#like “[friend name] dies of diarrhea���

[totheidiot]

"i am gay" "i am straight" okay??? i'll bring the rain??? i'll bring the wind??? i'm the mighty hurricane???

[adultswim2021]

Aqua Teen Hunger Force #96: “Juggalo” | April 5th, 2010 - 12:00AM | S08E08

Hey, this one’s pretty memorable, and actually has a decent amount of context on which I can heap. I love heaping things, so let’s go to it: 

Shake is attempting to create a simple diversion for some comedy reason, and he does this by causing a massive pile-up by throwing a concrete slab off an overpass. One of the lives he cut short is Paul F. Tompkins, sorta playing his dapper-ass self. By that I mean he’s got the same personality and they drew him in a relatively accurate manner (I think his head is too small, personally). The man’s spirit haunts Shake and forces him to do good. He has the ability to send Shake to hell when he mouths off. He makes him be nice to Carl, which is the final straw. 

When the angel has a bout of “angel diarrhea” and has to excuse himself, Shake makes a break for it and quickly finds a demonic force to help him vanquish his heavenly pest. But he only has a few minutes on craigslist and the best he can dig up is a teenage juggalo. He’s voiced by Paul “once told me he liked my online comic strip and I am pretty sure he actually meant it” Rust. Shake’s plan doesn’t work, because the kid just dresses shake up like a Denny’s goth and makes him give him and his friends rides. Shake eventually can’t take the torment and blows his own head off with a shotgun. 

The final scene takes place in court. ICP, voicing they (whatever the opposite of “dapper” is)-ass selves, are being sued for their lyrics causing Shake's suicide. George Lowe is the lawyer representing Shake’s household, now in mourning. ICP lightly defends their lyrics, and then reveal they can spit literal fire, and set the court ablaze. That’s it, aside from a brief over the credits scene where Shake is in hell, washing Carl’s car, which I guess also died and went to hell. 

Back around this time, Paul F. Tompkins was very regular on The Best Show on WFMU with Tom Scharpling. Tom Scharpling was on the show way back in 2003’s “The Shaving”. Paul would call the Best Show most weeks and occupy a huge chunk of time. Their most remembered riff was them talking about the then-viral Gathering of the Juggalos in 2009. There’s even a trading card commemorating it. I have it somewhere! I can’t find it in my home, or online. Sorry. PFT and Tom had a falling out shortly after this. What a couple of weirdos!

One last bit: Paul is credited, probably to skirt union rules, as “Mr. Hutchinson”. This is a particularly arcane inside joke based on a story where Paul was recognized in public by fan. At the time, Paul was the host of Best Week Ever, and this fan, who loved the show, misidentified Paul as “Mr. Hutchinson”, believing that to be his name. I actually remember there being one episode of Best Week Ever where Paul came back from a commercial by saying “welcome back to Best Week Ever hosted by Paul F. Tompkins. I’m Mr. Hutchinson”. 

I liked this one fine. I think sometimes going heavy on the guest star can be a mistake, but this one works for me. I haven’t really kept up with PFT, but when this aired I genuinely thought he was one of the funniest guys out there. He might still be for all I know. I respect him, and I should respect him. I am going about this the exact correct way.

MAIL BAG

You wear a disguise to look like SNL guys, but you're not Will Ferrell, you're in Chickenfoot

Mr. Hutchinson? Now that reference I get. What the fuck is this? Some kind of disrespectful music parody? Answer me at once

[iliveforyouilongforyouvesuvia]

Vesuviella: Part 17

It seems that your friend group has a gift for knocking on your shop’s back door whenever you’re trying to rest. First the Devorak siblings' uneven rhythm, and now the sharp sound of metal tapping on wood as you’re just getting ready to head upstairs for a bedtime snack. You briefly hesitate before turning from the steps to let Lucio in.

