have any” doesn’t fit their situation either.

This is a common theme for Rowling, by the way. She tends to ignore the extended families of her characters, whenever it is possible. The numbers of grandparents, aunts, uncles and cousins that get mentioned in the book is incredibly low. (The only character who seems to have close connections to his extended family is Neville – and that’s because the other members of his nuclear family are completely absent because of health reasons.)

Anyway. When we look back at the Weasleys, this leaves Molly basically as a tradwife. (Minus the religious baggage.) But let's start at the beginning. 

(Note: I will focus on the books in this. I don’t consider the games canon and will not use them as a source.) Arthur and Molly were born around 1950. We know that he went to Hogwarts from 1961 to 1968. They were close enough in age to start a relationship while still at Hogwarts, and they married shortly after graduating. For this to work, she must have been in his year or maybe the year below or above.

Bill was born in 1970 and was followed by six siblings, the last who was born in 1981. So from the age of ca. 20 to the age of ca. 33 Molly was either pregnant or nursing at least one baby at any given time. (There might have been a short break in that pattern between Charlie and Percy, but it only got worse after that.)

As I said before, Molly and Arthur seem to have a very traditional division of labor between them: He works at the ministry and earns money, she takes care of their home and kids. This means that Molly has drawn the short end of the stick.

While Arthur is working one job 9-5, Molly has to work three jobs and at least one of them is 24/7. Let’s pick them apart:

Her first job is to take care of the home. Molly cleans the house and does the laundry. It is also very likely that she is not only responsible for cooking, but for food production in general. This means that she takes care of the garden and chickens. This would be pretty exhausting, if not for her magic. She can likely cut down on time and effort by using magic for most of those tasks.

On top of this, she is also producing at least some of the clothing her family wears. We don't see her sewing, but she knits a lot. She is using magic for that, too.

Her second job is to raise their kids. Molly is their primary caregiver and does most of the parenting. This is a difficult job to begin with, but there are seven of them. This is where her workload starts to stretch her thin. It can’t be easy to do the laundry, while Ginny needs to be fed, Bill and Charlie are arguing in the backyard, and the twins have just vanished. Magic is less helpful here, because a lot of the work requires her to interact with her kids. She can’t really flick her wand to speed that up.

On top of that - and this is where things get even worse - there doesn't seem to be any kind of elementary school in Wizarding Great Britain. At the very least, the books do not mention any form of primary education and Hogwarts seems to be Ron’s first school. But Hogwarts still requires its students to be able to read, write and do math. Having some education about the Wizarding World couldn’t hurt, either.

However, someone has to teach the kids. And this someone is probably Molly, because Arthur is at work, and they don’t have the money for a private tutor. They cant sent their kids to an elementary school, because there is none. (And they obviously did not send them to a muggle school.) 

So this is her third job. This is another job she can’t really speed up with magic, because she can’t hex the knowledge into her kids’ brains. (Or at least I hope she can’t, because everything else would be disturbing.)

This means Molly has to take care of their home, produce their food, take care of their kids and teach them elementary school-stuff. All while being pregnant and/or nursing for circa 13 years straight.

Her workload just isn’t doable for a single person. It might have started off okay, when she only had Bill and Charlie, and it probably got better once most kids had left the house to study at Hogwarts. But the years in between must have been hell. And she did not really have any help to do it.

Arthur was off to work most days and seems to spend quite a lot of time on his hobby. Additionally, he just doesn’t seem to be all that involved as a father and seems to take care mostly of the fun stuff. 

His parenting style is much more relaxed than Molly’s, too. He’s probably the parent the kids go to when they want to do something their mother would say no to. This, of course, makes parenting even harder for her, because she doesn’t just have to deal with the kids, but also with Arthur’s parenting decisions. There are no other adult family members around to help her, either. They also don’t have the money to hire help. (No wonder Molly dreamed of having her own slave house elf. It would have allowed her to drastically reduce her workload. It’s a really disgusting wish, but I understand where it comes from.)

This is where the family dynamics probably took their first severe hit: It’s very likely that Molly’s workload left her with more work than she was able to do consistently. Whether Arthur pulled his weight in that regard is questionable (and he was at work for most of the day anyway.) She also had no other adults to help her, so she probably offloaded her workload elsewhere: her kids.

Yes. I think it is very likely that the Weasleys parentified their kids, especially Bill, Charlie and Percy. We don’t see it with Bill and Charlie, probably because they had already left the house when Harry meets the family. Still, it’s a little weird that both of them went to live so far away from home. Yes, sure, exploring tombs in Egypt and taming dragons in Romania is fun and exciting in and off itself – but being so far away from home that mom can’t rope you into household chores and babysitting duty is probably a really nice bonus. It would also relax their familial relationships quite a bit, because moving away gives them control over when and how they want to engage. (And it’s probably easier to be the fun big brother to your younger siblings when you aren’t required to watch and control them every day.)

We do see it with Percy, however. He looks after and take responsibility for his younger siblings a lot, especially at Hogwarts. You can see it in the way he looks after Ginny and how he’s constantly at odds with Fred and George because they refuse to follow any rules.

Fuck, he still does this after the big row with his father. Yes, the letter he sends to Ron is pretty obnoxious, but he still wrote it. He did not need to. At that point he had cut all contact, after all. He clearly cared for his younger brother and wanted to look out for him, even if he did it in the most annoying way possible. It would be interesting to know whether he also wrote to Ginny or the twins or not.

Also, did I mention that the Weasleys have too many kids?

They have too many kids.

It’s a numbers game, really. The more kids you have, the more time you have to use for household chores (you need to clean more, wash more, cook more, etc.) You also have less time to spend time with each kid individually. This is especially true for quality time – so time that isn’t spent on chores or education. Time that is spent playing and talking with each other, just to enjoy each other's company.

Molly is already working three jobs. She doesn’t really have any opportunity to spend time with her kids equally. She’s too busy looking after the home and teaching the older ones, while watching the younger ones and making sure the twins don’t burn the house down. 

I just don’t see her spending quality time with her kids regularly, because of this. It’s just difficult to talk with Charlie about his favorite dragons or read something to Percy or to play with Ron, when there is always someone else who needs her more. Full diapers. Empty stomachs. Unyielding stains of unknown origin on Arthur's work robes. A sudden explosion on the second floor. And probably everything at the same time and all the time.

So yeah. Chances are that her attention and her affection can be pretty hard to come by at times. (To a certain degree, this also applies to Arthur, because he is away from home so much.)

Let’s look at the timeline.

It probably starts pretty harmless:

1970 - Bill is born, and he’s the only kid for two years. Yeah, it’s Molly’s first child, and she is a really young mother, but she is a stay-at-home-mum, and it’s just one kid. It’s mostly her and Bill who are at home, and her workload isn’t all that big, because she can use magic for most stuff. The war has started, but it probably hasn’t kicked into overdrive just yet, so this shouldn’t affect her too much either.

1972 – Charlie is born. Molly’s workload is expanding, but things should still be pretty manageable. Also, they don’t have another kid for almost four years. This allows Molly to adjust to caring for two kids. She can also relax from both pregnancies and births. If it wasn’t for the war, this might be her favorite years as a mother.

When Arthur is involved in parenting Bill and Charlie, it’s probably on the weekends. I can imagine him taking them out to do fun stuff, so their mother can get some rest. It’s probably a great time for him, because he can bond with his boys. I can’t see him do much more than that, though. Molly has a handle on things, and interfering could be seen as overstepping.

1976 – Percy is born. This is probably the moment, where the attention-distribution in the family gets a little bit wonky. Molly has three kids now, and it’s the middle of the war. Bill is almost six, which means that she has to start teaching him, while simultaneously nursing Percy and keeping Charlie entertained/away from trouble. This is probably still manageable. She can wait a little longer with teaching Bill, so she can teach him and Charlie together. She can also hand him (and maybe Charlie) over to Arthur, so he can teach him/them on weekends.

Additionally, Arthur is probably still taking Bill and Charlie out for some bonding-fun-time. However, the war is in full swing now, so leaving the house gets increasingly dangerous. Their trips will get shorter and stay closer to home. They will happen less frequently, too. He will also end up working more because of the war, doing overtime much more frequently. When he is home, he is going to be exhausted, as a result.

1978 – Fred and George are born. The attention-distribution in the family falls off a cliff.

