#last time we lost power was the middle of the winter

[sleidog]

an updoot, 1 of the 3 new guppies suddenly passed away today after happily swimming yesterday, and the only change was a water change yesterday before we got the new fish 🤔 checked the local areas fish keepers and everyone has been losing well established fish to whatever our water board did, some have taken to using a mix of tap and distilled water to try and mitigate the loss but thats not accessible to us, our last cobra guppy also looks to be struggling suddenly as well

i think we'll just have to avoid water changes for the next while and remove a lot of the hides so we can keep more on top of cleaning the tank which is unfortunate but its also easier to keep an eye on and count the fish :')

edit: water is still treated by us and other keepers by the way in case that wasn't clear, but the levels are just so high the aqua safe doesn't even touch it

found out from the aquarium near here that had an absolutely sudden catastrophic loss of fish and crustaceans [mainly shrimp, literally a whole shrimp colony] that our local waterboard is flushing the pipes with more ammonia than they should be, so the normal water treatments people in my county have been doing for years has actually not been good enough to remove all of the additives in the water because its at 'unusually high' levels 😔 i was wondering why two of our guppies seemed to just disappear quietly after a water change, at least the rest seem happy and healthy, but the hyper vigilence is setting in now and i will be STARING at all of our fish and shrimp to make sure they're okay

[eretzyisrael]

by Douglas Murray

By early 1948, when Israel was on the cusp of becoming a state, she was known for being a powerful orator—someone who could articulate clearly and plainly why Jewish self-determination was so important. But she was not well-known in America.

In January of that year, Meir, who was then the head of the Jewish Agency, traveled to the United States to raise money in preparation for Israel’s war of independence. (The Jews knew the UN might give them the green light, but the Arabs would not.)

She had not planned to go to Chicago, but while in New York City, her sister Clara persuaded her to go—to speak to the annual conference of the Council of Jewish Federations and Welfare Funds.

Meir arrived in Chicago in the middle of a freezing cold winter “without a dime in her pocketbook even to take a taxi.” Wealthy and influential Jews in Chicago were not especially keen on meeting with her. As Henry Montor, the executive vice president of the United Jewish Appeal, a Zionist organization, recalled, Meir was, to his mind, “an impecunious, unimportant representative, a schnorrer—Yiddish for beggar or layabout.

Meir, for her part, was terrified. On the one hand, she knew that war in the Middle East was imminent, and she had no choice but to bring home money for much-needed weapons—or there wouldn’t be any Israel. On the other hand, she understood all too well that there was, among some upper-crust American Jews, a wariness of the idea of a Jewish state—a desire, often unstated, not to appear too Jewish.

In any event, Montor managed to carve out a little time for Meir to speak at the Council’s luncheon on January 25, 1948, at the Sheraton.

She later recalled: “I was terribly afraid of going to these people who didn’t know me from Adam. I admit I was shaking. I had no idea what was going to happen.”

But providence, or something like it, called her that day. And the effect was historic. The audience was on its feet immediately after she finished. Her goal had been to raise $25 million in America. She came away with $50 million—aid that would prove critical in the months ahead.

According to those present, Meir went to the stage with her hair severely parted, absolutely no makeup, and with no notes to speak from—her preferred habit. The pauses in her speech seem to have been as important as the words themselves. She seemed to be feeling the words, weighing up the words, and judging, by the second, their effect on her audience.

She spoke for some 35 minutes. 

Friends was the term she chose to address her audience. 

“The mufti and his people have declared war upon us,” she said. “We have no alternative but. . . to fight for our lives.” 

She told the audience about the thirty-five Jews who “fought to the very end” on the road to Kfar Etzion and of the last one killed. He had run out of ammunition but died with a stone in his hand, prepared to continue fighting.

And she paraphrased the famous words of Winston Churchill: “We will fight in the Negev and will fight in Galilee and will fight on the outskirts of Jerusalem until the very end.”

She added: “I want you to believe me when I say that I came on this special mission to the United States today not to save 700,000 Jews. During the last few years the Jewish people lost six million Jews, and it would be audacity on our part to worry the Jewish people throughout the world because a few hundred thousand more Jews were in danger. That is not the issue.”

The issue, she explained, “is that if these 700,000 Jews in Palestine can remain alive, then the Jewish people, as such, is alive and Jewish independence is assured. If these 700,000 people are killed off, then for many centuries, we are through with this dream of a Jewish people and a Jewish homeland.”

This was the spirit—the moral vision—that compelled Golda Meir, like so many Israelis after her, to do what other people thought could not be done. 

[celestiall0tus]

Lady and the Scoundrel - Chapter 11 - The Scoundrel

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            Lady sat atop Big Ben in the middle of the day as she looked down at the city. She had spent the last week waiting for the scoundrel to appear. She worried she wouldn’t see him at all during her break. This was the only time she’d be able to encounter him. If he didn’t show up at all during the winter holiday, she wasn’t sure what she would do.

            For everything that has happened, Lady felt this was her only chance. It didn’t matter how many people she helped, how many petty criminals she stopped, none of that truly mattered. So long as she found this scoundrel and stopped him, she’d prove she was good. She’d prove that as Lady, she can finally be a true hero. That Lady can save the day where Queen Bee ruined everything.

            Lady’s ears perked up as she heard distant explosions followed by alarms. She leapt from Big Ben and dashed towards the source. She paused on a nearby building as she summoned her bow. She knelt and took aim. She watched people in masks poured out from the hole blasted in the wall. She squinted as the smoke cleared and she saw the scoundrel. She took a deep breath, aimed, and released the arrow. The arrow soared through the sky and nicked the scoundrel on the shoulder.

            Lady stood and released a volley of arrows on the scoundrel. She watched him dodge most of the arrows before he saw her. She backpedaled as she used her power to create a construct in her image. She hid nearby as her construct continued to shoot off endless volleys. He leapt up with his arms reared back to attack. She shot an arrow at his hands that grazed him and got him to drop his weapon.

            Lady ran in and pinned down the scoundrel. He yowled and hissed as he fought her, until he looked at her. She frowned when she saw his pupils dilate, eyes widen, and jaw drop. She tsked and took aim.

            “It’s over, Scoundrel. You’ve lost. Whatever you have been doing ends here,” Lady announced.

            The Scoundrel blinked, then laughed. “Aww, isn’t that cute? You think I’ll stop so easily? You’ve got another thing coming your way, beautiful.”

            Lady furrowed her brows. She opened her mouth to speak when the Scoundrel kicked out her legs. She rolled over and got to her feet as he ran up to the ledge. He winked at her before he leapt over the edge. She growled and ran up the edge to see him running away. She ran along the rooftops as she chased him. He turned back and blew a kiss her way before he picked up speed. She panicked as he slipped further away. She couldn’t let him get away.

            Lady took a deep breath and summoned one of Barkk’s special arrows that would coat an entire block in a thick fog. She hesitated for a moment for those that breathe it in would fall in love with the next person they saw. Barkk didn’t specify what kind of love, but she hoped it wasn’t romantic love. She leapt up in the air and notched the arrow. She watched the Scoundrel’s movements before she released the arrow. It soared through the air to where he was going to be and hit him. The arrow erupted into a thick pink fog.

            Lady landed on the ground and ran into the fog. She searched through it for the Scoundrel, but she didn’t see his black outfit amidst the pink. Fear crept up in her as she searched around several times by the time the fog let up. Her stomach fell as she didn’t see any sign of the Scoundrel. She rushed off the scene of the robbery to find the cops had all arrived. The chief was amongst them, and he flagged her down.

            “Little Lady! How was the hunt?” the Chief asked.

            “I lost him, but I have his scent,” Lady admitted.

            “Good. Shame you lost him, but thanks to your efforts, we captured the robbers.”

            Lady’s ears perked up. “You… you did?”

            “We did. We’ll be taking them in for questioning. Would you follow us as we get them to the station? I don’t want to take any risks of that cat showing up.”

            Lady nodded as her tail wagged. “Yeah! I mean, yeah. I can do that.”

            The Chief tipped his hat to Lady before he got in his car. She waited a moment for the other cops to get in their cars and drive off. She followed them as she dashed along with rooftops. She saw them to the station before she headed back to the Graham de Vanily home. She de-transformed and stepped inside. She stopped to see Amelie and Memoria watching the breaking news coverage of her fight with the Scoundrel.

            “Oh, Chloe! You’re back. Take a look at that!” Amelie cheered.

            “Uh, it looks like a dog hero fighting that cat villain,” Chloe remarked.

            “I know! Isn’t it exciting? I admit, I had considered taking the field when I saw him, but then I thought about all my other responsibilities, and I couldn’t add being a hero to that. So, I’m glad that someone else is taking that responsibility.”

            Chloe gave a tired chuckle when the door slammed. They all turned to see Felix had returned. He stormed past them with his eyes shut. He pushed past Chloe and shot her a look before he continued and turned a corner.

            “My, I wonder what’s gotten to him. I should go check on him,” Amelie said.

            Amelie left and Chloe sat beside Memoria.

            “So, how’d I do?” Chloe asked.

            Memoria smiled and hugged Chloe. “You did great.”

            “I hope so. But… I’m worried.”

            “What happened? May I see?”

            Chloe nodded and bowed her head. Memoria pressed her forehead to Chloe’s and witnessed the battle from Chloe’s eyes. She hummed as she moved away.

            “Curious look in his eyes,” Memoria whispered.

            “You don’t think he… you know?”

            “I’m not sure. I’ve seen that look on so many faces for so many different reasons. I cannot say for certain what were the implications.”

            “What do I do?”

            “Play it by ear. And if he does something that you’re uncomfortable with, shut him down. However, if you see an opportunity to get him to stop, see if you can work with him to make him simmer down.”

            “Is that even possible?”

            Memoria hummed and looked at Chloe. “Why don’t you tell me?”

            Chloe opened her mouth, then shut it and looked away. “I’ll… I’ll try.”

            Memoria smiled and hugged Chloe. “That’s all we can ask for. But if he doesn’t listen and you feel in genuine danger, please don’t hesitate to get me involved. Ok?”

            “I will. I promise.”

            “Thank you. Good luck out there.”

            “Thank you. I’m going to need it.”

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[loyaltykask]

Chapter 32

@journeythroughjourneytothewest

So by chapter 32 imma say that they are like three years together at this point, or at least 2 and a half since it is spring again and Sanzang met Wukong in like Fall/Winter.

So love that it is a thing that Wukong know the heart suntra more than Sanzang and he can take it to heart even more

It is impressive that here Wukong is actaully talking about custody and arrests rather than straight-up murder. Either he changed his tune and is willing to go the extra mile to arrest demons but I think that kinda neat that he knows the legislation of which jurisdiction is overseeing what kind of demons

Guy: They want to eat you Wukong: okay but like.... how?

WUKONG WANTS TO KNOW

Wukong DEADASS YOU ARE A BLESSING

HE knows how he wanna dies

Wukong: I love my sanity sometime last year when we got the pig so like..... just point me in the right direction bub

Wukong: These idiot, don't they know I'm me

Wukong just can't relate

Wukong: Let's see I'll have Bajie go up and fight. He if wins, he wins! If he loses I can save him and rub it in his face! Win-win!