“MC! Surprised to see me? You know, you should really consider changing up your -” Whatever else he planned to say is drowned out by the ruckus of two large, white, excited dogs pushing their way into your shop and jumping up to lick you. Between their barking, Lucio’s continued nervous chatter, and the late hour, you cave and open your door further.

“Come in.”

He’s already making himself at home at your backroom table by the time you relock the back door. He’s still talking, something about a group of strangers recognizing him and insisting they buy him drinks and dragging him to this part of town which is why he’s here now, and –

“What’s wrong, Lucio?”

“Huh? Nothing’s wrong! I'm great! I’m always great!”

You lean back in your seat opposite him, too tired to do anything beyond fixing him with an unimpressed look. Mercedes and Melchior are happily rolling on the rug behind your counter, and that’s where Lucio fixes his gaze until he can’t take the silence any more and breaks down.

“It’s not fair. You know I’m good-looking, right? Anyone with eyes does. Jules is just being stupid about this, like he always is. What was he thinking, making me the Ugly Stepsister? Look at me! I’m not ugly!” He pauses in his outburst and glances at you, a flicker of uncertainty in his silver eyes before it vanishes. “Right? I’m not ugly?”

You battle to keep the sleep out of your voice as you try to hide a yawn. “You’re not ugly, Lucio.” You’d normally sound a little more enthusiastic, but keeping your eyes open is a struggle right now and your response is all he needs to keep ranting.

“Of course I’m not ugly. I’m the handsomest guy there is. But what if they can’t see that? You know – because I’m such a good actor, I’ll have to pretend to be ugly, and people might believe it, right?” He’s getting fidgety again, clawed metal gauntlet beginning to put dents in your table and shred at the already fraying edges of the coverings. “And then you’re going to say no to me – in the play, you’re going to say no to the Ugly Stepsister in the play, and go off with that good-for-nothing magician. I mean, Cinderella. It’s just not a good idea to -”

His voice dies in his throat when you lay your hand over his metal arm, just as it’s about to put another gouge in your poor tabletop. You look back into his face, bravado and fear and a little bit of hurt twisting across it, and say the only words your sleep-deprived brain can come up with:

“You can’t control what people see, Lucio. Do your best and the effort will show.”

His face relaxes into a sharp smile. “You think so?” The metal hand under yours turns over to clasp your wrist gently, another warm, human one coming to rest on them. “I’ll be the best, MC. We’ll be the best. There’s no way I can do badly if you’re with me! I mean -”

And he’s sputtering off into another bout of verbal diarrhea as your head begins to nod. Mercedes and Melchior take that as their cue to being roughhousing again, which knocks a whole lower shelf of goods to the floor. Somehow, in the space of about thirty seconds, Lucio manages to wrangle the dogs out of the shop and shoo you off to bed before he disappears down the street. You don’t notice the way your name has been absentmindedly carved into the table where his gauntlet was resting until the next morning.

[gaza7october]

https://gofund.me/a9d61647

Hello, my name is Zero"Marwan", I am 24 years old, currently living in the northern part of Gaza City, and I wan an English teacher.

I have studied English language education at Al-Azhar universty in Gaza and i have gratuated with an average of 90.7%.

Since the morning of October 7th, 2023, our lives have been turned upside down. We have lived through the hardest days of our lives, facing displacement and homelessness. We have been forced to leave our home more than ten times since the war began. We would leave without knowing where to go.

We sought refuge in schools and relatives' homes, hoping we could return home and that this nightmare would end. But our house was bombed, and our dreams were destroyed. We became homeless and displaced.

Every day, we wake up to the sound of bombs and rockets . I lived in constant fear and terror with my family, especially when my family's house was bombed while we were taking shelter there.And in one day i have injured a very bad injurys in my arm and my body.

We are experiencing a real famine in Gaza. I’ve gone to bed with my family many nights without dinner because there is no food available. We have had to eat animal and bird feed due to the high cost of flour just to fill the hunger of my family. Even after eating it, we all suffered from diarrhea and severe stomach pain. My children developed rashes on their bodies due to the spread of viruses and the accumulation of garbage.