This is when Molly's workload starts to become overwhelming. Charlie will be 6 at the end of the year, Bill will be 8. She has to start teaching them, if she hasn’t already. Otherwise, Bill will not be ready when he starts Hogwarts.

And on top of everything, Molly has to take care of the twins. She has to do everything that needs to be done for a newborn – times two.

So her workload explodes. Molly is raising five kids, now. She needs to educate Bill and Charlie, nurse Fred and George, and has to make sure Percy doesn’t fall to the wayside completely. She also has her household chores that aren’t related to her kids. The war is still raging on. Arthur is probably tied up at work most of the time, and when he is home, he’s exhausted. And Molly will be pregnant again in a year. (Really, why do they have so many kids during a war? One or two, I would understand, but this is getting irresponsible.)

This is probably the time when Bill has to take over at least some chores, not just to learn how to do them, but to take some pressure off of his mother. This might not be parentification yet, but it will get worse over time. I assume he has to look after his younger brothers a lot.

On top of all that, it is increasingly hard to shield the kids from the war. At least Bill and Charlie are old enough to understand that things are really, really wrong and scary. And there is not much Molly can do about it.

1980 - Ron is born. The twins are already old enough to open cupboards. Molly is not having a great time. She probably hands over Percy to Bill and Charlie (“Go, play with your little brother!”), so she can take care of baby Ron while keeping an eye on the twin shaped chaos that is growing by the day. She will be pregnant again in a couple of months.

Bill (who will be 10 at the end of the year) and Charlie (8) still require teaching. Percy (4) isn’t old enough just yet, but he will be, soon. (And, let’s face it: It’s Percy. Chances are that he wants to learn, even now.)

The war is still in full swing. Arthur is still overworked and underpaid. Everyone is tired and scared. This also affects the kids. There is probably a lot of pressure on Bill as the oldest brother to watch over his younger siblings, to make sure all of them stay safe. They don’t spend much time outside their home, because it’s just too dangerous to do so.

Around 1980/81 is also the time when Molly’s brothers Fabian and Gideon die. (Gideon can be seen in the photograph that was taken of the Order before James and Lily went into hiding, so he was still alive back then. But we know that he dies soon after the photograph was taken.) Molly never talks about her brothers in canon, but this must have been horrible for her.

1981 – Ginny is born. They are seven kids now. Fabian and Gideon will be dead by the end of the year (if they aren’t already.) Molly’s workload is at its peak, while her ability to pay equal amounts of attention to her kids is at an all-time low. She’s grieving, the rest of her family is in danger, and Arthur is stuck at the ministry. This means that she will likely lean on Bill’s support even more. As Charlie is 8 now (and will be 9 at the end of the year), Molly might consider him old enough to help, so he might see an increase in responsibility, too. At this point, we are in parentification-territory.

With each day, the twins grow more into the troublemakers we see in canon. This sucks away attention and affection from their siblings (simply because they need to be watched and disciplined).

I think the following years are very formative for the family dynamics between the kids. It’s probably less pronounced for Bill and Charlie (who are stuck with chores and babysitting-duty and will leave for Hogwarts soon-ish) and Ginny (who gets more attention because she is the youngest child and only girl). It’s worse for the others. Percy, Fred, George and Ron are basically in direct competition for their mother's attention. I think the dynamic develops as follows:

Fred and George are active and pretty extroverted. They explore a lot and start to play pranks on their family members. This is overall harmless, but Molly has to pay attention to them, to make sure that no one accidentally gets hurt. From this, the twins learn that they can get Molly’s attention by causing trouble, so they will lean into it even more.

This sucks away attention from Percy and Ron. It causes Percy to veer hard into the opposite direction: He tries to gain Molly’s attention by following all her rules and fulfilling her wishes. This earns him her affection and will turn him into her golden child in the long run. It will also put a strain on his relationship with the twins, because Molly compares them a lot, especially when angry. This will cause Percy to perform the “Good boy”-role even harder (because he doesn’t want to be treated like the twins), while they start to resent him on some level.

Ron on the other hand is still too young to affect the family dynamic on his own. He internalizes that his mother cares more about his siblings and that there is nothing he can do about it.

The only good news: At the end of the year, the war ends. This will bring a lot of relief. (It’s short term relief for now, things will need some time to go back to normal.)

However, the end of the war also means, that Percy gets a pet. Either late in 1981 or early in 1982 he (or another member of the family) finds a rat that is missing a finger on its front paw. Percy keeps him and calls him Scabbers.

We all know who Scabbers is, of course. I just want to highlight how fucked up this situation is. Percy is 5, when he adopts him. Because he was a little kid, he probably took him everywhere without a second thought – into the bathroom, into his bed, you know, everywhere. There is probably no part of Percy’s body Scabbers hasn’t seen. Percy probably told him everything, too, all his worries, all of his fears. It’s just creepy.

And keep in mind, Scabbers – Peter – is not just a random wizard. He is a Death Eater and mass murderer. We don’t know if he ever hurt Percy (there are fanfics that do explore that possibility). He probably didn’t, but the idea alone is nightmare fuel.

To get this back on track: This could have impacted the sibling-relationship, too. It depends on whether the other kids were allowed to keep pets.

With that, we are done with the war and with Molly’s time being pregnant. The family dynamic is already fucked up – and it will get worse, as the kids get older. However, this post is long enough, already. So we’ll take a break here. Next time, we will look at how the dynamics shift, once the kids start to go to Hogwarts. See ya!

[nadinediary]

The 7 Dating Bare Minimums from 𝒩adine

1. Shared Values + Belief

Values are prioritised characteristics that build who we are as individuals and our belief is what forms our world view and lifestyle. I find it easier to build a relationship with someone when your values and beliefs align. I cannot envision a relationship or even casually date someone who I can't see eye-to-eye on the core attributes that form my life and character.

I can understand being lenient on religious and political beliefs when casually dating although for long term relationships, I need to be on the same topic about religion, politics, children, cheating, etc.

2. Romantic (Considerate)

I personally can not be in a relationship or date a person who can’t exhibit romance. Romance to myself isn’t the flowers (not saying I don’t adore flowers), or the chivalrous actions shown in the rom-coms.

Romance is the small intimate actions that show you’ve been paying close attention to your loved one wants and needs. It’s the considerate small things that may take a little more time but are worth it.

3. Chivalrous

Talking about chivary, don’t get it confused, I love a chivalrous man. The door opening, pulling the seat out, making sure I’ve gotten home safe, I’m quite old fashion when it comes to dating. I love it all.

I find it charming when someone is chivalrous to everyone not just when it pertains to myself. If they see someone needing help and step in, I think that's a great trait to have. I don't want someone who just does things out of attraction but rather because of kindness.

4. Well groomed

Personally a man is most attractive when they are well groomed, actively upkeep themselves and pay great attention to their hygiene. This idea that only women get manicures and pedicures is ridiculous. I know plenty of men that like keeping their cuticle healthy.

Every man that has had the honor of taking me on a date or more, has had a skincare routine (even if it's just a three step routine). They’ve all had beautiful nails and I could tell they cared about cleanliness.

5. Adaptable + Resilient

I‘m a first-generation immigrant who has seen poverty and wealth, I’ve gone from living in the scums of rural Nirobei to the upper class Australian suburban area. This is all because of God’s blessing and my family’s resilience.

I need a partner who is both resilient and adaptable when in situations less than ideal. I’m a strong minded individual and hope the same for my partner.

6. Communicative

We’ve all heard about the importance of communication in relationships but not all communication is healthy.

It's important for your partner to be open to hearing you, a lot of people lack listening skills so it's precious when you find someone who really listens and respects you. Trauma can cause people to close up but there are many different ways to communicate from written to spoken, as long as my partner shows they are communicative I don't care.

7. Generous

I come from a generous family, I’m surrounded by generous people and I myself am always ready to give if someone needs. I could not envision any relationship, friendship or romantic relationship with someone who wasn’t as giving.

Generosity isn’t neglecting yourself for other, it's lifting each other up, know when to say no while being kind to others situations. I don't want a pushover, I want a generous partner.

Sincerely,

𝒩adine.

[k0droid]

would they say the n-word / are they racist: twisted wonderland edition

Inspired by twstowo's taxes headcanon post.

I meant to post this during february but i just didnt.