HE REALLY SAID FUCK BAJIE RIGHTS

NOOOOO

HE FAKE CRYING THIS BITCH

SELL THE HORSE AND BUY SANZANG A COFFIN BAJIE DAMN

WUKONG COMES CRYING AND HE PANICS

Tells everyone GO HOME WE LOST BEFORE WE EVEN BEGUN

HE SO WORRIED HE SO CONCERNED

I just just SEE Wukong fucking smirking that he now get to boss around Bajie and Wujing. Wujing deadass standing there like "oh no the power has gone to his head" AND IT HAS SANZANG fell for the crying hook, line, and sinker

Sanzang: Listen to you big brother Wukong: Yeah porky listen to me

He gives Bajietwo choices 1. stay with the master and WHEN you fail you will be beaten or 2. go 'patrol' the mountain ie. go lure the monsters out

Sanzang: stop laughing at your brother Wukong: hehehehohoho Funny Piggy going to get

Wukong: I'm going to go spy on him Sanzang: just please.... don't mess with him Wukong: No promises

These are bully Bajie hours now

OOOO HE CALLED HIS A DODDERING, THE BIMAWEN, AND A SISSY

THIS LITTLE SHIT BE TALKING SHIT

Wukong tuns into a woodpecker to bite him

I think this like the ONLY time I've seen Wukong attack in a transformed form

Damn Bajie have some self respect

HE IS HAVING SO MUCH FUCKING FUN

GOOD FOR HIM

I can't tell.... if Sanzang is saying that Bajie is too stupid to lie and that he just can't see it.... or if he really thinks Wukong likes messing with Bajie enough to get him in trouble on purpose

He just happy he gets to scold the other for once, revenge never tasted more

GBSUKGNSIOEGNSOIENGS "You can beat him later, we in the middle of something right now"

WUKONG DOES NOT CARE PLEASE

NOW BAJIE SCARED THAT EVERYTHING IS WRONG ON HIS PATH HE SO WORRIED

It's funny how these demons find out about Sanzang. Like the heavenly beasts or people just KNOW Sanzang is the Golden Cicada because that was just that some hot gossip. And normal demons just hear either from the grape vines or other demons but deadass these fallen celestials are like 90% of the reason I think everyone knows about Sanzang

LIKE THESE GUYS EVEN HAVE WANTED POSTERS OF THESE GUYS

WHO MADES THESE?!

A common trait of Bajie is that he tries to hide his snout a lot during the journey, he tries to hide it in his chest/shirt like 4 times already. Kinda sad actaully how he wants to hide

Instead of yo mama jokes, they have 'im you daddy now' jokes in 200 AD China

Love that it is acknowledged that Bajie COULD have taken on Silver Horn one-on-one but he got overwhelmed with numbers. Poor guy...

[tumorhead]

RIP Piper the Cat, 2006-2024

Life details below

This is the first cat that I've been the one to care for that has died, and the first cat in general I'd been around for the death of. She died simply from old age, so she wasn't in distress at the end, just getting sleepy and slow. She had been quickly deteriorating for several days and had stopped eating (I have been crying SOOO much) and we finally called the mobile vet so she could be put to sleep, and she went peacefully at home in my arms. These last few days she got to enjoy lots of outside time in the summer sun lying in the cool grass- all off her leash too since her mobility was so reduced. She got to be around a bunch of our friends all weekend too- she loved to be near everyone.

We got her 10 years ago when we had a "friend" move in - he had been neglecting her badly (I was SO PISSED at him!!) so when he left we kept her. She was underweight and had permanent nerve damage in her ears from untreated ear mites, as well as kidney issues. I was able to fatten her up and get her into good health. But in the last few years she's been properly elderly (she got thin, started losing her ability to jump) and we knew her time would be soon.

She had the smarts and the stealth of a high level rogue. Her black color made her impossible to see in the dark, and she knew when to wait patiently for an opportunity (to escape or steal food). Often though this just meant she got stepped on (dammit Piper!!). She escaped 2 times right when her previous owner left, a few days each time. She found her way back 🙌 Recently she got out for a few hours and I only found out when I heard her meowing from OUTSIDE. babygirl you coulda gotten hurt 😭

She loved boxes and would get into empty ones immediately. When she was younger she was a renowned shoulder cat. She used to be able to jump from the floor to my husband's shoulders (a good 6 feet). She'd try to get on your shoulders any chance she got, like if you bent over. As she aged she slowly lost her jumping ability which was so sad to see, we got her some step stools and were helping her up a lot.

Our other cats, half her age, had differing opinions- Mo the boy would be sweet on her and play with her very gently (he's huge and muscular and she was always small and frail but he knew to not wrestle her). Piper would chase him around in return. (in March we were building Ikea furniture and Piper got so hyped at the fun boxes that she BODYSLAMMED Mo it was so funny). Mo is gonna be sad about Piper being gone.

Sweatpants, Mo's sister, HATED Piper. She took 5 years to tolerate being anywhere close to her, lots of hissing and smacking. Rude at the old lady!! At the end though she left Piper alone at least.

Piper was the only cat I've ever had that LOVED being held especially in the winter. One time I strained my shoulders because I held her for 2 hours. She would beg to be picked up. She would get in your lap and would even lay on my husband's arms while he was actively using his computer. She didn't care that you needed your arms to do stuff.

She liked to sleep in a box on my desk while I worked. I crocheted her a little wool blanket for her box with my scrap blanket yarn (pictured above). She is now buried in it 💔. She liked to look at art (????).

She was very social and loved to hang out with everyone. She would yowl and bring toys trying to get us to come out of hiding if she thought people were gone. Usually we were just SLEEPING though, lol she was soooo loud.

She was almost entirely fearless. Barring street traffic and going to weird places she gave 0 fucks. She used to be an indoor/outdoor cat so she got bored stuck inside our house. In her search for new stimuli she would get into the middle of EVERYTHING you were doing. Doesn't matter if you were actively using power tools or moving heavy furniture - she would get in the way. She didn't even mind the vacuum! When my other cats ran away in fear of sounds or whatever she wouldn't budge. Couldn't be bothered.

A few years ago I got her trained on a harness and leash to let her get outside again. She begrudged the harness but took to it immediately anyway and loved it. She would CONSTANTLY beg to go outside. She begrudged the boundaries (no you can't go in the woodchuck hole, no you can't stick your nose in the cactus, no its below freezing outside today) but she loved chasing chipmunks and eating grass (was very fond of the prairie dropseed in particular). I am so happy that she departed during warm weather- I was worried she'd go in winter and not get to enjoy one last springtime.

She would only eat ONE kind of dry cat food even though wet food was always also available. We eventually found out she loves milkfat and grease so she got lots of treats of butter & cheese & hamburger & bacon. Because she was so thin these the last few years it helped keep weight on her. she CAN haz cheezburger! This made her even more annoying about getting into people food lol.

In November our friend moved in with us because she was dealing with a nasty divorce and got kicked out of her condo. She moved into our spare room, which was Piper's little exclusive territory. Luckily my friend likes cats and accepted her "roommate". She immediately doated on her soooo much. She got Piper special healthy treats and they became best friends- Piper even put on some weight from the treats! (We found the "too many treats" limit at one point lol). I'm so glad Piper got even more attention in her last few months. (When my friend paid attention to the other cats she felt like she was "cheating on Piper"). My friend saw a lot of herself in the cat. She has helped me a ton in dealing with Piper's last days and I appreciate it so much. My friend even said she wished she'd moved in sooner to have gotten more time with the cat.

Piper was disgusting, she puked up grass often, she was LOUD (she'd meow for things and if she didn't think you heard her she'd look you in the eye and yell louder), she'd find things to rattle (food dish, door) to demand food. She would escape into the basement (not allowed!) and get into the crawlspace and come back covered in spiderwebs. She'd yowl sooooo much at night, the most annoying. She'd get into food left out. She was an obnoxious little gremlin !!! and we loved her anyway.

I knew when we took her in that she'd be the one to teach me about death, as I am an unexperienced idiot when it comes to that. Putting her in the ground felt so weird and hurt so much, but now I know about that sort of thing. I am thankful for that, and that I got to take care of her and give her a spoiled, pampered, comfortable life. I am thankful that I was able to see her go peacefully, and that she trusted us with her final days.

I have buried her in our yard in one of my perennial flower beds, under the big beech tree. She will live on with us through the garden, becoming flowers and trees, which I think is the best kind of afterlife. That way it feels like she's still with us. I am glad she has impacted several other people and we are all crying about her. Thank you Piper for coming into my life. Everyone loved you so much. Rest in peace old lady. I love you.

[gillie266]

Yeein' On That 'Haw Ch. 1-- Private Property

Remember that old movie from the late 90s about those weird film students who wandered into the woods like idiots looking for a witch? And the two guys totally took advantage of that to kill that girl dead? I think it was ‘the blunt witch project’ or something like that. That’s probably not it. That sounds like a sketchy old lady weed dealer. Blunt Witch. Maybe once I finally retire to the middle of bumfuck nowhere and wind up living in an alley somewhere I should start a weed-dealing business and call it Blunt Witch. Man, local businesses should hire me. 

Well, maybe if I wasn’t in the middle of the goddamn woods like those weird film students I would have had a better chance at getting hired for my clearly genius business ideas. It was kinda gross in the woods. I kept getting bitten by mosquitos. It was wet and sticky everywhere I went! Even the bush I dove into after seeing a grasshopper was moist! 

The mosquitos would probably have been less of a problem if it was fall or winter. But no, of course I had to go bigfoot-hunting at the beginning of spring, when the mosquitos were actively making more mosquitos. Don’t ask why I have an in-depth knowledge of when mosquitos fuck, you pick things up over the years. 

Microscopic mating aside, I was in the middle of the woods and I felt like I was going in circles. I kept seeing the same weirdly pink trees everywhere I went. Now that I think about it, why was the foliage around there pink? Maybe because they hadn’t shed their Valentine’s Day decorations yet. Whatever, not my problem. But yeah, I was absolutely going in circles. I know that because someone carved the word ‘crungus’ into a tree and I kept seeing it. Unless Little Billy was following me and carving the word ‘crungus’ into all of the trees while my back was turned. 

…Now that I think about it, that was definitely a possibility. Pint-sized prick. 

I had hardly noticed what time it was. The sun had just begun to set, casting a golden hue onto my surroundings. Once I did notice the time, I heaved an exasperated sigh. I would have to sleep in the woods again. Last time wasn’t fun. I still have the swan bite scars. I can’t believe they found me all the way out there… vengeful bastards. 

But there was no way I was getting back to town before nightfall at this rate. I had already been lost for hours, and it didn’t seem like I was making any progress. So I chose a different direction other than the one I had been walking in for hours straight to see if I could find a suitable clearing to hunker down for the night in. I probably passed like seven suitable clearings, but I was completely spaced out, if I’m being honest.  

The sun had sunk low in the sky before I finally snapped out of my half-conscious haze. There was a brief flicker of yellow in my vision. Civilization! Or a nuclear power plant. It was one of the two. I’d take anything at this point. 

I charged through the thinning trees, and when I finally breached the treeline, I was immensely disappointed. The yellow I saw was nothing more than a caution sign. Several caution signs, actually. Most bearing threatening warnings such as ‘I shoot on sight’ and ‘stay away.’ One was just a mediocre drawing of a piss-yellow shotgun plastered onto a tree. 

But there, amidst the slew of warning signs, was my saving grace. A shack. Hell yeah. The thing was covered in moss and mold and was probably infested with raccoons. It also had menacing, apocalypse-esque scrawlings along the walls and ceilings. One that stood out to me was ‘many eyes, always watching.’ People didn’t have eyes here– c’mon, mysterious sign-writer, get a grip. We have optical sensors here.

I shrugged. Hey, how bad could it be? This shack had probably been abandoned for decades now. There may have even been pre-dialup relics buried in there! I wasn’t gonna pass that up. 

The warning signs and paranoid writing were completely ignored as I approached the shack. The steps up to the porch creaked under my weight. As I closed the distance between myself and the shack’s front door, I could have sworn I heard panicked footsteps coming from inside the building. It’s probably the raccoons. I tried the handle. Locked. I prepared myself before ramming my shoulder full-force into the door. Dull pain echoed throughout my arm, stemming from my certainly now-bruised shoulder. Despite my relatively wimpy stature, I made a sizable dent in the wood. Okay, two more and I would be golden. And covered in splinters, but some sacrifices must be made. 

It was then that I heard something clattering on the floor from beyond the door. I briefly paused but shook off my confusion before slamming into the wood once more. I made a bit more progress but winced when I felt that pain again, pulling back and using my other hand to gently press down on my shoulder in an attempt to soothe it. 

Just as I was about to break down the door, a rather concerning sound made me freeze. Something that sounded awfully like the cocking of a shotgun. 

Oh, shit. 