There is also a severe shortage of water, and even when we find it, it's not safe to drink.

My family are suffering , asking for vegetables, fruits, and eggs, but we can’t afford them because we have no income. The gas shortage has forced us to use fire for everything—cooking and baking—using plastic and pipes because firewood is so hard to find.

My family also developed jaundice, and I struggled a lot to get them better because there was no access to vegetables, fruits, or medicine. I even feared that my son might have developed polio because he already had leg problems before the war, and they worsened due to malnutrition.

Winter is coming, and we have nothing for it. I need clothes and shoes for my family to keep them warm, but I can’t buy them because they are so expensive.

For this reason, I beg of you and hope that you can support me, even with the smallest contribution, so I can provide my children with the most basic necessities of life.

I was displaced with my family to my friend's house, tears in my eyes. On the way, Salah Al-Din Street was bombed, and the Israeli occupation committed horrific massacres. By the grace of God, we survived for the first time. We lived in terror and fear. A few days later, my friend's house was bombed, and we were pulled out from under the rubble, miraculously surviving for the second time.

When my friend heard the news that we had died, he came to bid us farewell, only to find us alive by God's grace. We returned with him, but as the situation worsened and the fire belts in our area increased, we started to flee again and again, not knowing where to go next.

All what do i want from you is to help thia children to get back there life and make them smile again.

beg of you to share my story and help me continue to live and to help us to rebuild our lives again like it was befor 7th October.

Waiting your donations patintaly to make them smile,

My Warmest regards,

[silverhairedinu]

hi friends.  i haven’t been here in a while, but i find myself in a critical situation.  i recently found and decided to adopt a kitten that was in the middle of the road.  half starved, infested with fleas.  somehow, he managed not to get run over,  i’ve had him for about a month now, and we just started his kitten vaccinations.  well, tonight things got bad.  he had diarrhea, and at one point, when i thought he was lying down just to sleep, he became almost comatose.  his eyes would move if i touched near them, and he was still breathing and with a heartbeat ( albeit very low ) but he had zero energy.  could not stand, or even hold his head up.

i rushed him to our local veterinary emergency clinic.  while we don’t yet know what caused it, the biggest concern ( which caused the listlessness, at least ) was an incredibly low blood sugar of 27.  i had been checking in on him all night.  i shudder to think what would have happened if i didnt follow my gut and do so again, despite it looking like he was laying down to rest.  if left unnoticed, he could have easily died.  he’s about nine weeks old, a siamese mix, and full of life.  his name is ahri.  presently, he is being hospitalized overnight, and then i will bring him with me to work in the morning to continuing treatment.  i honestly don’t even know if he will survive the night.  or what his continued care might be.  if he needs additional emergency care beyond what the clinic i work at can do, i can’t afford it.  this is an estimate of what his treatment is right now.

i don't know whats going to happen with him. but i know that he's too young. i really want to help him, but i need help for what. if you could donate, literally ANYTHING, that would be so, so appreciated. donate if you can, reblog either way. he's had a terrible start in life, and he deserves a chance to live like a kitten should : happy, healthy, and playing with his brother. instead, he's being hospitalized over night, and came very very close to dying. he still might. but . . i don't want to give up on him. the vet techs tell me once they got his blood sugar up, though he was still weak, he was screaming at them. moving around. he's got some fight, still. so please, if you can give any amount toward his current, or continuing care, we would both be so grateful for it. i'm not usually the one asking for help. i'm usually the one helping others where and when i can. but right now . . . i can't do it alone. please help me. please help ahri. if you have any questions, you can ask. thank you so much.

paypal.me/ledovna edit : unfortunately, he did not survive the night.

[goldenhypen]

Yo yo yo emm i js saw a post like...