REMEMBER THAT IS ALL FOR SHITS N GIGGLES. IF YOU THINK YOUR POOKIE IS/IS NOT A RACIST, REBLOG OR LEAVE A COMMENT

4/2 edit: JESUS CHRIST DON'T TAKE THIS SERIOUSLY 😭😭 THESE AREN'T REAL HCS, JUST SOMETHING STUPID FOR BLACK TWST FANS TO ENJOY

GRIM: Yess that's my baby boy my son my son yes I give him the pass

RIDDLE: Couldn't waterboard the n-word outta him. Uses 'Off With Your Head' to punish anyone who uses slurs

TREY: Wouldn't. Not a racist and has no interest in saying the word.

CATER: Researches what's offensive to certain groups so he can stay respectful, no n-word from him

ACE: ace is literally that one white friend who thinks his n-word 'jokes' are funny (they're not) and he walks around with Riddle's collar because of that. He def went to a middle school named after a Confederate, but he's not racist for the most part "I play basketball so-" or "I'm gonna say the n-word: ninja!!" - 🥸

DEUCE: No. He's a good guy. He would never and if he said something remotely offensive, he'd apologize with tears

LEONA: YESS BLACK KING 🗣🔥🔥‼‼‼‼

JACK: Could and he does, but only occasionally. Punches the shit outta Ace's shoulder if he says something distasteful

RUGGIE: YES he just light-skinnted 😕 Ace would make fun of him for eating all the stereotypical foods

AZUL: Slightly racist. Just slightly. Seems like the type to get a lil tense when a tanned, well-built dude walks into the Monstro Lounge. starts clutching his pearls n shit

JADE: No, I don't really see him being racist or saying the n-word

FLOYD: Probably the least likely to say the n-word and would get offended that you even assumed. Like his entire mood would change if you mention it "Ehh Shrimpy? You tryna get squeezed? What made you think I would say that??" *fucking kills you*

KALIM: No, no n-word from Al-Asim. I could see him as a racist though. i think of kalim as purposely ignorant so in my mind, he's INTENTIONAL with his microaggressions but no one really calls him out on it.

JAMIL: Yes but only cuz I give him the pass.

VIL: Doesn't say the n-word (he knows better) but probably screams it in his thoughts. idk guys vil just seems a bit racist.

ROOK: Who's in Paris. LOL but I don't think he'd say the n-word. Also probably one of the least racist here. But he'd bring up eugenics in a convo and ruin the mood completely.

EPEL: I genuinely don't know if he would or not. Like because he from some rural area (to my knowledge, i js started book 5), i feel like he wouldn't because he'd know better. but i also heard that epel is misogynistic and hating black people & hating women go hand in hand (misogynoir)

IDIA: No but it wouldn't be surprising. i can already imagine him in that cod lobby. probably gets his slurs from cater

ORTHO: No my sweet child would not say the n-word. would blast idia out of this world with a charged beam if he said anything offensive

MALLEUS: No.

LILIA: Probably has said it before and is the most educated when it comes to black culture in the diasomnia group other than sebek (my 4c king)

SEBEK: No, in fact i might give him the pass (#mixedking😍❤️)

SILVER: No but probably a little colorist. yk how some black men love to scream from the mountain tops that they love white women? well silver is that white woman. js saying

this was fun to make. pls remember that its just a silly post, dont get mad because only hit dogs will holler.

"what abt the staff/yuus/extras-" send an ask :3

4/2 edit: its crazy cuz the only mad people are white🧍🏾‍♀️

[eroslove88]

You're a Grown Woman

Warnings: Noncon, kidnapping, Stockholm Syndrome :(!, PTSD, and throwing up (just mentioned)

Pairing: Yan. Ranpo x Fem. Reader

Notes: Ass writing from the long break, but I hope you all enjoy I saw this in my drafts from months ago and thought it was time to share it! :).

It's been months since you were properly able to answer your phone, and the slightest vibration from a notification makes you tense up. Your mom walks up from behind up she talks to you, but you can't hear her, and your mind is somewhere else thinking about your afternoon. An afternoon of... confronting? "Mom..." you whisper touching her hand with was softly placed on your shoulder, "He's... What if he hears the podcast?" she crouches down in front of you and grabs your hands, and gives them a light squeeze, "Don't worry sweetie, you're saf-"

Your phone dings and you eagerly pick it up. 'Hey, still struggling with physics? ;)' a blush spreads throughout your face and you start typing some sort of gibberish before deleting it, 'Sorta... i think i mite get a tutor :(' But your ears heat up, his icon appears and you desperately watch as the three dots fade in and out. 'I can help you <3'

The drive to the studio is long and your support group is practically blowing up your phone with supportive messages. "Hey," at the red light your mom turns to you brushes your hair with her fingers, you stiffen at the unexpected feeling, "It's going to be okay, don't worry." You put your phone down into the cup holder letting your friends message just marinate on your phone.

"Sorry I'm late" a laugh escapes your lips as you drag your bag with large textbooks, notebooks, folders and pencil pouches, "I didn't think you lived across town" Ranpo snickers at your red, sweaty face, "Came in a rush?" he teases, "So desperate to see me" Ranpo leads you his hand on your back. You feel your face turn red with a heavy blush, "I-uh-I have a curfew." You're so stuck in your head you don't seem to notice your heading towards the basement until, "Oh-uh Ranpo-" he cuts you off taking the key out of his pocket, "My room is in the basement" You turn around and touch his forearm, "Let's study in the-" his finger goes to your lips, "What?" he chuckles, "Are you scared?" No. You were nervous. Your crush is inviting you down to his room. Shaking your head you watch as he pushes open the door. You're biting your bottom lip as you make your way down the stairs, and you're so nervous you don't notice how quiet Ranpo is. You take his room in, there's a stand for... "You sketch?" you ask with a chuckle putting your bag down and taking out your textbook. "That's so unexpected" he's quiet... Did you say something wrong? "Uh... Where should I sit?" he didn't have a desk and- his coat is coming off oh god... It's hot in here. "You didn't think we were really going to study, did you?" The dim light hits his face so that his smile is slim, long, and uncomfortably filled with satisfaction.

"How long were you kept there?" a woman's voice brings you back, so you turn back. "What? I'm sorry..." she smiles softly and repeats herself as if it wasn't a burden, "How long were you kept there with-" "About 3 years... I think- I don't really know- I went missing" you're answering rushed, but you paused to look at your mom for conformation, "the 21st of March?" she nods and you turn back to the interviewer. Your mom's eyes are tearing up and she turns away from you. "Wow... And do you believe that it would have been longer if you hadn't escaped?"

You're breathing heavily, and your chest burns you weren't built for running. A few minutes ago you were practically jogging to his home, and now here you were trying to run as fast and as far away as you could from it. His footsteps were gone- or maybe it was from the panic. He lived in the rural area of the town and you couldn't believe that the nearest busy street was over a mile away- you think. How would you know? Your phone was in your bag on the floor of his room- a loud bang rings and there's a ringing in your ear. You feel a great amount of pain in your leg that spreads and your mouth hangs open. Hands shake when you fall to your side, a deep loud scream is ripped from your throat. Your head is shaking violently, screams aren't enough, you feel your face contort- you must look ugly right now-, you don't even notice when his footsteps are too close to comfort. "Oh, poor thing" he crouches down and grabs your leg making a new round of screams come out of your throat you almost sounded inhumane. What you wanted to do was yell "N-No!" or to beg him to stop.

"What did your everyday life look like?" she asks

"R-Ranpo!" you yell tears streaming down your face, "Please! You can't leave me here." Hours or days? You had no idea how long you had been left down here, and you can't help but take a look around the room you're locked in. He told you it was his. Drawings of him that were in your notebook were now pinned up on the wall with tics, and you now realize there was no real bed, but just a mattress on the floor. A part of you wants to jump up and rip the old, trashy drawings you made of him off the wall, but you can't jump. Actually almost every movement makes your leg hurt so bad you want to cry out in pain, but you don't. Instead you stare at them along with his past projects he used to show you and you'd stupidly fawn over. I mean they were good, but he didn't deserve the praise (at least not now).

"Do you believe that Ranpo's intentions were to hurt you?" the interviewer asked leaning into the mic. You think and then look over to where your mom should've been, but she was gone. She got up and left covering her teary face, "No... I think he loved me..." you mumbled playing with your hands, "There were times where I felt it." a small smile form on your face.