I yelped as the door flung open with a force strong enough to crack loudly. The next thing I knew, I was staring down the barrel of a shotgun close enough to see the scratch marks on its frame. 

My adrenaline spiked, and I frantically ducked to the side, narrowly avoiding the bullet that fired from the firearm’s barrel. The motion caused me to stumble and bend my ankle, sending me crashing onto the rotting wood of the porch. On pure instinct, I turned my aching body and rolled about a foot to my left. And thank whoever was watching that I decided to do that, since another bullet fired a hole right in the wood where my head was not a second prior. 

As much as I’d like to say that I handled that situation like a badass and kicked my attacker in the nards… Well, that would be a bold-faced lie. Instead of that, I screamed like a complete and utter puss. My voice was muffled in my own sound-processors, and it was then that I noticed the high-pitched ringing. I should have expected that– there were two bullets fired right next to my sound-processors. And I have phone tinnitus.

I didn’t think I could dodge another bullet, so I defaulted to my second instinct: pleading for my life. My voice sounded foreign. It was terrified– animalistic, even. “Wait! Wait-wait! Hang on a second!” I lifted my hands to cover my head, pulling my knees upward in a desperate attempt to get some sort of protection. 

My attacker must have sympathized with my cowardice because they halted their shooting to listen to me. After a moment, I lowered my hands from my head to get a good look at this probably psychopath. 

He was tall. And I’m not just saying that because I was on the ground and looking up. This guy was probably a good few inches above six feet tall. The best thing I could compare his build to was a stereotypical plumber– he had that staple midlife crisis body. Round torso, beefy arms– all beneath an… astronaut training suit? Where the hell did this guy get an astronaut training suit? 

Not only that, but he had a paper bag over his head. With a sticky note plastered onto it. And the sticky note had a face drawn onto it. A pissed-off-looking face. I couldn’t help but question the logistics behind that. Did he always wear this pissy bag-face, or did he put that on when I showed up? 

And why was he wearing a cowboy hat? What was with this guy’s fashion sense? I really did feel like I was looking at a video game character. And he was pointing a shotgun at my head. Phone-gods, what a nightmare. Not phone-gods. Regular gods. This place was getting to me. 

But I had to take this opportunity. I tried not to let my confusion show in my body language and took a deep breath, swallowing the growing lump in my throat. I didn’t notice how much my hands were shaking. “Okay. Listen. I’m sorry for bashing your door in. But it was locked. I had to get in somehow.”

I sucked in a sharp breath when I felt the shotgun’s barrel press just above my dial. Then a slightly muffled, mildly annoyed voice emitted from beyond the paper bag. “This is private property, pardner. O’course the door would be locked.”

And he had a country accent? This guy checked all the boxes for a stereotypical yeehaw-man. I don’t know what I was expecting. 

I swallowed before responding to his clarification. “...Riiiight. Well, how was I supposed to know this was anything but an abandoned shack?” 

The yeehaw-man reached into his pocket, causing me to flinch instinctively when he took one of his hands off of the shotgun. He retrieved a different sticky note, which he used to replace the one that was already plastered onto the paper bag. This one had a different face drawn onto it– one that was less pissed, more annoyed. He used his hand to gesture widely at our surroundings. At the warning signs. At the huge yellow piece of paper pasted to the wall next to us that said in bright black letters ‘PRIVATE PROPERTY.’

I grimaced. 

He returned his attention to me, pressing the shotgun somehow harder above my dial. “Gimme one good reason why I shouldn’t shoot ya dead right ‘ere.” 

I hesitated. Honestly, I could hardly think of anything myself. If I were in his position, I would shoot me too. But I had to say something. “Uhh… because you would have to clean up my remains? And… it would be a waste of good ammunition?” 

The space cowboy froze, tilting his head slightly to the side as if scrutinizing my appearance. When he spoke again, his tone had softened slightly to something more inquisitive than murderous. “Huh. I suppose yer right.” 

I deflated in relief when he lowered his firearm, lifting it so he could hold it close to his chest. I laid there for a moment, still processing what had just happened, before performing a frustrated gesture with my arms. “Well, aren’t you going to help me up?”

His response was quick and straight to the point. “Absolutely not.”

“Alright, fair enough,” I groaned in discomfort as I pushed myself to my feet. Yep, he was definitely well above six feet tall. Scary bastard. We stood in silence for a moment while I brushed off the dirt-stained knees of my pants.

“Are you gon’ tell me why you decided it was a good idea t’ intrude on my private property?” The man before me broke the silence, inflection flat and… almost bored. 

I narrowed my metaphorical eyes at him, although I doubted he could see it, considering he had a bag on his head. Wait, how did he know where to aim with that gun of his? Did he have slits in the bag that I just hadn’t noticed? I shook off that question so I could effectively answer his. “Uh… well, to be honest, I was bigfoot hunting–”

“Bigfoot huntin’? That thing ain’t real, pardner.” His words were insistent. 

If I could frown, I would have at that moment. “You never know. Where do you think the tracks come from?” 

He swapped out his sticky note again for a more confused one. It was an… awkward pause in the conversation. “...Other animals. Maybe an escaped ape from th’ Dialtown zoo.”

“Animals don’t escape from the Dialtown zoo, man. Not since… the incident.” I shuddered. 

“Alright then, we agree. Bigfoot ain’t real. Continue.” His voice carried an air of finality that I didn’t feel like arguing with at the moment, so I simply sighed and moved on. 

“...But yeah, I got lost, and it eventually got too late to get back to town. So I was gonna look around for a nice little clearing to set up for the night in, and whaddya know! A shack.” I shrugged. “You can’t blame me for feeling relieved and wanting to get up in there, right?”

“Relieved ‘nough t’ ignore the signs tellin’ ya that I shoot on sight?” The yeehaw man asked flatly. I shrugged. “Well, yeah. I didn’t want to spend the night in a bush. You’d do the same thing.”

He sighed, removing one hand from his shotgun to lift it to his head, where he dragged his hand down the length of the paper bag. I furrowed my nonexistent brows at that. Normally people around here don’t do that since, well, they have technology for heads. 

“Well, now ya know that I’m not acceptin’ visitors. Or guests. Go on, git.” He returned both hands to his firearm, using it to gesture away from the area. I turned, appalled. “You can’t just kick me to the curb! Or… forest.” I paused before shaking my phone head in disbelief. “I’m desperate here, man. Let me stay here, just for the night.” 

All of a sudden, I was staring down the barrel of a shotgun once more. My optical sensors widened as my gaze flickered between certain death and the man before me. He spoke once more, his voice louder and more insistent. “I told ya t’ git. ‘Less ya feel like eatin’ some lead.” 

I visibly deflated. I had almost resigned myself to sleeping in a tree for the night. Almost. I slowly turned to leave, watching the man do the same, before pausing and turning back around. “Just one quick question.”

He audibly groaned and frustratedly turned back around to face me. “If I answer this question o’ yers, will ya leave me the hell alone?” 

I frantically nodded. I had to learn more about this guy. Maybe if I figured out a good talking point, I could eventually convince him to let me inside. “What’s with the bag?” 

I must have touched a nerve because he immediately tensed, his grip on the shotgun tightening to the point that his knuckles turned white. “And what in tarnation makes ya think I’d answer that question?” 

“...Because I’ll leave if you do?” My voice was quiet and inquiring. I knew I was toeing the line of being alive… and pumped full of lead. 

The cowboy-hat-wearing menace sighed reluctantly before answering in a low, hesitant voice. “I ‘ave a head. A regular head.”

I tilted my own, red rotary head. “Regular…?” 

He made a frustrated, helpless gesture with his hands. “That’s right, clueless trespasser. A regular head. One with a face. And eyes and ears n’ such.” 

What the fuck was he talking about? I hadn’t seen a real flesh-head since… well… a while ago. I didn’t think they existed anymore. I… can’t even remember her face. 

I fell into confused silence. He must have sensed my confusion, because he sighed heavily. “I answered yer question. Now git.” He pointed firmly over my shoulder. 

“Waaaaait…” I drawled, holding up a finger to shut him up. “You’re a normie? Living all the way out here? What for? I would have thought you would be a celebrity in Dialtown.” I paused, leaning forward curiously. “...You are from Dialtown, right?”

The man before me tentatively folded his arms, tucking the shotgun under his arm. “I was,” he mumbled indignantly. I gave an intrigued hum. “I see, I see, well, why don’t you tell me all about it.” I reached out to pat his arm, which he swiftly pulled away from. But he didn’t aim a firearm at my head this time. 

“C’monnn, you gotta be lonely out here, right? A little human interaction never hurt anyone.” I gestured to my scrawny form. “And if we’re being honest with ourselves, what harm can I do?” 

He stared at me. Okay, now I was getting a little nervous. This guy was a little more than threatening; he had the silhouette of a pear. A guy like that can make someone nervous. 

I heard a resigned sigh emanate from behind the bag. “Fine. Y’don’t talk, y’don’t touch anything, and y’ especially don’t touch me. If y’do, I’ll ensure that yer belly get’s chock full o’ lead.”

An excited squeak left my speaker as he turned to gesture toward the still-open door. I practically skipped inside and was… immediately disappointed. I don’t know what I was expecting from a dingy shack in the middle of the woods. It was cluttered, though not dirty, littered with old cigarette butts and crates full of non-perishables. There was a small shelf– if you could call it that– with a small collection of cowboy hats right next to a small, dust-stained cot. Again, what else could I have been expecting? 

The thing that grabbed my attention the most was the dartboard hung on the wall. Honestly, it was quite hilarious. It had a photo of Mayor Mingus taped to it. There were darts stuck in the board, most right on the photo’s face. 

“Man, someone really doesn’t like democratically elected representatives,” I said this knowing that Mingus was absolutely not elected democratically. It was so obvious that she rigged the ballot. But hey, what do I care?

“It’s not that,” the man said as he shut the door behind us, barring it with a long plank of wood that rested beside it. “She’s a goddamned, xenophobic varmint is what she is.” 

There was something about the pure hate in his voice that gave me pause. I turned to face him, folding my arms across my chest while he propped his shotgun up next to the door. “Xenophobic? I’ve heard a lot of things about Mayor Mingus, but that’s a first.” I tilted my head. “Care to explain, Mr…?” I made a vague gesture with my hand toward the man before me, prompting him to give me his name. 

“Sargent Norman G. Allen, pardner,” he shared his name with me after a brief hesitation. 

“That’s a mouthful. Can I call you Norm?” 

He tensed for a moment but ultimately sighed. “Fine.” He pointed an accusatory finger at me, and I leaned back slightly to counteract the movement. “But don’t get too used t’ it. Yer outta here by dawn.” 

“Hey! Don’t you wanna know my name?” I placed my hands on my hips as I watched Norm move across the room and toward a small counter across from me. 

“Not particularly,” he muttered. 

“(Y/N). Good to meet you, Norm.” I told him my name anyway. He had to refer to me somehow, and the whole ‘pardner’ thing was getting old real fast.

“...Right.” I wasn’t sure he had entirely processed what I had said. 

I shrugged, returning to my previous activity of looking around the room. I noticed the small table resting in the center of the room, and I pointed over my shoulder at it with my thumb. “Two chairs? I thought you didn’t accept guests.” I chuckled lightly. “Weren’t you going to tell me about your grudge toward the mayor?”

“It ain’t a–” Norm sighed before gesturing with an open palm toward the table. “It’s best if y’ take a seat. We’re gon’ be here a while.”

[autumn816]

can i send a mix of 3 instead😏 soulmate au + awful first meeting + green-eyed epiphany  

This wasn't probably what you were expecting from the prompt but we move. I did an actual scene for soulmate + awful first meeting but the green-eyed epiphany is written as a point. Enjoy 2.1k of this :)

—

“Remember, don’t say anything, don’t hear anything. You do your work and that’s it.”

George sighs. “I know, Alex. Just like I knew the last hundred times you told me.”

“Sorry,” Alex says. “I’m nervous. It’s a big day.”

“What is it, exactly?”