My sis names her chicks after ateez n txt mem. N everyday she wakes me up like "yunho is dying!! San has explosive diarrhea! Soobin is dying!!! Wooyoung too wake upp!!" And i wake up terrified everyday

What if this happened in a smau... like y/n has a popular friend, n enha or summ heard a lot bout yn from the fren n asked them to give them yn's no n contacted her. But prob is... yn don kno n thinks summ prankin her n their first convo goes down like

N.K: hello 👋🏻 this is ni-ki

Y/N: yo shit didn't he die?

N.K (freakin out): NOO? WTF

Y/N: nah im pretty sure he died

N.K (w pop. Fren): Yo YN THINKS IM DEAD??

Pop fren: nah

N.K: WHAT'CHU MEAN??

Pop fren: so like...she has baby chicks n she named em after u n das whi she talkin bout

N.K: oh.. OH

SJSNSJDNSJ IM WHEEZING poor niki loll but kinda deserved since he is a menace ✨ /lh bUT PLS ID HONESTLY LOVE TO SEE THIS W ALL THE MEMBERS THO

[sundere1181]

Sometimes i feel like there’s important facts of me an my childhood that i jist forget so here are some things that have happened to me that you might consider odd because i love talking abt myself

-when i was four i got run over by a horse drawn carriage transporting horse shit to dump with my amish grandma. I escaped with only a huge ass leg bruise bc she laid on top of me (thanks grandma u a real one 🙏)

-every single year when i was younger it was a tradition to go to the NFR every year and it was also a tradition for me to get sick and miss it every year. One of those times (also when i was four i think) i got croup, woke up in the hotel room unable to breathe, and nearly died. Also my parents waited for this to happen twice before driving me to the hospital. I now have an extreme fear of suffocating

-my dad hung me on a peg by my overalls once because i was being a brat

-this was much more recent but once i had just run in the rodeo and was getting off and my horse spooked for no reason and ping ponged off a bunch of trailers and trucks with my hanging precariously off the side of him. I also escaped that with only a large bruise (this time on my ribs)

-i have fallen off many, many horses. One memorable time was when i fell off one and slid down a fence, hitting my head on every rung, and my parents friend offered me chocolate to make me stop crying (it worked)

-ive been on diners drive ins and dives when i was seven. I said “its so good i just want to keep eating it”.

-my kindergarten teacher tried to convince my mom to put me in counseling bc i was smarter than her and kept correcting her spelling and grammar

-i grew up on an isolated ranch in Wyoming until i was thirteen (my parents were the ranch foremen and very busy and i didnt see them alot) (i used to think i had gone insane)

-we used to be ‘snowbirds’ which means VERY YEAR we would pack up our shit in our truck and car and horse trailer and move to a different state. We lived in wyoming and arizona. In wyoming we had the ranch and our house, but in arizona we stayed in a different house every single year. When we moved to az permanently when i was thirteen we moved around a lot STILL because we couldnt figure out where the fuck we wanted to live. Long story short, im really good at packing my shit and leaving. Also, on one instance of driving across the country, i stayed in the horse trailer the whole time with nothing but a few books, an ipad that died an hour in, and a chocolate milkshake. It was awesome

-the ONE year our ranch had calves, one of them got sick with deadly diarrhea i think. We named her Loretta and i slept the night with her in the scale house once. We buried her right next to where we dumped the horse shit and i found a drowned squirrel in our horses water tub to bury with her. My parents think it was a rat but i knew it was a squirrel

-one time we went to the top of the mountain that we lived right next and was owned by the ranch (we kept the heifers on it) to spread my grandpas ashes and when we got to the bottom i looked up and there was a very sooty looking tornado at the top of the mountain.

-there was this dinner and show thing we used to go to in wyoming called the bar j and we were friends with one of the guys in the band so we sat at the same table everytime. There was a space outside where kids would play and past the “restricted area” was a little stone memorial for a dead couple that i always went to whenever it got too loud.