"Are you hungry?" you heard his teasing sounding voice ask from up the stairs. You stare up at him as he peaks his head in, and you nod slightly. It was times like this where it was nice, he'd come in and feed you dishes he knew you liked while talking to you about his day at work. "I didn't want to leave you alone for too long so I've requested a leave of absence for" with finger quotes, " 'my mental health' "he rolls his eyes and scoops up another chunk of the rice, "Here comes the airplane" you state at him wide eyed, "Vrooom!" but you open your mouth anyways with a small smile, that doesn't go unnoticed.

"-but other times," your smile falls, "you can tell that his love was just purely an obsession. He was smart, but not human understanding smart."

"G-get off of me!" you yell, your good leg tries to kick him off, but to no avail he grabs it and stares at you from in between your legs. He smiles at you and yawns, "So boring, I didn't want to fight, just have a good time" you shake your head with blurred vision. He picks you up and plops you down on the mattress, that you now realize was elevated for "just being a mattress on the floor". He unbuttons his shirt with hand while the other works on his belt, and you can't help but just stare at him, you hated how attractive he still looked now, "Turned on?" you scoff a this question. "Don't worry, I don't blame you." he drags you by your legs closer to him, "Who wouldn't love a genius like myself?" he chuckles pushing your panties to the side. "R-Ranpo..." your hand reaches to grab his forearm, "Don't..." you plea. He kisses your hand and whispers, "I'll try to be gentle." Angeling his hips to face your entrance you can't help but lift up and take a peak at his cock, and it was nothing special; not so tame black hair, not very wide, slightly above average length (not that you had anything to compare it to), and little pearls of precum decorated the tip. "Like what you see?" he asks pushing you down, "Remember, this won't hurt if you behave." it hurts, and he gives you no time to adjust. You grips the sheetless mattress, biting your lips to suppress the groans and whimpers of pain from leaving. He's slow, at first, then he speeds it up angeling himself to hit you deeper. You can hear his heavy breaths, or maybe it was your own, he stares at you- not not at you, but your bra less torso, if it weren't for the large shirt on you he'd be able to see your bouncing tits. That doesn't stop your nipples from peaking out tho, you groan as his hands pinch your hard nubs, "Ah-" you shriek. 'Did he use his nails?' You can hear his giggles from between breaths, "You're... You're such a masochist." and maybe he was right, who would get turned on while getting raped an their nipples were being pinched. His hands leave your tits and move into your mons pubis, he massages the mass and you find yourself grinding against his hand with pleasure. You release small whimpers, it felt good, before he trails down to your clit, and it felt even better. "No-No. R-Ranp- stop." you felt ashamed. "Why?" he smirks, "I'm making it enjoyable for both of us. You shake your head, "No, p-please. I- I don't want to... fin-finish" he laughs, "What's wrong, never mmd yourself come before?" you get silent. It's not like this was on your radar, and like it was so easy. You just keep crying as he picks up his thrusting pace, "Am I- No. Am I going- going to make you cum for the first time?" he laughs, obnoxiously, "This can't- can't get any better!" Oh but the sensation could, it was all so overwhelming, his cock handled the emptiness you felt inside while he hand massaged your core. Your breathing picks until and your back arches, instinctively your mouth open and you let out a deep groan, your body tenses as you come on his cock. "How embarrassing, if you didn't want this, why did you finish before me?" he pouts, "How unfair!"

You're in between breaks and you decide to use the bathroom. You'll never admit this to anyone, but sometimes you miss how "not empty" Ranpo made you feel. Maybe he wasn't so bad, no, you wash this thoughts away as you splash some water on your face. Just before you reach for the knob you find your chest tensing before your crouch over the toilet, only bile came out. Walking out of the bathroom you realize you feel unwell and you can't continueile this, every step feels like you're not you, and it all feels like an out of body experience- or maybe you were being to selfaware, "M-mom..." you whisper, "I'm n-not feeling well," she nods and talks to your interviewer, her name was well out of your head at the moment. At home you rush to your room without saying a word, he stole 3 years of your life, you're a grown woman living with her mother and all you want to do is breakdown because you're a grown woman who can't leave the house without he mommy. You're a grown woman, yet you can't help but breakdown on the corner of your bed, "It's ok hun~" he coos placing a hand on your shoulder. No matter how much you hate him, Ranpo will always be apart of you, so you can't blame yourself for latching onto him and crying on his shoulder. Maybe running away wasn't for the best. If you had known how your life was outside of Ranpo's home you would've stayed, "Let's go home, hun." his voice is soft as he caresses your hair.

[ceasarslegion]

By the wishes of a few people, here's my advice post about living alone. Keep in mind I'm speaking from the perspective of a canadian urbanite, so this will not apply to absolutely everybody in every kind of culture, economy, living situation, those in rural areas, etc. This also is not assuming wealth disparities are a matter of personal attitude, i KNOW it's complicated. Get back with that shit right now, you know damn well this advice assumes you are able to achieve the financial means to live on your own and is not disparaging anyone who legitimately can't.

Let's cover the basics first.

Source of income:

This seems rather obvious, but your income should be regular and reliably the same or similar on a monthly basis. The most obvious way to achieve this is with a job, and I'm sorry but minimum wage is not going to cut it on your own anymore, which means you're going to have to swallow your pride and accept that you'll likely have to work for some industry or corporation with a dodgy moral record. Get used to it. There is no point in self-flagellation, the world is complicated, just take the 50-60k a year office job, no one actually expects you not to and nobody will hold it against you when the "moral" option is soul-crushing retail. The real world really doesn't give a shit what you have to do to afford a comfortable lifestyle as long as you do what good you can within your abilities, no one in the real world expects you to sacrifice your own wellbeing for a cause.

Salaried positions are your most reliable because you'll always pull the same amount, while hourly pay comes with the ability to pull overtime pay in exchange for more shifts, but if you run out of sick days you'll have to spend the rest of the year taking unpaid time off when you need to call in. Whichever one you choose depends on what's available to you and what's right for you physically and mentally, I can't make that call for you.

You also need a credit card. That is non-negotiable. If you don't have a credit score, you can't sign a lease. Bad credit is better than no credit. We can argue until the cows come home whether or not credit scores are good or bad, but it's just reality that you're going to need one. The good news is it's fairly easy to build credit from no credit: you just have to pay off your credit card in full on time every time. The bad news is it's equally as easy to tank your credit score, you just have to miss one or pay it too late, and it's very hard to build good credit back from bad credit. So don't see it as free money, only spend as much as you can pay back, and if you don't have credit right now, start with small things like lunch and little treats that you immediately pay off.

Looking for a place to live:

Once you have your regular and reliable source of income, you can start looking for your place. There's a few things you should keep in mind:

-Draw up a budget for how much you can spend on rent and bills. That includes all basic living expenses: rent, utilities, food, internet, phone, hygiene. Compare how much you make per month to what you can spend. 1/3 to 1/2 of your salary is a bit more realistic to expect to spend on rent alone nowadays, so work within that range when you apartment hunt. Think of everything when you're budgeting, like how much do you spend on haircuts per month? You probably didn't think of that, because I didn't either at first.

-Apartment buildings with some/all utilities included often have higher base rents. You have to keep in mind that this is so the landlord can balance out the utility bills of the whole building, which are unpredictable expenses and on them to pay every month. If you don't know how to budget yet or don't know how to do so with unpredictable bills, I highly recommend trying to find a place with utilities included so you know EXACTLY how much you'll need to pay every month and can plan in advance

-Older buildings tend to be both cheaper and more likely to have centralized utility systems, which means they have to include it in the price of rent because there's no way to tell who used how much of something. If it's your first place alone, you'll probably be tempted to get the brand new, expensive building down the road, but it won't actually make much of a difference when you move in. You will love it regardless.

-Never ever sign a lease until you've either seen THE unit you're considering, or one of the show units that is exactly the same layout. The last thing you want is to go off online photos only to move in and find out the building has a mold problem. You can arrange personal tours by contacting the building manager or the landlord directly. Phone calls are the best way to do this.

-If you want the unit after seeing it, you know you can afford it, there's nothing funny about the place, apply IMMEDIATELY. Places are usually on the market for a few days before they're snapped up by a new tenant, you have to strike while the iron's hot.