“It’s a Royalstrial. The prince doesn’t have a soulmate so the daughters of the elite Silver families, the High Houses, who don’t have a soulmate either or used to have one but do not anymore present themselves to the prince to be chosen as the next queen. The last time it happened was long before we were born. It was when Queen Luna was chosen.”

George scoffs. “‘Present themselves,’ really?”

Alex lifts his hands in surrender. “That’s what I was told but yeah, it doesn’t sound too good.”

“It’s bullshit.”

“I know. It’s the ways of the Silvers. What can we do?”

The rest of their journey is quiet. It’s George’s first day of work, too, at the palace. Alex had pulled some strings with the leader of his division and got him a job. Nothing George can do will ever show just how grateful he is to Alex.

George is amazed when he sees the palace, made of limestone and marble, for the first time. Alex has to rush him in so they have enough time to change into a red uniform before going to his, their, division. The leader, Aleera, as she likes to be called, speaks for ten minutes on etiquette and formality. Once she is done, a tray of an item is handed to everyone and all the workers are paraded to the Hall. 

George walks behind Alex, carefully holding onto his tray of glass cups. The wooden door appears ahead, carved with intricate designs. A guard opens it to let the line of workers walk through. 

The first thing George notices is the big chandelier hanging from the roof in the middle. That’s the thing that provides most of the light but there are lantern poles on the perimeter of the room. Round tables and velvet chairs are spaced evenly. On the opposite side is the royal area. Three seats, each one made of stone, lined on the stairs-led platform. The King is sitting in the middle, the Queen on his right and the Prince on his left. 

He is so lost in his surroundings that he doesn’t notice a Sentinel until it’s too late. George holds his breath as the cups shake. A hand rests under his own hand while the other curves around the edge of the tray, steadying it.  

Heat runs through his veins. George barely refrains from the gasp that wants to force itself out. It’s a weird feeling. He has never felt it, even in the warmest summers. His body has always been cold. Ice around his bones, George always joked. It feels like water now. 

George gazes at the person to check if they feel it too. He stills when he notices who it is. It’s just his fate that he bumped into Sir Lewis Hamilton, the highest Sentinel. The most powerful Burner. 

Lewis seems to have the complete opposite. He looks like a chill ran through his veins, his body shivering as if he just went through the coldest winters. 

“I would like to apologise on his behalf, sir.”

Alex’s voice pulls him out of his trance. 

“It’s his first day.”

Lewis’ eyes flick towards Alex. “It’s alright.” The beautiful brown eyes are on him again. “But you ought to be more careful.”

George shivers at the deep voice. He has heard it before but it’s a different experience to hear it when the Silver is a few inches away from him. 

“I am so sorry,” George stutters. “I wasn’t looking. My sincerest apologies. I’ll be–”

“Sir.” A Sentinel comes up behind Lewis, interrupting the sad excuse that is George’s apology. “Prince Kvlyan is requesting you.”

Lewis nods, his eyes still on George, an unreadable expression on his face. “Let’s go.” He turns around and walks away, a final glance thrown towards George before he disappears into the crowd. 

“Seriously?”

George startles. He forgot that Alex was here. 

“You need to be careful.” Alex whispers angrily. “They’ll have your head for the smallest mistakes, George.”

“I know, I know. I’ll be more careful, I promise.”

Alex shakes his head. “Also, what the fuck was that?”

“Nothing,” George lies. Well, not really a lie. He just doesn’t know what that was. 

“He is the highest in the army ranks.” Alex reminds him as if he forgot. “He is out of bounds, George.”

George rolls his eyes. “Calm down. I’m not doing anything with him.”

He and Alex stick close for most of the time they are working. He doesn’t even notice how quickly the time passes. The servants scarce in the rooms, in case a family requires them. 

The Royalstrial is about to begin. The air pulses with tension and sensation. 

——

It’s the fifth entrance that makes George uneasy. He had watched in awe as the daughters of each of the four Houses showed their abilities. It was wonderful but now it’s anything but. 

George strokes his thumb over the number 64 on his wrist. A habit to calm himself down, knowing that his soulmate is somewhere out there. He still has yet to meet them. He wonders when he will. He is already 23. 

“Brielle, of House Williams,” yells the announcer. 

Brielle rises from where she is sitting, dressed in all black leather decorated with iron. All of her family members were on their feet, clapping and cheering. Even the king and queen show interest.

The iron studs on her jacket move, floating in the air before spiralling around her. 

She controls metal. George understands why he is uneasy. Since his accident with knives at the age of five, he has hated every metal. 

But that’s not all. Brielle doesn’t seem to be anywhere close to being done. Every metal in the room groans, coming to life. 

George digs his nails into his palms, his feet tapping on the floor. 

Metal pipes splinter from the floor and burst through the walls, flying up to Brielle. She twists them, making the sound of a crunch as they bend under her command. It’s when a pipe hits George on the head that he snaps. 

A chill explodes out of him. There’s a layer of frost over his skin—something so clear, so delicate. He feels it—he feels the coldness running through his body. It’s the most alive he has ever been in his entire life. 

Reality sinks in as murmurs and gasps echo. Brielle is staring at him already, her jaw clenched and her eyes wide. 

“Sorry,” George says, not understanding everything himself. “I–”

Brielle accepts his apology by pointing the metal blades at him and launching. 

George flings his hand out, a reaction to wanting to protect himself. Awaiting the pain of half a dozen blades piercing through his palms. Instead, another chill flows through each of his veins, consuming him. 

Ice blasts out of his hands and shapes around the blades. It drops to the floor, the ice breaking and the blades clattering. 

The temperature changes. Cold. Something George has always thrived in. 

His mouth falls open as he stares at his hands and wonders where that came from. He looks up to see all eyes on him—every Silver, every Red. Hundreds of shocked faces and some fearful ones too. It’s Lewis that George finds himself stuck on for some reason. 

“Sentinels.”

The king’s voice is sharp. The Sentinels line up at the base of the platform, waiting for another order. 

As a self-taught thief who has been in a lot of trouble, George knows when it’s time to run. Before the king can speak another word, George bolts, squeezing between the table and the wall. 

“Seize him!” 

He hears the footsteps of the Sentinels behind him but he doesn’t dare looking back. Nothing good comes from it. A flame comes in front of him. 

The room fills with chaos as the other Silvers try to get out of the way and rush out of the room. He takes that to his advantage. He pivots on his feet, only to see some of the Sentinels feet away. 

George raises his hands, scared. A long sheet of ice blows out, falling over the Sentinels and breaking off. 

Behind them, he catches Lewis with one hand towards him—George now knows where the flame came from—and the other hand pointing to his left.

George looks the same way to see Alex standing there.  

“Alex!” George panics, taking off towards his best mate. Alex isn’t too far away to not hear him. “Run.”

The Sentinels close the distance between them and Alex with every second. 

George brings his hands forth. Come on, come on, come on. Do something. I need you to do something right now. 

Spikes of ice rise from the floor between Alex and the Sentinels. 

“Ah!” A Sentinel screams as the icicle pierces through his foot and he drops to the floor. The others catch themselves and barely miss suffering the same fate. 

“Go!”

Alex finally breaks out of his shock and starts running towards him. “George!”

“No, Alex. Get out of here!”

His best mate doesn’t listen until gunfire explodes over his head and Alex is forced to escape through the door. 

Please, not him. Not him, not him, not him, George chants in his mind. 

George almost makes it to the door when two Sentinels step in front of him. George drops to his knees on the smooth floor, sliding himself between the two. He is quick to jump on his feet and run again, making it out of the room as well. 

He takes a left since he knows the stairs are that way. His heartbeat races. He is scared for Alex more than himself. Please be okay. Please be okay. 

George skids to a stop, slamming into Lewis as he appears out of nowhere.

“Stop running away.” Lewis presses him against the wall, caging him in. 

George flattens his palms against Lewis’ chest to shove him away but the Silver captures his hands and presses them on each side of his head. Something must have thrown him off because Lewis’ eyes widened. His grip loosens just enough for George to push him away and escape once again. 

His hands automatically lift up—another blast of ice. Lewis composes himself and shields himself with his fire. 

George expects the fire to melt the ice. Instead, the fire cracks the ice, exploding it. The small pieces rain over them and the upcoming Sentinels, their armour protecting them. George doesn’t have the same protection but he doesn’t need it because the hail moulds itself into his skin without any pain. 

Another shot of fire heads his way. He accidentally conjures up a wall of ice. It takes the heat of the fire and vaporises. The water hisses as it splashes. George jumps away, barely escaping being burned. 

“George.”

Alex’s voice reaches his ears. A Sentinel holds his best mate by his neck. His face bloodied. Every fight in George drains. 

“Alex.” He takes a step when fire circles around him. Ice hovers over George’s hand. 

At the same instant, Lewis forms a ball of fire in his hand. “Stand down or I will light this boy on fire in front of you.” 

“No!” George shouts. “Don’t hurt him.” 

“Then I suggest you stand down.”

George looks at Alex, fear surrounding his best mate in a way he has never before. 

Alex tries to put on a brave face for George. “Don’t.”

The Sentinel tightens his arm around Alex’s neck. Alex chokes. 

“Stop!” The ice deforms. George lowers his hands, dropping his arms to his side.

Lewis looks over his shoulders, giving a nod. The guard loosens his hold. 

The fire increases in height, almost reaching up to George’s waist. He stares as Lewis walks closer to him, the ring parting to let him pass by before closing again. 

It turns from a deep red to an orange-yellow. George’s normally cold skin warms up to a point where, he considers, it will melt right off his bones. Smoke surrounds them, strong and black. George coughs, his vision spinning. 

“Sebastian.”

George’s eyes fleet to a new man standing behind Lewis. The water in his eyes must be playing tricks on him because he thinks he sees an ‘I’m sorry’ being mouthed. His eyelids suddenly grow heavier. He staggers forward into Lewis, his hands clutching around the Silver’s shoulders. 

“George!” Alex exclaims. 

Arms wrap behind his knees and shoulders before hoisting him up. It’s the last thing George feels. 

—

This was the original idea but I had to change things for this prompt.

The society is divided by blood- red or silver. Reds are considered the commoners, the ones that are inferior and working for Silvers. Silvers are basically considered elite because of their power abilities. There are common Silvers and then royal Silvers.

There are also Newbloods. They are the ones with red blood but powers like Silvers. Newbloods are more powerful than Silvers, having either unique abilities or stronger versions of their Silver counterparts. And Newbloods can create and manipulate powers while Silvers can only manipulate. They are very rare and seen as a threat. 

Both Lewis and George are Newblood. 

Soulmates: Reds have Reds soulmates, Silvers have Silvers, Newbloods have Newbloods. Silvers soulmates will have the same powers but Newbloods soulmates have different powers hence gewis with fire and ice powers. There is also a matched number which was 64 for gewis. Lewis figures out George is his soulmate when he sees the number on his wrist. 

George joins a rebellious group that wants an equality between Reds and Silvers. Lewis is already part of that group so they work together. 

Green-eyed epiphany: This is when they are working together. George doesn’t know Lewis is his soulmate. He is in love with Lewis but he hasn’t realised yet. He was fine being just friends with Lewis until he saw how close the older man was getting with Jenson. He realises he is utterly jealous because he is in love when he sees Jenson walk out of Lewis’ room one morning. 

—

Mash-up trope

[sing-me-under]

Change

Here we go! It’s done! Much earlier than expected because I got my Apple Pencil replacement literally with a day instead of the week I was told it would take. So that’s cool.

Anyway, blurb under the cut because I’m posting this on the desktop site instead of mobile.

The name of this blurb in my notes is “Hot Iced Tea.”

It all started on a sunny autumn day.

A star fell from the sky and crash landed in the middle of a forest. No one saw it happen, and no one heard. No one knew that a star fell from the sky then stood up and wiped the dust and dirt off his shimmering ethereal form.

It all started when a lost star was discovered by a warrior of fire and ash.

On a beautiful autumn day, they fell in love.

That was the start.