[majestickdoodler]

Hello, my name is Zero"Marwan", I am 24 years old, currently living in the northern part of Gaza City, and I wan an English teacher. I have studied English language education at Al-Azhar universty in Gaza and i have gratuated with an average of 90.7%.

Since the morning of October 7th, 2023, our lives have been turned upside down. We have lived through the hardest days of our lives, facing displacement and homelessness. We have been forced to leave our home more than ten times since the war began. We would leave without knowing where to go.

We sought refuge in schools and relatives' homes, hoping we could return home and that this nightmare would end. But our house was bombed, and our dreams were destroyed. We became homeless and displaced.

Every day, we wake up to the sound of bombs and rockets . I lived in constant fear and terror with my family, especially when my family's house was bombed while we were taking shelter there.And in one day i have injured a very bad injurys  in my arm and my body.

We are experiencing a real famine in Gaza. I’ve gone to bed with my family many nights without dinner because there is no food available. We have had to eat animal and bird feed due to the high cost of flour just to fill the hunger of my family. Even after eating it, we all suffered from diarrhea and severe stomach pain. My children developed rashes on their bodies due to the spread of viruses and the accumulation of garbage. There is also a severe shortage of water, and even when we find it, it's not safe to drink.

My family are suffering , asking for vegetables, fruits, and eggs, but we can’t afford them because we have no income. The gas shortage has forced us to use fire for everything—cooking and baking—using plastic and pipes because firewood is so hard to find.

My family also developed jaundice, and I struggled a lot to get them better because there was no access to vegetables, fruits, or medicine. I even feared that my son might have developed polio because he already had leg problems before the war, and they worsened due to malnutrition.

Winter is coming, and we have nothing for it. I need clothes and shoes for my family to keep them warm, but I can’t buy them because they are so expensive.

For this reason, I beg of you and hope that you can support me, even with the smallest contribution, so I can provide my children with the most basic necessities of life.

I was displaced with my family to my friend's house, tears in my eyes. On the way, Salah Al-Din Street was bombed, and the Israeli occupation committed horrific massacres. By the grace of God, we survived for the first time. We lived in terror and fear. A few days later, my friend's house was bombed, and we were pulled out from under the rubble, miraculously surviving for the second time.

When my friend heard the news that we had died, he came to bid us farewell, only to find us alive by God's grace. We returned with him, but as the situation worsened and the fire belts in our area increased, we started to flee again and again, not knowing where to go next.

I beg of you to share my story and help me continue to live and to help us to rebuild our lives again like it was befor 7th October.

Waiting your donations patintaly,

My Warmest regards,

Zero"Marwan",

https://www.paypal.com/donate/?hosted_button_id=6ST5TFSRQPZNW

https://gofund.me/c87a3e71

Please donate and share 🍉❤️🕊

[chokulit]

Hello, my name is Zero"Marwan", I am 24 years old, currently living in the northern part of Gaza City, and I wan an English teacher. I have studied English language education at Al-Azhar universty in Gaza and i have gratuated with an average of 90.7%.

Since the morning of October 7th, 2023, our lives have been turned upside down. We have lived through the hardest days of our lives, facing displacement and homelessness. We have been forced to leave our home more than ten times since the war began. We would leave without knowing where to go.

We sought refuge in schools and relatives' homes, hoping we could return home and that this nightmare would end. But our house was bombed, and our dreams were destroyed. We became homeless and displaced.

Every day, we wake up to the sound of bombs and rockets . I lived in constant fear and terror with my family, especially when my family's house was bombed while we were taking shelter there.And in one day i have injured a very bad injurys  in my arm and my body.

We are experiencing a real famine in Gaza. I’ve gone to bed with my family many nights without dinner because there is no food available. We have had to eat animal and bird feed due to the high cost of flour just to fill the hunger of my family. Even after eating it, we all suffered from diarrhea and severe stomach pain. My children developed rashes on their bodies due to the spread of viruses and the accumulation of garbage. There is also a severe shortage of water, and even when we find it, it's not safe to drink.