-If you've decided on the place you want and had your application accepted, read the lease carefully before you sign. Many places require tenant insurance that meet specific policy requirements, have registration rules about long-term guests, outline how the parking works, quiet hours, smoking rules, mail, laundry, all the way down to what kind of barbecues are allowed on your deck in the case of mine (I am in a wildfire danger zone, so any types that produce embers are strictly prohibited for fire safety reasons). Ask any question that comes to mind about the lease. Not everything in a lease is some human rights violation just because you don't like landlords, keep in mind you're living in the same building as dozens of other people, so there has to be ground rules established for everyone's sanity.

-Internet is often not considered a utility so you'll have a hard time finding any place that includes it. You can arrange to have your wifi set up in advance of a moving date on a specific time and date, do this right after you sign a lease so you don't forget. They won't charge you until you're actually hooked up to the network.

-If your utilities are NOT included, get those set up in advance too. The main ones are HVAC, water, and electricity. The companies that do this vary depending on where you live and what's available, so shop around online once you've signed your lease and sign up as soon as possible. The last thing you want is to forget this and then move into a dark freezing apartment with no water.

Budgeting:

After your living expenses are covered, you should have a comfortable amount of financial wiggle room leftover. If you wouldn't, the place you're looking at is either too expensive, or you're being overcharged elsewhere. It's completely normal for living expenses to take up most of your budget these days, you're doing just fine in the same boat as everybody else if that's the case, so don't panic yet. If you have absolutely NOTHING leftover though, then you're out of your price range.

You also need to set money aside for fun and saving. Do not forego fun money, your brain will try to kill you with hammers and knives if you never get or do things for yourself. And if you're on your own, you're the only one providing that for yourself now. And a solid building base of savings will only help you in the future, whether you lose your job, have an emergency, or even need a down payment on a house later in life. Don't be a doomer about your circumstances or the socioeconomic and generational cards that were dealt to you, chip away at it a little at a time. And don't fall for social media's insistence that anybody with anything at all is some bourgeois degenerate or that being fortunate enough to be able to have upward mobility makes you some ultra wealthy shithead, working towards a comfortable standard of living for yourself does not make you a rich elite or a bad person. You're working towards the standard we should all live as, not exploiting the poor or being a class traitor. I feel the need to add that last part since we're on the website of "struggling art students in NYC are bourgeois that are just bad with money and having a gaming computer makes you upper middle class." Don't listen to a word any of those people say, I know it comes from a place of very real hurt and pain for them but that doesn't make it grounded in absolute reality for absolutely everybody.

Social needs:

If you're by yourself, there's gonna be a lot more work you have to put in for your social and entertainment needs. I can not stress enough how important it is to give this the time and work it needs, do not neglect this.

Lots of libraries have clubs you can join that will get you out of the house and meeting new people regularly. They're either free or very inexpensive. This is a great place to start.

Take advantage of technology we have now. Hop on discord calls more frequently, make sure you're talking to your friends on the regular and try to make plans as much as you can.

Also, I advise finding lots of things you can do by yourself. You will be spending way more time alone than you ever have before, so find single-person hobbies. Go thrifting, get into knitting, go explore the city, read lots of books, do puzzles, just don't lock yourself inside all day in your free time. Even if you're doing it alone, going out and seeing that the world is bigger than your apartment and your workplace is very good for you.

Misc advice:

You don't need a conventional coffee pot maker. Single serving will suit you just fine.

Cleaning is easier when you have a routine. It doesn't all have to be done on the same day of the week, but having a regular schedule of what gets cleaned when for non-daily chores will help you keep on top of it. And please, god, don't neglect your cleaning and hygiene just because no one lives with you to see it. On that note, spray bottle all purpose cleaners are your best friend for daily spot cleaning and you should deep clean your washroom around every 2 weeks in my experience since that's where you'll be doing most of your personal hygiene. Also make your damn bed, yes you'll just get back into it at the end of the day but having a major part of your space neat and tidy will do wonders for your mental health.

Don't buy the cheap garbage bags. Some things you really do want the expensive shit for.

If you don't have a car, delivery service/rideshare subscriptions ARE worth it and legitimately economical in the long run. I do wanna circle back to square one and say that yes, most of them like prime and uber do have dodgy moral records, but sometimes you just gotta swallow your pride and accept that. Once again, no one in the real world expects you to spend your entire day on public transit looking for toilet paper that isnt 30 dollars a pack or lugging 50 pounds of groceries back on a bus just for a cause. It's not the fault of someone who needs these services for their quality of life that they do the things they do, don't put that responsibility on your or other's shoulders when the fault lies at the top of the corporate ladder.

When you're budgeting for living expenses, expect your income to be at the lowest and your expenses to be at the highest. I expect 2 call ins per month and to need to spend the max amount i have on groceries every time, that way I never fall short and never have to cut into my savings that I've dubbed my "oh shit, I'm broke" money. Your emergency reserve may look tempting to you, but as someone who has been in a position where they had to drain it to nothing in the past because of an unforeseen financial emergency, you REALLY are gonna want that untouched if and when shit hits the fan. Life is unpredictable, prepare to roll with the punches so they don't knock you out.

A few people wanted to be tagged in this, so here you go @lilsnatch and @kisstheashes <3

[pointpilot]

Untitled Labru Fic

synopsis: laios indulges kabru in his childhood country bumpkin lifestyle. laios is a freak AND kabru learns something about himself

word cont: 935

inspired by my post here

-

“Did you know you can eat these, Kabru?”

Securing his hands around the base of a branch and a leaf which it was tethered to, a rip was heard as he took the leaf into his delicate hand. 

“I supposed I didn’t.” Kabru replied, attentive eyes following the rich green leaf now in front of him. He noticed the fronds had a sort of peach fuzz to them as they caught themselves in the orangey-blue sky. “These are called Winauk leaves, they come from Winauk trees. I’d be careful with eating them all the time, though.” Laios aimlessly waved the leaf around.

“Why?” Kabru queeried, arms folded as he lay his back against this tree. Before looking up at Laios, he admired the open field they relaxed in, tall grass swaying whichever way in the wind while rays of heat gently tingled their skin. 

“Invasive beetles from the Eastern Archipelago are known to carry fungi that infest the leaves. If you eat this leaf with the fungi present, you could get a really bad disease.” 

Laios threw the leaf in his mouth. 

Dumbass!!! Then why would you eat it!?

Kabru screamed in his mind, he then started to say this aloud, but his words came out like this:

“Oh, is that safe to eat then?” He asked with a gentle smile of concern, pointing to Laios’ mouth as he obnoxiously chewed, the blond sitting himself next to him. “I’ve eaten these so much as a child that I can taste the difference. Want one? I’ll taste test it for you!” He gestured his hand towards the branches of the tree. “I promise they’re really good. Almost minty.”

Kabru had an ultimatum. Keep a friendly, albeit flirty relationship with Laios to continue to truly see how his crazy-ass ticked, or get a disease and die. Truly, he was interested in Laios’ history and how it shaped him into the person he is now. Which is why he went out into the vast rural lands of Melini with him to indulge in Laios’ former rural lifestyle. Kabru knew how much he missed his homeland, and used this as an apt opportunity to become closer to him, while also being curious as to what this entailed. 

“I’ll try a leaf.” Kabru forcefully beamed, splaying his palm out so a Winauk leaf could be placed in that empty space. Laios beamed back, rushing up to grab a leaf for Kabru. In all honesty it was quite adorable how excited Laios became introducing Kabru to his former lifestyle. Oh well, it is what it is. If he truly did get sick, Falin could work her magic. 

-----

The next day, Kabru surprisingly didn’t become severely ill and die. Today he walked beside Laios in one of Melini’s many produce fairs. This was the norm for any rural type of area anywhere, and Laios was just geeked to see it. 

Many farmers had their best produce up for sale, beautiful vegetables, fruits, and even monster foods such as basilisk eggs and mimic claws to name a few. Kabru clutched Laios’ flushed arm harder once he saw a sign indicating harpy eggs were for sale, though.  

As they continued to walk through the colorfully vibrant fair, Laios saw something in particular that piqued his interest. 

“Kabru, look! I’d love for you to try these!” Kabru curiously picked his head up from his melting exorcism sorbet, dripping onto his fingers. He opted to just get rid of it as he was getting tired of the sorbet, chucking it in the nearest trash bin. 