Winter was the end of many things. A lot changed when winter came, and it didn’t stop changing as when winter continued. There was death and there was tragedy, and there was a lot to lose and suddenly nothing left to lose.

But through it all, at least they had each other. As factions splintered and relationships broke, Sapnap still had his fiancés. One day, they’d get married. Maybe it wouldn’t be the grand festival they planned before Doomsday, but no matter what, they still had each other. Even as the world crashed down around them, they still had each other.

It was the beginnings of spring when Sapnap noticed that Quackity’s work trip was going on for much longer than normal. Karl had even gone on two of his trips in that time, and he was getting ready to leave for a third. Sapnap asked Karl to look for their lost fiancé on his last journey, but when Karl returned, he pointedly avoided the topic. In all honesty, Karl avoided every topic  

The only thing preventing Sapnap from looking for Quackity on his own was that he had absolutely no idea where Q was. All he knew was that Quackity was far enough away that their comms weren’t connecting. By the time all spring flowers were in full bloom, Sapnap was too occupied in Kinoko to leave. All he had hope for was that Karl would come across Quackity somewhere or that George’s (increasingly infrequent) trips to the mainland would hear news from El Rapids.

Then summer came.

George was always asleep. Karl was gone more often than not. Quackity was still nowhere to be found.

Sapnap was given total control over an entire kingdom that was never meant to be his to run. He was its guardian, the head of militia, but he was never supposed to be in a position of power. He never wanted to.

So he sat alone as boiling heat waves ripped through Kinoko Kingdom. His naturally high body temperature meant he was used to his friends and family standing away from him during summer time, but this was a whole new form of isolation. It was far far too quiet.

And so summer went.

And autumn starts again.

This time, a love dies.

[thequeenofthewinter]

Work-in-Progress Wednesday

Helllllooooooo Hellions and Hellsite users, 'tis I. Your hostess with the most-est, Winter. And things are just getting started for the Moot. Today, I have for you: Mythical. Magical. Mystical. Idgrod Ravencrone.

Side Note: Things with writing this chapter have been going a bit slowly because I was sick last week, and well, I'm in the middle of primetime grading university essays. It is somewhat likely I won't be posting this week. I am working though! I have 4500 words...and I have only just started writing Moot things. It's likely this chapter is going to be pretty long when I do finish.

Tagging: @oblivions-dawn @sneaksandsweets @blossom-adventures @mareenavee @rainpebble3 @rose-like-the-phoenix and anyone else who would like to participate. I love seeing what others write. <3

Voices begin to swell in the background as the room buzzes with the sounds of gossip. It would seem that not even Jarls are immune to the draw of a good scandal, even if they would want to avoid being talked about themselves. If nothing else, this is certainly an interesting way to commence today’s events.

“If you would all quiet down and take your seats, I’d like to begin. We have a long day ahead of us.” Vignar makes his way to the head of the long table.

Quickly, Ulfric and Dahlia find the last available chairs which happen to be next to Idgrod Ravencrone. They both incline their heads in respect towards the older Jarl despite her prior affiliations and despite the strange visions she claims to have.

Idgrod returns the gesture, first nodding to Ulfric himself and then extending a hand to Dahlia which she reluctantly takes. It is not that she doesn’t wish to take it, but rather that she is afraid of what she will see. While some do not believe in Idgrod’s power, the Dragonborn has had enough brushes with the fantastical and surreal to know that one does not make such claims lightly.

Deep grey eyes narrow as Idgrod grips Dahlia’s hand tightly before turning it over and running wrinkled fingers over the lines of her palm. Soft noises, hums, and mumbled words, fall from her her mouth as she makes a thorough inspection of her palm—all with no explanation or further elaboration. 

All the while Ulfric is the only one who pays her any mind, watching carefully with sharp eyes as it appears that Idgrod has lost herself to her cloudy-eyed visions. After all, why should the other Jarls give her a second glance? At one time or another, they all have fallen victim to her parlor trick, and none of them have found anything extraordinary in her cheap magics. Besides, they all have far more important things to attend to. Their eyes are all trained with apt attention to the welcoming words Vignar offers them.

However, Ulfric is ready. One of his hands has already made its way down to the head of his war axe. Should she make one wrong movement—

“Jarl Ulfric, I mean your wife no harm.” Idgrod snaps his attention from his blade up to her, as she gives him a cryptic smile. “I bid you and your family good tidings.” She pats the back of Dahlia’s hand before letting it drop suddenly. 

Dahlia blinks back at the aging Jarl, not sure what to make of her words to Ulfric, and frowning sightly.

“Don’t frown at me, child. The expression doesn’t suit you,” she tells her but not unkindly. “Besides, we are going to have an interesting next few hours, don’t you think? And you’re going to have some very interesting days ahead of you. You’ll need all the smiles you can manage. We all will.”

[screwhope]

she's in her head. emma is always in her head around bucky. he is two people to her -- one she doesn't know well , the other she knows in ways no one else ever had or will. here &* there , she is split between which way her mind perceives him. a new man worth learning , or something irrevocably lost to her ? bucky has said it himself to others --------- I AM NOT THE WINTER SOLDIER ANYMORE. winter is someone he wants far away from ; someone worth erasing &* apologizing for &* burying. she can't begrudge him for that. he had not been himself ; he had been something awful &* brutal &* murderous in a way wartime bucky had never been. would never be. of course he wants to be himself again. to distance himself from the machine of torment that hydra made him. &* yet he is here , trying to find the middle man between winter &* bucky for her -------

❛ you're okay with us doing this, right ? because if you're not —

emerald gaze snaps to attention as @saturnmused speaks , wide eyes blinking like a doe as she quickly tries to pretend she was listening to what he said the last minute. ❛  why wouldn't i be okay doing this ? ❜ an easy thing to answer despite the false confidence she is trying to portray about the whole situation -------- trying to force winter to recognize her meant letting the winter soldier resurface even a little bit. to delve into all the trauma that erased winter's mind over &* over just for the benefit of seeing the life winter &* emma made together amidst all that bad.

all to show bucky a glimpse into it. not the whole history ; that was lost &* broken into fragments &* feelings -- along with the ache of not being able to fully remember that winter always grieved about. they'd always lamented their sorries about the book emma kept of their life -- of seeing the words she'd written &* knowing they would never have any more memory of those times than simply this moment of reading them. sorry for leaving her behind each time , no matter how they had absolutely no hand in it. nothing would bring back those times for bucky. it was the fragments in question here.

wanda offered her powers ------ to show him what she saw in emma's mind. but she didn't have the best grip on her powers when used for good. the chance of it backfiring was higher than this. &* still emma hesitates. was it worth it ? the pain it could cause bucky just for the gain of her ? WAS SHE WORTH IT ? he offers the chance to try , so he must know the risk. the effort spent to erase hydra's influence on his brain was monumental &* still an ongoing battle. the idea that trying to reach backward -- to take a step back into winter's shoes -- just for memories of her ? honestly , she feels like she might barf.

❛   i'm ------- ❜ ( tell the truth. let him out of this. fly south for the winter &* leave , emma. you are not worth this risk. there is no reward for him. ) lips purse , then an uneasy swallow is earned. ❛   you don't have to do this , bucky. this is probably a stupid idea. no , it's definitely a stupid idea. it's not ------ i'm not . . . ❜ her hands nervously squeeze the notebook in her lap , grip white-knuckled. ❛ we can just drop it. i just need your help with finding my kid ; getting back what hydra took from me. this doesn't have to be anything other than that. what we had was between winter &* me. no need to drag you into it. ❜

[fatherentropy]

Because my tES roster has gotten large and complicated I thought I should make this and ramble a bit. And then tumblr ate my post so let's try to do this AGAIN but quicker because I started writing this at midnight and it's now 6 am SO!!

warning for child endangerment/death

Winter, Summer, Autumn and Spring are names given to girls kidnapped by this one man. There have been multiples of them but the last four are here. Winter was murdered before she could reclaim her name, Summer forgot hers and Spring...I just haven't named her. She's not that important outside Lily's story aah.

Lily is not coping well with anything going on in her life but is doing remarkably well for a girl who was orphaned at 11 and raised herself on the road. Largely because she's being personally supported by Sheogorath because she's his "Grand niece." Dedicated her life on Nirn to hunting Thalmor and Stormcloaks, blaming them for her parents' death.

Lulueith was raised by her mom in Valenwood but left to look for her dad after she passed from illness out of curiosity and nothing holding her where she grew up. She was disappointed because he's largely just a drunk content to drinking himself to death in peace. Just here to vibe now.

Part of Lulu's dad's angst is from Summer trying to kill him before abandoning him altogether. She was a very bad mom but she tried because she tries a lot of things seeing if it'll make her feel anything significant since growing up in constant fear has kind of fucked her brain up. She meant to destroy Tuveri's life specifically but her plan was foiled by Martin's kindness giving Tuveri the power to push her away. Fled Cyrodiil after Martin died because part of that seperation was Tuveri warning her that the next time he saw her he was going to kill her.

(I also drew Summer's line too dark but I think I'll keep this. I like it more than what I've been rolling with.)

Tuveri!! Is an Ashlander actually. His dad got sick and died and Tuveri was in the middle of making him a cairn when he got too close to the road and was pinched by the man and brought to Cyrodiil. Would have returned to Morrowind after escaping with the other two surviving girls but he kept dreaming of Cyrodiil and took that as a sign he had to stay. Thus him becoming HoK and then Sheogorath after that.

I have a lot of thoughts about Tuveri as Sheogorath but that's another rambly essay. To put it simply he's kind and caring to those who are "his" and malicious to those who aren't because that's typically the role they cast him and his in. Thus him targeting Ulfric and his scheme resulting in his son named both Martin (by Tuveri) and Yngve (by Ulfric).

Have a lot on Yngve's emotional state but not a lot of anything else just 'cause Todd willing I might plop him in the next game whenever tf that happens. (Y'know providing we don't go back the timeline/they don't add a super specific opening ala Fallout 4.)

detour to talk about Laury

He's named after the witch his parents managed to take down before they were murdered by the other three while trying to protect him. He was then raised by them to be Hermaeus' champion. Though large parts of that time is lost because his memory is swiss cheese between the alchemical shit he was forced to imbibe (Fun fact! Laury has taste only in one small part of his mouth) and depression.

There's math somewhere in the blank space of me trying to figure out Winter/Autumn's ages during Morrowind because I realized I could go the full nine yards and pull Laury into this weird mix above by doing this:

Nerevarine as dad or grandad? I dunno yet but next time I try and play that game... yeehaw. That man is gonna have a bad time.

Also think it's very tragic of Winter's mom to look to Hermaeus for answers and become one of his biggest shill holes when he sponsored her daughter's kidnapper.

(technically still thinking about whether I should but I'll probably do it. You've heard rule of cool, have you heard of rule of sad?)

I have other ESO alts besides Yorick and Illya but I tend to delete them on a whim so! Hypothetically, Yorick is actually like 50ish% human so a(n indirect) descendant of his could be the man but that's a lot of centuries between. Do you know how many bretons you could fit in there? At what point does it stop mattering.

Illya is just a dragon priest that saw the writing on the wall and fucked off. Kept the mask and became a vampire because can you imagine dying? Couldn't be him. He is my Miraak expy and I love him even if I do nothing with him ever.

[catofadifferentcolor]

Dragon Age: Inquisition

"Truth is not the end, but a beginning."

With the release of Dragon Age: The Veilguard upon us at last, I decided to do a full replay of Dragon Age: Inquisition from start to finish, all side quests and DLCs included.

It took me 70 hours. By the middle of the game I was so overpowered that it was not even funny and couldn't even gain XP in the last half of the main plot line at all. I finished at level 27, having hit level 23 sometime before the Winter Palace.

It took so long - the better part of 7 weeks - that towards the middle I had to stop and play something else simply because I'd lost interest. (Stray was an excellent palette cleanser and an excellent game overall. If you haven't, go play it now.)

But what can I say about DA:I that hasn't been said in the last ten years?