My family are suffering , asking for vegetables, fruits, and eggs, but we can’t afford them because we have no income. The gas shortage has forced us to use fire for everything—cooking and baking—using plastic and pipes because firewood is so hard to find.

My family also developed jaundice, and I struggled a lot to get them better because there was no access to vegetables, fruits, or medicine. I even feared that my son might have developed polio because he already had leg problems before the war, and they worsened due to malnutrition.

Winter is coming, and we have nothing for it. I need clothes and shoes for my family to keep them warm, but I can’t buy them because they are so expensive.

For this reason, I beg of you and hope that you can support me, even with the smallest contribution, so I can provide my children with the most basic necessities of life.

I was displaced with my family to my friend's house, tears in my eyes. On the way, Salah Al-Din Street was bombed, and the Israeli occupation committed horrific massacres. By the grace of God, we survived for the first time. We lived in terror and fear. A few days later, my friend's house was bombed, and we were pulled out from under the rubble, miraculously surviving for the second time.

When my friend heard the news that we had died, he came to bid us farewell, only to find us alive by God's grace. We returned with him, but as the situation worsened and the fire belts in our area increased, we started to flee again and again, not knowing where to go next.

I beg of you to share my story and help me continue to live and to help us to rebuild our lives again like it was befor 7th October.

Waiting your donations patintaly,

My Warmest regards,

Zero"Marwan",

https://www.paypal.com/donate/?hosted_button_id=6ST5TFSRQPZNW

https://gofund.me/c87a3e71

I am sorry I cannot donate, sharing is all i can do for now

Gofundme:

$125/50,000 USD

This campaign has been up since AUGUST and has only recieved ONE DONATION from 2 MONTHS AGO

Paypal:

[makosgotmoxie]

Critical Role Campaign 3 Episode 6 Quote List 

"I'd love to see your insides."

"What the fuck is up with that?" 

"I'd rather be here with you drinking this diarrhea water looking thing than be with my family."

"To Prince Dorian!"

"Why would you use the word cocked for that?" "Why wouldn't you?"

"That's not true. I deeply love Imogen."

"Sorry to bust in on your what the fuck is up with that."

"When Laudna came to town it was the first time I'd felt peace for a really long time."

"Are the others you talked about .. oatmeal and pussy? .. are they the only other ones like you?"

"Why would you start the day with a sourpuss?"

"Terrifying, great."

"Are you dead? What the fuck is up with that?"

"Well, I definitely died."

"The Briarwoods?" "Mhm. One of them kind of pops in my head every now and then."

"But you're okay being dead? It doesn't cause you sadness anymore?" "This is the weirdest fucking game I have ever played."

"You are pretty trashed, so I'll say disadvantage." "Not gonna need it, that's a one."

"Oh .. oh, Laudna."

"When everyone else goes to sleep, I think I'm just gonna hang myself upside down because I don't think this is good."

"I was not built with a poop chute of any sort."

"Ah, you're like the cool side of a pillow." "You just hear my shoulder dislocate."

"I'm just lying."

"Magneto helmets for all."

"Nothing is worse than being in uncomfortable circumstances without your moisturizer."

"Wow. Short guy, low blows."

"Oh well that's where I draw the line. I don't like sharing things."

"You are nothing if not an interesting way to start my day."

"Oh, it's not a real doctor. It's just a bird that's a friend of mine that I named Dr. Nesbitt."

"Are you redacting things." "Yup."

"It's a compromise. No one's happy."

"I don't know that kind of feels genuine as fuck."

"Beware of the theater."

"The Sweet .. Bell .. peppers."

"I love Fearne so much."

"Do you need any ushers?"

"I'm going to try to take the 10 platinum out of his pocket."

"I love dumb."