By the time he turned around to what Laios was pointing at, his face scrunched and contorted in a way he thought he never could. But only Laios could make him do that.

WILD ANTS AND CRICKETS

No.

Dear goodness no.

This was nowhere near treasure bugs. Monsters had a sort of magical feel to them, a feel that separated them from regular, everyday insects that didn’t feed off of mana, but fed off of the disgusting dung and sediment of the earth.

Kabru’s resolve broke.

“I’m sorry Laios, but—”

Laios had the most joyous expression on his face, placing an order for two small bags of (thankfully) dead crickets and ants. He held them in his hands and beamed towards Kabru. “Falin and I would go out and eat these all the time! Personally my favorite is cheddar crickets, but these’ll do.” 

And just like that, Kabru realized something.

Laios would probably never have an opportunity like this again. He chose Kabru to come with him not only because he cared, but because deep in his heart he knew Kabru was the only person that’d willingly indulge in his fun activities. 

Kabru also didn’t want Laios’ fond memories of them together to be fabricated all for the sake of studying him. 

He genuinely enjoyed Laios’ company, no matter how crazy he was. 

He enjoyed walking barefoot in the tall grass while being surrounded by Winauk trees, he enjoyed how Laios would take him to secret vibrant strawberry patches, and especially enjoyed playing with village dogs together, running with the dogs in wide, open fields.

He obviously despised eating potentially diseased leaves and right now, didn’t even want to look at an insect.

But in a world where resurrection is common, he could die over and over for Laios and deem each of those deaths worth it. It wasn’t like he hasn’t died numerous times already. The only difference now is that he’d die a million times with purpose.

“I’ll eat both.” Kabru gave Laios a closed eyed grin. 

Kabru threw up the insects five minutes later.

[cowboyjen68]

Do the Republicans in your area give you any grief about being butch?

The first day my girlfriend (at the time) and I moved into our new house in rural Iowa in 1999 we ran a rainbow flag under our American Flag up the shiny new pole my dad and I installed in the front yard. (complete with a light to shine on them at night).

I have been in my home over 24 years and have not experienced any issues at all. I am pretty well known in my community from the Post Master to the Feed Store to the local shops in nearby towns and I only get greeted with "hi" or "good morning".

I work at a farm, I shop at the locker and raw dairy and small town hardware store. I eat at the breakfast cafe in the County seat . I have helped more that one idiot get their truck unstuck from the mud on the B level road next to my pasture.

I actually have no idea where any of my neighbors stand politically and really, it doesn't matter. When one of them needs help with something I am there and when it is time to put up my hay, Kevin from next door is always on hand to help. He takes Red's Apple Ale as payment for his time.

Perhaps it is because we are only 20 minutes from Cedar Rapids and 40 from Iowa City. Maybe because over the years I am just regular site and just one of the locals. I am no threat to their beliefs because I don't care to tell others how to feel and think about my presence in the community. The best gifts I given myself has been to be a good neighbor and customer, confident in who I am, a lesbian and butch woman and to smile and say "hello" when I am out and about.

I am sure it is a combination of being very lucky, living in just the right place and my personality.

There is no way they don't know I am a lesbian. I continue to hang up the rainbow flag in June, a labrys flag in May and one look at me is a dead giveaway with or without noticing my rainbow necklace. My social media is often tagged Iowa so I show up on the feeds of lots of people who don't know me but see me in public and say they follow me.

Iowa, the area of Iowa, I occupy is pretty much a live and let live mind set. No one wants to be told what to think. People appreciate others showing up to help and no one brings up politics during small talks or casual conversations with strangers in line at the DMV.

When the subject has come up or during election season (which seems very often in Iowa) every conversation I have had with others is respectful even in disagreement. I don't get worked up with I see the flaws in the politics of others. It is an argument I can't win if they are going off of false pretense and their minds are firm. So I don't spend the energy unless they really want to listen, which does happen. In turn I listen to them. Listening shows respect but there is no expectation of mind changing.

[tina-mairin-goldstein]

Hannibal Dash Simulator Season 2

🔍iwishididn'thaveatwin reblogged

🐈‍⬛team-sassy-science

Me and @ autopsyguy going to get some drinks after work.

@ teamsassyscience Why wasn't I invited? And who took that picture?

13 notes

#friends #who i will forgive for not inviting me drinking this one time

🌸flowers-in-bloom reblogged

I know this is a stretch, but has anyone seen my dog? He keeps running away and I haven't gotten the chance to microchip him because of this. If you see him, he answers to Winston, and my address is on his collar (he's the one on the upper left, this is the only picture I have).

🌸flowers-in-bloom

Never mind. I found him. Thank you to everyone who tried to help. He is now microchipped.

🌸flowers-in-bloom

Winston ran away again. The microchip is not 100% accurate, so please, if you see him, let me know. I'm afraid he might get hit by a car or attacked by a wild animal.

821 notes

#dogs #dog #missing dog

🔍iwishididn'thaveatwin

Okay, something happened at work, and I am currently OBSESSED. Just have to share this with you guys. This article is the best. I set up the link, so just click the picture.

174 notes

#bees #apiary #honey production

🔥Sponsored

_________Verger Meat Packaging

Fresh, high-quality meat. Perfect for any occasion. Pork, beef, and chicken from a variety of breeds, available for all budgets. Professionally raised on one of the oldest farms in the state.

------------------------------Learn More

0 notes

🍷are-we-not-made-in-his-image

Petition to save local songbird habit from complete destruction

Local Baltimore City Council Sheldon Isley brokered a deal several years ago to turn the habit of endangered songbirds into a parking lot. Recently, there have been discussions going on further developing what little remains of these birds' home. More information and links below the cut.

_______________________Keep Reading

7,843 notes

#birds #petition #songbirds #wildlife #baltimore

🐎animal-lover12233

4 notes

🦅lonesome-hawk reblogged lonesome-hawk

Just LOOK at him.

🦅lonesome-hawk

Yes, I know he's on trial for murder. But if you had been following the trial like I have, you would know he's being framed. Now shut up and leave me alone. I'm disabling comments.

843 notes

🌸flowers-in-bloom

😶‍🌫️Anonymous asked:

Aren't those @ dogsandflyfishing's dogs?

Yes, they are. I am taking care of them for him while he is unable to.

2 notes

#ask answered

📸tattlecrime-official

Coming soon!

The REAL story of Will Graham and how his peculiar mind works, and how he was tragically framed to be the infamous Chesapeake Ripper.

Click on the links below to subscribe to TattleCrime.com for official updates and exclusive snippets.

-------------------------------Keep Reading

365 notes

#tattlecrime #official story #will graham

🐻prehistoric-predator

I'm partial to the Cave Bear myself, but a Dire Wolf is also a good choice. Before you vote, I've got some studies and info in the link below and some general information so you can make informed decision.

I'm curious to see what you guys think; I'm having to make a really tough decision right now.

Reblog for larger sample size

_______________________Keep Reading

69 notes

#cave bear #dire wolf #poll #polls #my poll

🐕dogsandflyfishing reblogged

🍷are-we-not-made-in-his-image

Lomo Saltado

Recipe below cut.

_______________________Keep Reading

37 notes

#recipe #cooking #lomo saltado

🐕dogsandflyingfishing

Everyone who is asking about Buster in the last picture I put up, he is okay. He got on the wrong side of a wild animal, which happens from to time when you live in a rural area. He needed stitches, but he will be fine. Stop accusing me of mistreating my dogs.

12 notes

#ask answered

😷autopsyguy

I've been going through a hard time lately. A friend of mine recently passed, @ teamsassyscience, and I've been thinking about her a lot. Two other friends of mine, @ dogsandflyfishing and @ flowers-in-bloom, along with my boss, are currently in the hospital and things don't look good. I'm really worried

Not what any of you wanted to hear, but I just needed to vent and didn't know where else to do it.

Here's to Beverly, and hoping that Will, Alana, and Jack pull through.

73 notes

📸tattlecrime-official

EXCLUSIVE!