I still think it's a weaker story than DA2. DA2 went out of its way to show how no one was perfect, everyone was at fault, and no one person could stop the mages or templars from rebelling. I go into it at length during my review of that game, but it made for a powerful story. DA:I does not. There's only so many save the world plot lines a person can take. Is it better than DA:O? Yes, but that's not exactly a high bar.

The characters are not memorable. I only find about half of them worth the time on any given replay, and would easily not bother with most of them if I wasn't a completionist at heart. Dorian is probably my favorite character as he's funny and complex and offers a look at Tevinter we didn't get to see in the first two games, and I find Cullen's redemption arc surprisingly refreshing... but otherwise even Varric and Cassandra - who played off each other so well in DA2 - were uninteresting. Some of the banter was quality, but banter is a dime a dozen in video games. Quality characters - like AC's Ezio - are harder.

And don't get me started on the fan-favorite Solas. As I've ranted about at length to my one colleague who plays the game: I do not understand how people romanticize that romance. If someone treated me as condescendingly as Solas does the PC, I'd probably stab them. He is literally just Corypheus in a slightly more palatable coat. I suppose he should get some credit for being sad about wanting to destroy the world, but that doesn't make what he's doing good and noble. Guilt without attrition is meaningless. Trying to undo your actions because you can't live with him is childishly naive, no matter how much power you throw at the problem. If working with the Inquisition throughout DA:I wasn't enough to show him Thedas is worth saving, nothing is.

Corypheus himself has excellent dialogue, but is so easy to beat it's farcical. In the DA2 DLC it took real effort to kill him in his prison; here, with multiple armies at his beck and call, there was never any doubt the Inquisition would succeed. There was never anything like in Mass Effect 3 where despite all your successes, things were becoming worse - and you still failed from time to time.

And don't get me started on the utter lack of personality from the Inquisitor. They feel like a non-entity at best - which, some have argued, is the point; the dehumanization of worship, the isolation of godhood, &c - but that feels like justification after the fact. It took me looking through the wiki years after first playing the game to realize that the elven Inquisitor's clan could be destroyed - that war table operations could have failed results. I'd never bothered to read many of the reports and certainly they never reacted to their entire extended family being killed... It meant nothing and had no effect on anything, so I have no idea why it was included. I feel that way about a lot of the game.

Don't get me wrong - it's not a bad game. The mechanics are easy to get used to, even if the sandbox feels too big and free at times - especially when you're running around on your thousandth pointless side quest that a god-herald of Thedas should be able to assign to minion. The graphics aren't bad, especially when viewing scenery at a distance - from the balconies on Skyhold or the Trespasser DLC for instance - though fighting a hollow dragon gets old the third or fourth time you do it. There are also some spectacular glitches - in this play through my PC somehow ended up 100' above the map for five minutes before being dropped down in a location quite distant from where I was. And after defeating Saarath in the last five minutes of Trespasser, my PC's body was about 5' from his head and arms for a good 30s before resetting.

But I can't love the game. I've passed many (mostly enjoyable) hours playing it, but can some days can't even be said to like it. And it all comes back to the plot.

To roughly quote Stargate: SG-1: Saving the world shouldn't get old. And yet it does - perhaps because all the grey areas I love'd about DA2 are taken away. The Conclave was nominally about putting an end to the Mage-Templar War, yet the game's solution to that is just to kill off one side or the other. The complexities that led to that point are completely ignored. And this is repeated ad nauseam throughout the game.

Thedas is a complex world filled with complex problems. And all of that is wiped away to fight Corypheus, with only hints of their return appearing in the epilogues. And that is what I cannot stand about the game. They pushed off solving any of the issues DA2 brought to light for another game entirely. I can only hope DA:V delivers.

Other points of note: 1) The Dorian romance is probably my favorite, for the simple fact Dorian is the most interesting companion in the game for obvious reasons. I would kill to have him appear in DA:V in some regard. 2) I remain completely blind to why people adore the bald hobo so, and found his post-game reveal to be a complete WTF. Some plot twists are shocking but understandable in context; this one came so completely from no where it feels like a bad joke even a decade later. noverture's "In the face of your light" is the closest anyone's ever come to making me understand - and, indeed, is worth reading many times - but it shouldn't fall to a fanfic to explain a main plot point. 3) If you're going to give me 1000 side quests, at least 750 of them should have bearing on the plot. 4) I hunted down every single shard. At least this time I got the achievement for it. Still can't say it was worth it.

One last note: I checked my character stats at the start of Trespasser. I'd played a male, elven, two-handed warrior this go around (because a tiny elf flinging around a massive sword will never not be funny to me) and having competed everything that could be completed to that point... I had a strength of 75, and cunning, willpower, and constitution all in the 30s. Dexterity was 12. The fact that this is even possible baffles the mind.

All that said, I'll probably end up replaying the game. (And I sincerely hope DA:V doesn't use the asinine Dragon Age Keep, which hasn't allowed me to log in for years at this point, because I wish to god I could import my DA2 world state which is on this Xbox.) But that doesn't make me blind to it's problems. It's solid, but leaves me wanting better, not more. 4 out of 5 stars.

[knifedancer]

Let It Snow (1/2)

Felinette story involving snow and kissing inspired by a 'snow' weather prompt. Loosely based on the lyrics for 'Let It Snow'.

Part 2/2 | AO3

~~~~~~

…is so Delightful.

Marinette had always been drawn to the snow. Even as a little kid, seeing the city blanketed in a fluffy blanket of white, she would squeal in delight and rush outside. Perhaps it was the individual patterns of every snowflake or the glittery, glistening effect of the sun upon it that drew her in… There was nothing quite as magical as fresh wintery powder just begging to be danced in. Okay, so there’s miraculous that gave wielders magical powers – sure. But the snowball fights! The snow angels! The dragon’s breath! Snowmen and igloos! The quiet stillness over the rooftops at night! She hadn’t outgrown her love of the snow as she’d gotten older – if anything, it grew stronger. Seeing the first snowfall made her just as giddy as when she was barely big enough to put on her own boots.

That’s why, when the class was on a field trip to a local park to learn about various animal behaviors in winter, she quietly slipped away until the nattering tone of their teacher’s voice was a hum in the background. She wandered into an open area with a fountain, thrilled that it remained untouched by anyone else since last night’s storm rolled through. Her smile widened with excitement, too big to be contained by her scarf as her small boot crunched down on the fresh snow for the first time. No one else was around…

Unable to contain it any longer, she squealed with joy. The young designer eagerly danced into the square and around the fountain. Her arms outstretched and mouth wide to catch the falling flakes, twirling from one foot to the other with grace, as if her body had forgotten how to be clumsy. Marinette hopped up on the edge of the fountain and ran her gloved fingers along the edge of the thin ice that had formed along the middle tier, watching with wonder as drips of water escaped down the still forming icicles below. Then she giggled and kicked her foot along the top of the basin – a spray of snow showering down to the sidewalk below. She continued her dance on her tiptoes, mimicking a ballerina’s pirouette with a spin, before leaping off and landing safely in the grass beneath a lamppost into a penché. Marinette’s heart thumped loudly in her ears from the exertion, mimicking the applause of her invisible audience as she made a bow. Her hand plucked an imaginary rose from her feet – scooping a small amount of the delicate white dust there – before launching it into the air above her head with a swift upward arch.

As the snowflakes rained back down, the pigtailed girl turned her face up to the sky with a dreamy sigh. “Been a long time since I’ve danced like that! I wonder if Nino still remembers the lifts we used to do,” she giggled as she closed her eyes, lost to the memories of childhood dance classes meant to improve her coordination. She let her mind drift to the haunting melodies her madame had played, puckering her lips to whistle along as snowflakes landed on her face.

~~

Oh, the weather outside is Frightful…

Felix always hated the snow. Even as a little kid, he avoided going out in the winter. If he awoke to find frost upon his window, he would scowl and dive back into his blankets. While others ran around outside, dirtying their clothes, he preferred to stay inside where it was warm. He just couldn’t understand the appeal. It was cold and wet! The slush and mush! Icicles dripped down your neck when you least expected it! It clung to your clothes and made every joint in his extremities ache! Not to mention the chance of frostbite! Inevitably his cousin, a bundle of joyous energy, would drag him unwillingly from the house into the yard…where Felix would have to endure his every antic with a concealed grimace. Be it snowball fights, snowmen, or the nondescript lumpy buildings Adrien called a “snow fort.” After enough time had passed to assuage his boisterous cousin, he would retreat back into the warmth of the house and curl up by the fire with a book while Adrien nibbled on popcorn. Sure, he was intrigued by the ice and snow sculptures that people would create but felt no affinity to experience it firsthand!

That’s why, when the class was on a field trip to a local park on this overcast day, he waited on the outskirts until he could silently sneak away to find shelter from the light dusting that was falling from the sky. Only when Felix could no longer hear their teacher’s voice did he breathe a sigh of relief, pulling his scarf and jacket lapels in tighter to his body to keep out the frightful cold. He wandered along a newly trodden path, hoping that the hastily made footprints were a sign that whoever came before him was cutting the quickest path to a nearby café…

Felix rounded a small oak copse and came to a sudden halt at the sound of a girl’s squeal. In the clearing ahead was the class representative, Marinette, frolicking around a fountain, as if dancing to music only she could hear. This was a whole other side to the shy designer that he had never seen before! He was utterly captivated... The way she flitted around like a fairy, the bits of flurry decorating her coat and legs like flounces in a skirt; the crystals sparkling with the diminished sunlight as she moved.  The way the newly fallen snowflakes adorned her hair, like a laurel of edelweiss. The graceful movements that seemed so foreign on the girl he knew for tripping on air. Her reverent yet excited touches that led to carefree kicks of snow.

When she leapt from the basin edging, his heart raced as he was sure this would be the moment the girl’s clumsiness would reappear… only for her to land and bow to her imaginary audience. The blood pumping in his ears sounded like the roar of a crowd. Marinette seemed to finally settle; her face upturned towards the cloudy sky. She started to whistle softly, the hauntingly beautiful melody drawing him in. Felix stepped forward as quietly as he could, not wanting to scare or disrupt the song. As Felix closed the distance between them, his breath caught in his throat. Her eyes were closed, he could see the way snowflakes were coating her eyelashes like glitter. Her cheeks were brightened by the exertion of the dance she had just completed but her breathing was even; her obvious concentration on the melody she was creating. She was absolutely enchanting.

He watched with fascination as a snowflake landed and promptly melted against her lips. He wondered if they were as warm and inviting as they looked. Overcome by his curiosity, Felix leaned in and pressed his lips to hers with a feather-light touch…

~~~

But if you really hold me tight, all the way home I’ll be warm…

With the final notes cut off by a warm pair of lips that brought fire to their veins, a silence settled around the two. Marinette’s eyes shot open with a start. In front of her stood Felix Fathom, the snobbish blond from her class. The same Felix that loved to cause chaos and impersonate his cousin. His hazel green eyes met hers, looking just as surprised as she felt. They were so close together that their cloudy breaths mingled between them, their noses just millimeters from touching. Their lips tingling from more than just the cold nipping at their noses.

“Felix…what…,” her voice came out as a confused whisper.

“Your little recital around the fountain was exemplary. It is customary to gift a performer with a token of esteem, is it not?” Felix murmured just as quiet, watching as the knowledge that he had seen her dance caused Marinette to blush a rosy hue.

She scoffed softly and took a step back, still bewildered by his actions, “Isn’t that usually flowers?”

“Was my token too meager an offering to the great Miss Dupain-Cheng?” He asked with a smirk.

Marinette sputtered for a moment and Felix took the opportunity to wrap an arm around her waist, drawing her into his embrace. She squeaked with surprise, staring at her hands as they came to rest on his wool coated chest. He chuckled and murmured into the crown of her hair, “Perhaps I can show you a better way to spend a snow day, my dear?”

Her gaze shifted up to look into his face again, only to be caught by a movement in her periphery. There, unexpectedly hanging from the lamppost, was a sprig of mistletoe tied with a red ribbon. Felix watched as her blue eyes filled with mirth at something over his head before coming back to meet his green stare. One of her hands slid up to the nape of his neck as she leaned in.