"You got a brother?" "I do." "And you got a letter?" "I do." "And you're dead?!" *preens*

[lilkermit14]

Lavender & Mint

Fem!reader x Pero Tovar 

Synposis: In the conventional village of Cullfield lived an unconventional woman who served as an apothecary for the townsfolk. Stubborn and set in her ways, the woman of three tens remains unmarried and childless and plans to continue as such for the rest of her life, much to the horror and confusion of the village. But this unconventional woman has some surprises in store for her when an unconventional man named Pero Tovar rides into town, an event that will change both her and his plans forever—and may flip Cullfield upside down too.

Notes: Idk why I kept mentioning poop complications this chapter but I’m sorry and enjoy. It’s been a while but the CHAPTER is here. Please reblog!!!!

General Warnings: minor injuries, slow-burn, eventual smut, blood, childbirth

For this chapter: Non-sexual references to poop, mention pregnancy, murder, implicit brief reference to infanticide or child abandonment, pre-marital pregnancy and it’s complications in the 1400s, religious “morals”. 

Chapter 5: Garlic 

Last chapter // Next chapter

“When was the last time you passed bowels, Mister Ashdown?” you inquire, pressing on the old man’s stomach knowing you have found the root cause of his stomach issues. He blinks for a moment thinking as he lays on your observation table, before telling you, “quite some time I’m afraid.”

“I see,” you move your hands away putting your hands on your hips, “well, it seems that you just have a case of constipation––burdensome but not something hard to fix or that will have you laying on your deathbed.”

“You sure?” he asks, almost confused, moving to rise up from the table by himself only for you to come to his assistance. You clarify yourself, “Yes, you have many signs that point to it. It can be caused by a lack of competitive foods in your diet and is more likely with old age.”

“I’m not that old,” He interjects, but you compete, “Yes, but you're old enough for a blockage sir––you’ll be glad to know you’ll live to be truly old as long the burden is treated.”

He huffs now in a sitting position with legs dangling from the table, “so what do you have so i’ll shit.”

You huff at his language, “standard garlic will help move the process along, and I’m suggesting you make sure to eat more greens and berries to clear your system.”

You always assumed that you were let free to discuss any matters with your patients when they were the only ones in the shop, as no one else resided in your residence besides you. But that arrangement had changed and you were not the only one that resided in your home, “If my cock and bowels stop working just have someone put me out of my misery.”

You turn rigid and scandalized to see the face of Pero Tovar standing in your back entrance of the shop—entered unbeknownst to you through quiet steps and a lack of clear view. Mister Ashdown has no qualms defending himself, “I’m only five tens and if my cock doesn’t work how is my wife pregnant?”

You want to scream having to hear this conversation and did certainly not want to be reminded of the conversations you were subjected to by Farrah Ashdown. When the woman at four tens and five found out she was pregnant she spared no expense in telling you how it happened. You opted to rush him along before you could get his account of what he does with his wife, “okay sir here’s your supply get going now.”

“Enjoy the shit,” you hear Pero say and before mister ashdown can respond he is out your door. You turn to Pero fury and rage evident on your face as you are prepared to let the flames of hell loose on him. All he has is a stupid look on his face as he lets out the word, “what?”

“You bastard,” you begin pointing your finger at him moving towards him with menace in your voice towards a man that stands unbothered, “you do not talk to ANY of my clients in such manner especially in my shop.”

“Why is that hermosa? I would be rude to that man outside of your business, what makes your apothecary different?” He queries again with that name, only increasing your anger and distaste for him at the moment. With clenched teeth, you answer him, “I don’t care what you say to Mister Ashdown in town, but my shop is a place of respect––a place where anyone can come for health problems even if they are embarrassing. I want people to know they won’t be judged here because if they feel like they will be, they will come when it’s too late and I can’t do anything for them.”