A Red Dinner

Today, the entire city of Baltimore was rocked by the shocking revelation that renowned psychiatrist, Dr. Hannibal Lecter, is indeed the true Chesapeake Ripper. According to sources, Lecter very nearly took the lives of three people, and killed a third. Will Graham, once accused himself of being the Ripper. Dr. Alana Bloom, his lover. And Special Agent Jack Crawford of the FBI, a man Lecter has worked with closely in recent months. The one victim who was DOA is reportedly none other than Abigail Hobbs, who has been assumed murdered for months now, previously by none other than Will Graham. And what's more, it turns out he isn't just a serial killer, he is a cannibal as well.

Click Here for the rest of the story on TattleCrime.com

7,651 notes

#tattlecrime #official #hannibal the cannibal

[licorice-tea]

When The Tide Comes Out

Pairing: Portgas D. Ace x reader

Content: angst, fluff, h/c kind of… also kissing😽

Word Count: 1.1k

A/N: first time writing about Ace!! also i LOVE orville peck and this scenario just fit perfectly with this part of his song, “Blush”! Ace is so like… cowboy adjacent, too, so i think this kind of music is fitting for him! please enjoy and lmk what you think <3

There’s something ‘bout men that I don’t understand

You never would know how Ace did it. The constant solo traveling, having to find a new place to sleep every night, and not knowing where home is. Because, well, his home is a ship. He’s brave and responsible enough to take care of himself- you know that much- but still…

It’s a lifestyle that makes no sense to you.

On the other hand, you’ve never been one to stray far from home. You prefer to stay on your island, only going on the occasional vacation with family or friends. Still, you’ll always know where to come back to when the fun is over. And even then; you’re surrounded by people who carry the same feeling of comfort as your bed would.

Ace doesn’t have that. And he doesn’t seem to need it, either. He races around the globe in search of revenge. He calls it justice, but when you see the fire in his eyes- normally so full of warmth and comfort- you’re confused. It’s a scary look, one that you’d hate to ever see directed towards yourself. But, Ace could never direct such rage toward you. He barely gets to see you, why waste any time on bitter feelings?

Yet, he always leaves you. You’ve opened your door to him countless times; told him he was welcome to stay for as long as he wants. And every time, he chooses to leave after a night or two.

They’re always leaving wherever they’ve been

For what must be the hundredth time, you walk Ace to your front gate. You live in a nice rural area near the beach, and your front yard has its own garden and fish pond. It’s picturesque, and a home that most people (couples, specifically) could only dream of owning someday.

He hugs you tightly, burying his face in your hair with no shame.

“I miss you already.”

“Then stay.”

Ace shakes his head, surely messing up your styling, before he pulls back to face you. “You know I can’t.”

A thought tries to escape your mind, but your lips press together after a second thought. His hands brush a strand from your cheek- and you let him for a moment- but then you catch his wrist. “But you can, Ace.”

Brush it off with a shrug, I don’t know much about love

He sighs and a wince passes over his features; as if he’s in pain. “Let’s not do this right now, baby, please.”

“Don’t you baby me, Ace. You leave me alone for months on end and- and what? I’m supposed to just be content with seeing you for a few weeks out of the whole year?”

“… I’m sorry, I really am.”

This time, you’re the one to sigh and shake your head with a pained expression. “No it’s… I know what you’re doing is important to you.”

“But you’re important to me, too. You’re where home is.” The sentiment squeezes your heart- it feels like it’s about to burst.

“I know.” You try and offer a smile, so at least your last few moments together for god knows how log will be happy ones.

He laughs dryly at your obviously forced smile. Ace feels like he’s failing you, in all honesty, with no solution or viable compromise that will suit both his career as a pirate and the love he wishes to continue growing with you. “I’m not doing too great at this, am I?”

“You’re doing your best.” You pull him back in for another hug, and whisper against him. “I love you, Ace.”

He smiles into your neck. “I love you too.”

Still I give it a try now and then

You’re the first one to let go, pushing him away gently. “Go, before I try and stop you.”

His smile is strained, yet still bright and handsome. “I’ll come back sooner next time, okay?”

“You better. Or else I might have to find a replacement.”

Ace laughs and you giggle along with him. “Nah, I’m not too worried about that.” He presses a sweet kiss into your lips. “I mean it though. I want to make this work, and I want to be here with you.”

This time around, your smile is more genuine. “Then I can’t wait.”

Your hands turn his hips away from you as you playfully push him out the gate and toward the beach. “Now go so you can hurry back!”

The two of you laugh as you run down to where his raft is stationed on the shoreline.

Saddle up and ride on down

“You have my vivre card?”

“Mhm,” you pull it out of your pocket, “and you have mine?”

Ace lifts his hat to show you the card stitched onto it. “Always.”

He pushes the small boat out of the sand, and it floats in place. It’s powered by his own devil fruit, so there’s no concern of it drifting away without its owner. Who, as he turns back to you, gives you a look of longing. After a moment his face moves closer to yours, so you’re both smiling softly and nearly connected at the lips. Ace grips your waist and kisses you. It’s more passionate this time, and full of all the love and desire he has for you that he can fit into one action.

You huff in amusement. “Be safe.”

Ace nods. “I will.”

Maybe when the tide comes out

With reluctance, Ace releases his hold on your sides and wades in the shallow water. First he throws his bag on it, then lifts himself onto the deck of the Striker.

You wave goodbye, and he waves back. Theres a halo of sunlight cast from behind his dark curls and broad shoulders. Then, with a few sparks so as to get further from you and not accidentally burn you, the Striker moves further into the rising water. The realization that it’s high tide washes over you much like the waves themselves. You’re soaked up to your knees by now, but it’s no matter. You would swim across the whole ocean if only to get closer to him.

Ace and the Striker grow smaller and smaller in the distance, but you can still see his arm waving high in the air. You wave back with equal zeal, hopping up and down. His shouts of “I love you!” and “I’ll see you soon!” grow quieter, so you’re not even entirely sure when he stops.

Eventually, once he’s out of your field of vision, you turn back. You walk the same path up the beach- 2 pairs of footsteps still visible in the sand from your trip down to the shore just moments before.

Without your lover’s laughter in your ears, the creak of the gate is nearly deafening.

[useless-catalanfacts]

bon dia!! I'm moving to Catalunya this fall to be an English teacher's assistant and I'm so so excited to learn catalan and explore your beautiful country 💗 Do you have any recommendations for places or activities around the Lleida región? Moltes gràcies ☺️

Bon dia!

In Lleida (the city itself), the most iconic site to visit is the Seu Vella (old cathedral). It's a Medieval cathedral that was also used as a stronghold in war in the Early Modern Period. It's located on top of a hill, so there's great views of the whole city from there.

(Photo)

A natural place: the Congost de Mont-rebei (Mont-rebei Canyon). This is the river that is used as the administrative dividing line between Catalonia on East and Aragon in the West (La Franja). It's a very beautiful place, but I don't know what it's like now with the drought. There's a very nice walk near the La Pertusa chapel and in an excavated part of the rock walls so you can see the river. Many people also go kayaking or similar things but I don't know if there's enough water now. (For context, we're having a very bad drought, it has barely rained in 3 years and all the reservoirs are practically empty).

(Photo 1 / Photo 2)

In spring, it's also very pretty to see the fruit tree fields around Lleida. The most popular town to go to is Aitona, but you can also see it in Seròs, Alcarràs, Torres de Segre, and others.

(Photo)

Some historical small towns near Lleida that are nice to visit include Vallbona de les Monges with its Medieval monastery, and the towns around the Riucorb river (I would recommend the town Guimerà, and also Verdú to visit its tower), Montfalcó Murallat is also nice but very small. For a bigger town: Cervera. It's interesting to see the university building in Cervera, when Philip V (Spanish king who conquered Catalonia in 1714) made all the universities in Catalonia, Valencia, Mallorca and Aragon close down, he only allowed 1 university, which he moved to Cervera because it was a city where many people had supported him in the war and because it was in a rural area so he could closely control the students (university students in Barcelona and other places had been very involved in the war against Philip V).

(Photo 1: Santa Maria de Vallbona monastery. Photo 2: Guimerà)

An archaeological site: Fortalesa dels Vilars in Arbeca. This was a fortress inhabited between 775 and 300 BC, you can visit the archaeological site and the museum with the objects found. Arbeca is also famous for its olives (called arbequines), definitively worth a try 😋🫒 you'll find them in most markets and supermarkets.

(Photo)

If you're near, when it comes to archaeology, there are also some prehistorical rock art sites. The most well-known in the area is the wall La roca dels moros in Cogul.