“‘Tis the season…”

Their lips met and they quickly found themselves lost in each other, no longer affected by the cold breeze or wayward snowflakes that flurried around them.

Felix never made it to that café but he did discover a new appreciation for the snow.

Let it snow, Let it Snow, Let it Snow…

~~~~~~~~

AUTHOR NOTE: I like to imagine a well-intentioned kwami planted that mistletoe there. I’ll let you contemplate which one. 😉 My vote is on Duusu, she seems like she’d get a kick out of it.

[bookaddict24-7]

REVIEWS OF THE WEEK!

EVERY WEEK I WILL POST VARIOUS REVIEWS I’VE WRITTEN SO FAR IN 2024. YOU CAN CHECK OUT MY GOODREADS FOR MORE UP-TO-DATE REVIEWS HERE.

___

51. The Clue in the Diary by Carolyn Keene--⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

Four stars because I've been waiting to get to this one in the series. We finally meet Nancy's series boyfriend here and he is a very keen guy. So swell. LOL. To be honest, knowing that he becomes her series boyfriend made it all the more obvious because of his behaviour. While he wasn't the first guy to catch Nancy's eye, he's the one that was the most persistent.

The mystery in this was pretty good--it made me feel like I was watching a mystery show. I think it might be one of the more layered mysteries so far in the series. And I don't mean that in that it has multiple mysteries, but in the sense that it felt like it had more heart than some of the other books in the series (so far).

Anyway, this was the last audiobook at the library of this classic series, so I don't know if I'll be reading beyond this, but maybe one day I will.

___

52. The Winter King by C.L. Wilson--⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️.5

I came across THE WINTER KING on Tik Tok and I remember thinking, "This sounds like a book full of tropes I'm going to love." I was correct.

Wilson has created a beautiful and fantastical slow burn of a romance where the spice and sexual tension may be immediate, but the romantic part of the story is a slower burn. And the best part is that while these two are coming together and pulling apart, there is an actual fantasy storyline happening at the same time. There was always something happening and it was all being told in dual POV, which I'm very grateful for.

I'm a sucker for a FMC who has always been underestimated and treated less than she deserves, only for her to prove everyone wrong and for things to finally go her way. This book was full of those moments and they were like catnip for me. The brooding hero making her feel like she isn't wanted, when he in fact is too scared to get close to her because he wants her? Yes please, melt me.

Also, the side characters were great! Especially a younger one that comes into the story later on. Everything just came together so beautifully and ugh, I'm so glad I finally read this.

I highly recommend this for anyone who wants a slowburn, but sexy fantasy novel that also has a pretty great storyline.

By the way, I went to bed very late last night because I kept adding ten more minutes to my audiobook timer. I couldn't stop listening!!

___

53. The Language of Seabirds by Will Taylor--⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

THE LANGUAGE OF SEABIRDS, right from the beginning, has this beautiful and nostalgic air to it. Over the span of a few days, we get to see the MC learn more about himself, what it means to speak up, and the power that words and actions can have. It also shows how infallible even parents can be when they are somewhat just as lost as we feel.

Dealing with divorce, a father who is acting differently than normal (given the circumstances and his one too many drinks), and that in between chaos of deciding what life will look like post-divorce, our MC's summer isn't off to the best start. When he sees a mysterious and cute boy running on the beach past his temporary summer home, it sets of a chain of events.

Their adventures (and misadventures) over those two weeks gave me the greatest sense of nostalgia for those summer nights that can only truly be experienced while being a kid. The ending took me out, emotionally, and had me teary eyed in bed at 330 in the morning.

Also, I want to say that this book is 100% a middle grade book because the characters are only 12, but this is probably one of the most beautifully written middle grade books I've read. It felt very literary and almost older than the intended audience--not because of content, it was all very age-appropriate--but because of that feeling it made me feel of summers lost, and the way the story is written and presented. I think this is a great book for people of all ages to read, especially those who want to reminisce on their first loves, especially those who couldn't pursue said first loves because sometimes there can be truly negative consequences, or simply the fear of acknowledging that love.

The author also included an author's note about what he wanted to invoke in this book and truly, he fully did his work. What a gorgeous and under-appreciated book.

___

54. How to Bite Your Neighbor & Win A Wager by D.N. Bryn--⭐️⭐️⭐️

I'll be honest: I never knew this book existed until I came across it on Libby. It looked fun (from the cover alone) and listen, who doesn't like a vampire romance now and then? I will say, though, that while this cover is very indicative of the emotion between these two characters during this act, this book was surprisingly...not what I was anticipating?

I thought this book would be spicier and just MORE. By the end of the book, I felt both relieved and a little let-down. Relieved because I was counting down the minutes until the audiobook ended and a little let-down because, like I said, I wanted more. I wanted the climax of the story to give me more. I wanted the romance to feel more...passionate? I don't know. It all felt a little too easy? And at times, I totally forgot these characters were adults. I thought that this could have easily been a YA novel, the main difference is that these characters are old enough to work office jobs.

I did like the diversity (both racially and body-type). I also really liked the one MC's best friend, she was great and I loved that she kept that MC levelheaded.

I enjoyed how they fell in love. It reminded me of past novels I've read where one MC shouts out that they love one of the characters, which gives me that "Aw" feeling. But I'm still a little salty that this was a vampire romance and it wasn't very sexy.

Anyway, if you like contemporary fantasy novels with vampires and close door romances, I think you'll enjoy this one. Was it silly at some points? Sure. But well, it wasn't the worst vampire book I've read!

___

55. Hideaway by Nora Roberts--⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

Another day, another Nora Roberts book I've thoroughly enjoyed. I'm beginning to see the somewhat formula behind some of these books and I'm not going to lie, for the moment, I'm really enjoying said formula.

One of the beautiful things about HIDEAWAY is the familial love and how thoroughly this MC is loved. And even though I had to suspend my disbelief in the beginning (how is a ten year old capable of so much???), I was hooked.

Roberts has such an addicting way of writing. Her books are so much more than the fluffy romances people have always classified them as. Yes, there's romance in this, but it's also a thriller with some people who would heavily benefit from serious therapy.

It was also interesting seeing such a wealthy family have such a warm core.

Will definitely be picking up another Roberts novel!

___

56. You & Me by Tal Bauer--⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

⬆️⬆️ Real footage of me after I finished reading YOU & ME after only sleeping for two hours because I couldn't put the book down.

Listen, I'm an avid reader. There are some books I love and then there are some books that make me say, "I don't care about sleep, give me all the pages." YOU & ME was one of the latter books for me. I wanted to know what would come next, I wanted to know if these cinnamon rolls would get their shit together, and I especially wanted to see the father/son relationship be healed.

This book has hype behind it and it is completely worth it.

This is like one of those rare books that you immediately know will both linger with you long after it's done, and will be something you're going to re-read in the future.

I loved their love, I loved their relationships, and I loved seeing the unravelling of the mess that we are introduced to in the beginning. This is a story about love, hope, friendship, and heart. I loved it so much.

___

57. Barbarian's Prize by Ruby Dixon--⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

I was excited for this one because LOOK AT THAT GORGEOUS COVER! While it's not my favourite book in the series, I found it did hold some pretty important themes.

The FMC is dealing with some serious trauma after being r@ped various times when she was captured at the beginning of the series. I think that's one thing that's easy to bypass in the past few books--the trauma these women went through after being capture is sometimes swept aside in order to get some sexy times. But I liked that Dixon let her FMC heal herself before she gave her heart to her mate. I'd call this book more a sobering moment in this spicy series.

I liked the MMC because he knew what the FMC needed and how to respectfully approach her. Maybe the bar is set in hell, but I thought it was sweet that he wasn't as pushy as all of the other male aliens around them. God, that's such a weird sentence to write. LOL.

Anyway, onto the next one!

___

58. Mindy Kim, Class President by Lyla Lee & Dung Ho--⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

I think that books like this one are such important reads for the little readers in our lives. Not only does it teach the reader more about a culture (key words and phrases and snacks), but it also teaches them the importance of kindness, bravery, and how to approach scary moments in life.

Mindy faces her class's presidential elections in this one and while the teacher comments on the importance of voting and using that right we all have, we also watch Mindy overcome her fear of public speaking and how it's okay to be an adult with fears (her father), or my favourite, how it's okay for adults to have stuffed animals.

I love seeing Mindy grow in each book and I will never get over how adorable she is! I think this is a great and under-appreciated series.

___

59. Indian Horse by Richard Wagamese--⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

INDIAN HORSE is an emotional punch of a book. I think it's definitely one of those books that will haunt the reader for a very long time after the very last page. It was beautifully written, but it was also written with the phantom blood of those poor children who suffered, died, and were permanently scarred by residential schools.

Triggering is one of the first words that comes to mind when I now think of this book, but it's also so incredibly important.

This is the perfect of example of using and excelling at something to run and try to escape from the monsters in the dark, but that not even something you once loved can be a permanent escape. Monsters always find a way to find us in the end.

God, this was a beautiful and heartbreaking book--made even more so knowing that while this is a fictional story, the events are not wholly confined to this book. The horrors these children suffered will forever haunt our society. The cowardice and monstrosity of using religion to dehumanize people is something worth burning in hell for.

So, though it is triggering and traumatizing, INDIAN HORSE is a must read, since sometimes it is the most jarring books that have the greatest impact.

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Have you read any of these books? What are your thoughts?

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Happy reading!

[newstfionline]

Friday, May 17, 2024

Americans are falling behind on their credit card bills (NPR) Nearly one in five credit card users have maxed out on their borrowing, according to the Federal Reserve Bank of New York. People under 30 and those who live in low-income neighborhoods are more likely to be at or close to their credit limit. The debt is a sign borrowers are feeling the strain of rising prices and high interest rates.

Overdose deaths dropped for the first time in five years (NYT) U.S. overdose deaths declined in 2023 by about 3 percent from the year prior, according to federal data released today. Last year’s toll—107,543—was still horrific. But it was the first drop-off in drug fatalities since 2018, when the rates were two-thirds of their current height. The decrease was attributable mostly to a drop in deaths from synthetic opioids, but the report did not offer reasons for the drop. One possible factor is that naloxone, a drug that reverses opioid overdoses, has become more widely available.

Chile’s capital faces fiercest cold snap in decades (Reuters) Chileans are bundling up with more clothes and clutching cups of hot coffee as the country faces the most intense cold snap in nearly 70 years, bringing winter weather in the middle of autumn. “Since 1950, that is, in the last 74 years, we had not had a cold wave as intense as the current one in May,” climatologist at the University of Santiago, Raul Cordero, told Reuters. For Thursday, the meteorological office expected a minimum temperature of 1 degree Celsius (34 Fahrenheit) in the central Santiago area. The change was abrupt—within days of summer heat ending, mountains near the capital had snowy peaks.

A France in Shock Confronts the Violence in Its Midst (NYT) If France is a country of illusions—a beautiful and seductive land offering many of life’s greatest pleasures that sits atop and conceals a crime-ridden, drug-plagued world of violence—then the past week offered a rude awakening to this dual reality. The Olympic flame arrived on French soil last week in the ancient port city of Marseille as a joyous crowd thronged the beautiful harbor. But the flame also arrived in a city whose northern districts are the epicenter of the French drug trade, where 49 people were killed last year and 123 injured in drug-related shootings. The coldblooded killing on Tuesday of two prison guards on a major highway in an ambush that freed Mohamed Amra, a midlevel prisoner being investigated in Marseille for possible ties to a drug-related homicide case, shook France. This, just 85 miles from the capital, was a methodical execution in broad daylight on the main road from Paris to Normandy. Its methods were consistent with the brutality of a booming narcotics market. Senator Jérôme Durain, a member of the Socialist Party and one of two authors of a Senate Committee report on drug trafficking in France that was completed this week, was not shocked by the killing. “The world we found was one of limitless violence involving people, often very young people, who have no conscience and lost all sense of the value of life,” he said in an interview. “This fits exactly.”