(Photo 1)

Those are the places I'd recommend closest to Lleida. If you can move more, I also really recommend going up to the Pyrenees mountains (in the north of the Lleida province). There's lots of Medieval architecture there, lots of cute villages and some wonderful natural parks.

The bad thing about the Lleida area is that it doesn't have as good public transport as more densely populated areas, because outside of Lleida city itself it's very rural. So you might have to rely on cars.

Another activity in Lleida: the most famous food from there is snails, there are different recipes, the most widespread is caragols a la llauna, but they also serve them with allioli or with vinaigrette. There's also many other delicious foods, but that is what most people associate with Lleida the most.

Aaand that's what comes to mind in the areas near Lleida. I'm not from that province so I don't know it as well as other areas, if someone reading this has more recommendations please feel free to add them in the reblogs or comments.

I hope you enjoy your time in Catalonia!

[midwestbramble]

Foraging in Witchcraft

I'm a big fan of working with the land, and one of the easiest ways to do so is by gathering your own plants. This is also free! No having to stop at an occult/metaphysical shop to pick up that random plant you forgot you needed. I will be making individual posts on different plants that can be foraged in my own bioregion, but first we should go over a few tips and housekeeping notes about foraging and witchcraft.

⸙༄𓆤𓆩𓆪❁𓇢𓆸🏵

Contents:

Natural Isn't Always Safe

Laws and Foraging

Invasive vs. Native vs. Naturalized

Animistic Foraging

Conclusion

⸙༄𓆤𓆩𓆪❁𓇢𓆸🏵

Natural Isn't Always Safe

First thing I want to get out of the way is that not everything you find outside is going to be safe to put in your body or even touch. On top of that, not everything that is safe for someone else is going to be safe for you. We each have different bodies and how we react to something will not always be the same. When you first start foraging, it's important to have a guide book that will tell you of any safety measures to take when dealing with a plant. Some will interact with medications in ways that are not healthy, some have fluid that can make your skin photosensitive, and some... some people are just allergic to.

When it comes to medications, you can find contraindications (when not to ingest something) with a quick google search of "[plant name] contraindications." Generally this will give you a safe answer, however always check with your doctor if you are unsure. Better to pay for a consultation than a hospital visit.

Some risks come from the environment that the plant grew in. If you are foraging near train tracks or buildings that could leach lead into the soil, the plants will pick that up as well. Contaminated soil and pesticides sprayed onto the plants can also lead to health risks. Be very mindful of where you are foraging.

Some plants that are safe will also have toxic look-alikes. A famous look-alike is wild carrot and poison hemlock (thank you Oregon Trail video game). Unless you know what characteristics you are looking for, it's very easy to confuse the two plants. One is a delicious snack, while the other is highly toxic (the poison hemlock), to the point of causing muscle death and kidney failure. This isn't to scare you away from foraging. Only to drive home the importance of making sure you know what you are gathering.

*credit to the Minnesota Department of Agriculture

⸙༄𓆤𓆩𓆪❁𓇢𓆸🏵

Laws and Foraging

I am a resident of the United States so these will be more geared towards that country. It would be to your benefit to look into the foraging laws of your own country/state anyway, as it can still differ. The majority of states in America prohibit foraging on public lands, which makes it really hard for those who don't own their own property. If you live in Alaska and Hawaii, however, congratulations your local government allows it. Even among those states that do allow it, there can be designated areas where it's not allowed such as a nature preserve. Breaking these laws tends to come with a hefty fine and possible jail time, if caught. Though these laws are hard to find with a quick google search, especially for a specific area.

The laws in the United States prohibiting foraging are generally colonial, imperial, classist, and racist (surprise, surprise). Foraging was protected by law well into the 1800s (except for Native Americans who were pushed off their ancestral hunting and gathering grounds), even when doing so on another person's private property. After the Civil War, many newly-freed African-Americans would sell their foraged and hunted goods for an income, while also using the practice to become self-sufficient. The southern plantation owners needed this system to go away so they could chain what used to be their "property" to their old line of enslaved work. Starting with criminal trespass laws. Eventually anti-foraging laws spread to the average white rural American. Outside elites began to believe that the "backwards" people of the countryside, who made a subsistence living off the practice of foraging, fishing and hunting, could not be trusted with the stewardship of the land; using "conservation" as a way to "protect" it from the people who lived there (Linnekin, "Food Law Gone Wild: The Law of Foraging" p.1008-1014).

I do believe we need to protect our resources and lands. However, foraging can be regulated, not outright outlawed as it is. Learning about the plants and animals that live around us and can help us in our lives, leads us to learn more deeply about their role in the environment and just WHY we should protect them...

All this to say, look into your local foraging laws (and how local law enforcement actually enforces them, if they do at all) and then you can decide if you want to follow them or not. At your own risk.

⸙༄𓆤𓆩𓆪❁𓇢𓆸🏵

Invasive vs. Native vs. Naturalized

There is a lot of talk in foraging communities about invasives vs. natives. Sometimes even bringing in naturalized plants. So let's talk a little bit about what these words mean in ecology and how this may effect your foraging habits.

Invasive and naturalized plants have one thing in common; they are both transplanted outside their natural ecosystem. A plant that is invasive in one place, can be naturalized in another. What matters is the impact the plant has on the ecosystem it has been transplanted into.

Invasive =  plants or animals that harm regional ecosystems.

Naturalized = plants that have successfully established and reproduced in a new environment, integrating into their new home without inflicting ecological harm.

To make things a bit more complicated, let's introduce the 10% rule. According to the Huron River Watershed Council, "the '10% rule' postulates that of all species introduced to a region outside of their native range, only 10% will survive to reproduce in their adopted environment. This 10% of non-native survivors are often called 'naturalized' plants. Of that 10%, another 10% (or 1% of the original non-native transplants) may thrive to such an extent that they dominant their new home, out competing their native neighbors. These prolific competitors are known as invasive species."

So what makes a native plant? The US Forest Service defines a native plant as "plants [that] are indigenous terrestrial and aquatic species that have evolved and occur naturally in a particular region, ecosystem, and habitat. Species native to North America are generally recognized as those occurring on the continent prior to European settlement."

Some native species can be endangered due to habitat loss from agriculture and/or competing invasive species. It's good to have a list (many state DNR (Department of Natural Resources) will have a list available on their website) printed so you know which ones should be cultivated in your garden if you wish to work with them. Avoiding these and working with invasive species can help with conservation efforts as well. Native species can still be worked with in the wild if they are not endangered.

⸙༄𓆤𓆩𓆪❁𓇢𓆸🏵

Animistic Foraging

You'll often see witches giving advice about asking the plants permission before harvesting. This is from the belief that the plant has a spirit, an animistic belief. Asking permission to harvest isn't the only way we can forage mindfully and with respect to the plant. The way that I do this is by following the Honorable Harvest set out by Robin Wall Kimmerer (a Potawatomi botanist, and the director of the Center for Native Peoples and the Environment at the State University of New York College of Environmental Science and Forestry) in her book "Braiding Sweetgrass."

Know the ways of the ones who take care of you, so you may take care of them.

Introduce yourself. Be accountable as the one who comes asking for life.

Ask permission before taking and abide by the answer.

Never take the first, never take the last.

Take only what you need.

Take only what is given.

Never take more than half. Leave some for others.

Harvest in a way that minimizes harm.

Use it respectfully. Never waste what you have taken.

Share.

Give thanks for what you have been given.

Give a gift in reciprocity for what you have been given.

Sustain the ones who sustain you and the earth will last forever.

The first rule really helps you to follow the rest of them. Know the plant. Walk by it several times, offer water even if you aren't taking something, say hello. These plants are our neighbors and when we harvest we are asking for their help.

⸙༄𓆤𓆩𓆪❁𓇢𓆸🏵

Conclusion

Each plant will have it's own method of harvest to minimize the harm done to it. Some you have to pull the whole thing up, but there are ways to repopulate it. It's so individual that I couldn't add it to this post. Hopefully what's written here can help you keep a few things in mind when going out and learning about your local flora.

Foraging can be a great way to connect with your land and learn about it. Getting your hands dirty and making you feel as if you are a part of the landscape. Hopefully the first couple of sections didn't scare you off. Get a couple of good guidebooks for your region (the local library is a good place to start) and you're good to get out there and start identifying plants you want to work with!