In this Spanish town, capitalism actually works for the workers (Christian Science Monitor) At first glance, this could be any industrial factory. Workers wearing protective gloves assemble control panels and heating plates amid the relentless whirring of machinery. Giant yellow robot arms swing back and forth, lining trays with tiny metal parts. But there is a reason that each year thousands of visitors from every continent come to this mountainous Basque landscape to study factories like this one. This is the home of the Mondragon Corp., the world’s largest federation of worker-owned cooperatives. By the end of the day, this floor alone will churn out 30,000 gas valves, destined for stoves worldwide. Yet it is also churning out a radically different vision of capitalism. In a traditional capitalist system, decision-making power and wealth are concentrated in the hands of a few top executives and shareholders. In contrast, Mondragon’s nearly 70,000 members, ranging from floor workers to top executives, are co-owners of their businesses. They have voting power at general assemblies, where they weigh in on company strategy and policy. The income disparity between the highest- and lowest-paid employees in Mondragon’s cooperatives is capped at a ratio of 6-to-1, compared with a typical ratio of 344-to-1 in the United States. (It’s typically 77-to-1 in Spain.) “Here, no one is rich,” says Hugo Montalvo, who works for a Mondragon based in Bergara, a short drive from the town of Mondragón. “But no one is poor either. We’re all in that middle range, earning decent salaries.”

Age no barrier for Italy’s 90-year-old sprint queen (Reuters) Born on Aug. 1, 1933, Mazzenga is one of the unsung stars of Italian athletics, currently holding five world records, nine European records and 28 best Italian performances in various categories of Masters sprinting—competitive races for older runners organised by age group. “I am very happy and satisfied, and also a bit surprised because I didn’t think I went that fast,” Mazzenga said modestly after her record-breaking run on May 5, beating the previous record of 53.35 seconds set by Japan’s Emiko Saito in 2022. Her running career as a Masters athlete, which she kicked off at the age of 53, has been an important comfort for Mazzenga’s later years. “It got me through some difficult times, which of course haven’t been lacking in a life as long as mine,” she said. Her next commitments include the Italian championships starting in June and she has an eye on the world championships in Sweden next year, but Mazzenga joked that she prefers “not to make long-term plans.”

NATO considers sending trainers into Ukraine (NYT) NATO allies are inching closer to sending troops into Ukraine to train the country’s armed forces, a move that would blur a previous red line. Ukrainian officials have asked for help training 150,000 new recruits closer to the front lines, for faster deployment. The U.S. has said no, but the chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff said today that a NATO deployment of trainers appeared to be inevitable. Under the alliance’s treaty, the U.S. would be obliged to aid in the defense of the trainers if they were attacked, potentially dragging America into the war.

China and Russia reaffirm ties as Moscow presses offensive in Ukraine (AP/Bloomberg) Russian President Vladimir Putin thanked Chinese leader Xi Jinping for efforts to resolve the Ukraine conflict at a Beijing summit Thursday, where the two leaders reaffirmed a “no-limits” partnership that has grown deeper as both countries face deepening tensions with the west. Xi said his nation was “ready to work with Russia as a good neighbor, friend and partner with mutual trust,” state broadcaster China Central Television reported Thursday after the pair met in Beijing. China was prepared “to consolidate the friendship between the two peoples for generations to come,” Xi added. Putin described the nations’ cooperation as “one of the main stabilizing factors in the international arena,” according to a video posted on a Kremlin social media account.

Japan, famously polite, struggles to cope with influx of tourists (Washington Post) Japan is proud of its “omotenashi” spirit: Its practice of wholeheartedly caring and catering for guests. But a post-covid surge in tourist numbers, coupled with a weak yen that makes Japan cheaper for many visitors, is pushing Japan’s world-famous hospitality to the brink. One town is installing a huge screen to stop tourists causing traffic jams while they take selfies in front of Mount Fuji. At least one overrun restaurant is reserving Friday nights for locals only. Even the deer of Nara, usually very proactive about coming forth for snacks, have had their fill. This is because international tourists, unable to enter Japan for two and a half years during the covid pandemic, now appear to be making up for lost time. A staggering 25.1 million tourists visited the country last year, marking a sixfold increase from 2022. The influx has been good for the Japanese economy. But, in many popular places, it has not been good for the locals. There have been widespread complaints about overcrowding, litter, and strain on infrastructure.

Pacific countries call for calm as New Caledonia riots continue (AP) New Caledonia’s Pacific neighbours called for de-escalation and a return to dialogue between France and the island territory’s political parties, after a third night of violent riots that have killed four people and led to hundreds of arrests. France declared a state of emergency in New Caledonia that came into force at 5 a.m. local time (1800 GMT Wednesday), giving authorities additional powers to ban gatherings and forbid people from moving around the island. Rioting broke out over a new bill, adopted by lawmakers in Paris on Tuesday, that will let French residents who have lived in New Caledonia for 10 years vote in provincial elections—a move some local leaders fear will dilute the indigenous Kanak vote.

US military says Gaza Strip pier project is completed (AP) The U.S. military finished installing a floating pier for the Gaza Strip on Thursday, with officials poised to begin ferrying badly needed humanitarian aid into the enclave besieged over seven months of intense fighting in the Israel-Hamas war. Fraught with logistical, weather and security challenges, the maritime route is designed to bolster the amount of aid getting into the Gaza Strip, but it is not considered a substitute for far cheaper land-based deliveries that aid agencies say are much more sustainable. The boatloads of aid will be deposited at a port facility built by the Israelis just southwest of Gaza City and then distributed by aid groups.

Hamas Shift to Guerrilla Tactics Raises Specter of Forever War for Israel (WSJ) Seven months into the war, Hamas is far from defeated, stoking fears in Israel that it is walking into a forever war. The U.S.-designated terrorist group is using its network of tunnels, small cells of fighters and broad social influence to not only survive but to harry Israeli forces. Hamas is attacking more aggressively, firing more antitank weapons at soldiers sheltering in houses and at Israeli military vehicles daily, said an Israeli reservist from the 98th commando division currently fighting in Jabalia. Hamas’s resilience poses a strategic problem for Israeli Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu, who says a key war aim is the total destruction of the Palestinian Islamist group. Concerns have grown within Israel, including in the security establishment, that Israel has no credible plan for replacing Hamas, and whatever achievements the military has won will be diminished. “Hamas is everywhere in Gaza,” said Joost Hiltermann, the head of the Middle East and North Africa program at International Crisis Group, a conflict-resolution organization. “Hamas is far from defeated.”

Religion Publishers See 'A Good Day' (Publishers Weekly) Holy sales stats! How did religion book publishing roll up revenue numbers markedly ahead of other publishing categories last year, up 7.8% over 2022 according to the Association of American Publishers StatShot report? PW called on CEOs and senior sales executives at eight religion and spirituality houses to ask what's driving the numbers up. Top answer: Bibles, which have been in strikingly high demand and tend to pop in sales whenever things get a bit weird geopolitically. “It’s a different day, and a good day,” says Doug Lockhart senior v-p for sales and marketing for HarperCollins Christian Publishing. He noted Google Analytics showed searches for words such as “Bible,” “Bible studies” and “Bible resources” are up 13% over 2023. Why? “There’s a lot of angst in the world today and people are looking for answers. Everything from the Ukraine War to the Hamas-Israel war to the challenges people have in everyday life” prompts people to ask deep questions and to seek spiritual health, says Lockhart.

[steve0discusses]

Ep 44 Pt 1: It Took 3 Damn Seasons For These Two to Meet

I’m not dead! (though my schedule and my long covid fatigue would imply otherwise) So lets procrastinate my other responsibilities and talk about Yugioh.

Seto is still stalled out like my car in the winter.

And the show decided just out of the blue that Seto has right to the throne although he’s the cousin to the Pharaoh...he’s not Yami’s older brother. That’s not really how the birthright of Kings work, last I checked. Now if Seto had married Yami’s Mother? That I know is a clear birthright steal. But uh, last I checked BEWD was not Yami’s Mom, although I would accept that headcanon.

Blue Eyes White Dragon is often shortened to BEWD and it sounds very funny to me so I apologize if I use BEWD too much. But I mean...

(read more under the cut)

But like, Seto has a girlfriend, so he’s allowed to sit at the adult table at Thanksgiving. Meanwhile, Yami’s gonna have to be stuck babysitting because it’s not like he’s gonna be official with either of the two powerful women that he’s inferred to be dating. Like either the Dark Magician girl, or Tea, make your pic, both are godlike.

Or Rebecca, we can count her, too, she’s like a PHD graduate at like 12 and weirdly powerful for no reason. Also, knowing this show, she may have dated several of these people without them knowing so she’d be down.

Anyway, point is, neither Seto or Yami are the Blue Eyes White Dragon so who cares if they are connected to her? If Kissara needs to inherit the throne, she’s right over there, don’t even bother going through Seto. And youknow that’s just the show making a poor analogy for playing cards. Did they intend for it to come out that way? Probably not, but also Kissara isn’t a paper card here, she’s like a real ass woman, despite the zero personality they gave her so far this season.

So Aknadin shakes his head and was like “This isn’t how you treat your not-a-girlfriend, guys” and in one motion decided pull a Mokuba. But, instead of stealing those little star chips from season one in the middle of a card game, he just straight up stole Seto and it was very funny.

Like look at seto’s little feet in that image there haha. Seto’s just been tossed around this season place to place like a ping pong ball.

And then Bakura was like “I’m not done yet, I can do THIS!” and they watched this thing mozy down a hole at like a snail’s pace.

They just watched it slowly descend and were like “... huh. Why didn’t I think of that?”

So Yami whips off his VR headset (well, metaphorically) in order to share his grievances back at the game table. Mostly to dump on Bakura that this game isn’t any fun.

Which is shockingly low standards, we are talking about Yami.

And before I ever had to update the Death count, turns out Seto Kaiba is just fine.

I have no idea why he’s back in the city, don’t think about it, I don’t think it will ever be explained. So he wanders around lost, like he does about 80% of the time on a normal day. Just kinda wanders hoping Roland picks him up at some point.

And when a kid runs directly through his own body he starts to connect the dots about the ancient Egyptian clothing, housing, and general lack of electricity and wheels.

Which is when we finally have them meet.

That’s right, it’s been a while.

Seasons, so many seasons ago, Seto had a dream about the perfect woman, who was also coincidentally dead in his arms, and for so many years we assumed (ok I was the only one who assumed this) that Yugioh’s creators knew that they could in no way ever put these two people in the same exact room.

And then they did. Because Yugioh will never let you write fanfiction, they already do it for you. That’s right, modern Seto Kaiba ran into past Kissara in an alleyway and so lets get a gist of their true love conversation.

And no, that isn’t just me making a joke in the cap, Seto immediately says to this stranger “Girl, I saw you die. In my arms.” and she was like “lol”

And uh that was it. Again, a HUGE leap of romance for Seto Kaiba. This is truly the most romantic he’s been on this show so I can’t dock it too much. But I will dock it somewhat because it’s been so many seasons of leadup, hahaha!

I’ll have you know my bro was like “wow you stan Kissara so much” and I was like “mmm pretty sure I don’t” and he was like “uh you gave her so much more dialogue than in the actual show” and he’s not wrong. Maybe I do stan Kissara. If anything, I stan her being the true Pharaoh of Egypt.

So she’s gonna run off to find the correct Seto. But yes, she did look future Seto Kaiba directly in the eyes when he said “why should I believe you?” and say “I don’t care.”

so that’s about it for this half of this episode that took me........what 7 years to write? I’ve been having fatigue problems, long covid’s a beast, so updates will be whenever they are, but as always, thanks for y’alls patience about it.

And uh, have a little teaser for the next half:

Ohhh yeah that’s right, we gonna do a maze!

And as always here’s a link to read these in chrono order from the beginning if you just got here, and want to see exactly how many posts are in between when Seto hallucinated Kissara and actually met Kissara.

https://steve0discusses.tumblr.com/tagged/yugioh/chrono