Pero raises his brow at you, but lets you continue your rant uninterrupted, “When my mother was still alive, a young woman at ten and six came to us complaining of diarrhea, something she was embarrassed to talk about because it was gross and she did not want suitors to find out. Turns out she had sickness from a miasma––we took one look down the town well and discovered a deer had fallen in and died overnight.”

“That was lucky,” he comments, still invested in your story despite the vile nature of talking about excretion. You continue, “Yes, and we may not have caught it so soon if she didn’t come to us. The sickness is fast acting, in hours many more villagers could have been sick, but it was only her––and she lived.”

“Lived?” you smile at his question feeling pride at the healing powers your mom had and hope you live up to, “Yes, the sickness causes dehydration quickly but if you keep the person well hydrated and area clean to prevent reinfection––they will live. This summer she gave birth to her third child at my aid.”

“So their trust is important to you?” you give him a simple nod, glad he is understanding what you were asking of him. You turn to clean up the materials you had brought out to examine Mister Ashdown, not realizing that Pero was not done with questions, “Like how that woman came to you the other day crying in distress?”

You freeze––you had really thought the interest in Mariam had ended when William had first asked you about her the day after asking if she was okay. You nodded and told him it was just feminine needs and didn’t serve much interest in men, something that usually turned men away from asking questions. Well not Pero Tovar I guess, “Why was she crying?”

“It’s a complicated matt––”

“Things of safety are something I have to worry about you know,” He interjects, and you turn your head looking at him to see something serious cross his face, “I have to keep everyone in this village safe––you in particular hermosa––and I want to know if theres something you need to tell me.”

“Part of gaining trust is not telling personal information,” you counter, pulling together to formulate a lie, “It’s nothing of safety she was upset about something––she’s a friend of sorts to me.”

You can tell he doesn’t buy it––he can probably pull the full story together even though you doubt he’s heard a single thing about Mariam’s husband beating her––but he accepts, slouching and learning against a table in thought, “William and I may go for a short hunt––there's not much action in this town I’m afraid and we could use some fresh game.”

You nod, “If you catch any pigeon, I know how to handle it so it's not gamey.”

He huffs, “We're not very good hunters I’m afraid, so you’ll probably only get that or rabbit.”

–––––––––––––––––––

Pero Tovar had useful traits to him––like getting you pigeons––but he was mostly an annoyance. His mere presence always had you on edge, as you waited for something, something from him. It was usually something he said but if not it was his scent or stench rather of pine and something that was him. It was also his sloppy manner, the way he seemed raised with no table manners as he ate all your meals. He spoiled Mite, petting him and feeding him table scraps much to your despair. He was also too loud, his boots filling up the cottage and shop with noise, something that never usually happened.

You lent some time today to make more bread for the household, settling at your dining table and working the necessary ingredients for dough together. Mite lays in the corner, not doing his job as per usual and watching you with some sort of interest in the mannerisms of bread making, but he was likely just hoping for more food in the future. Kneading dough you begin to imagine the dough is Pero kneading your frustration into it. You press and it is his stupid broad shoulders that take up too much space. You pull, it’s the curls on the nape of his neck that are too unruly and untidy. You slam it down, it’s that stupid smile that appears on his face when you have entertained him. God you hate Pero Tovar.

“You may want to stop before you overwork the dough sweetheart,” You stop and see Mildred Becker staring at you with an amused look on her face. You huff Jesus, what does she want, “Sorry for my state, I didn’t hear you enter.”

“Don’t worry I understand too well––I always work out my anger into the dough,” you chuckle a little thinking about how a woman with too many children works out anger the same way as you––you definitely hate Pero Tovar, “I just stopped by because I’ve been meaning to talk to you about something.”

You perk up, “Is Cateline suffering from baby blues again.”

“No, No thank the lord––we’ve been watching over her better this time,” Mildred rounds off, and you remember despite the grievances she gives you, she is a good mother to her children. She was the first to notice that something was wrong with her daughter after the birth and came to you to talk about it. From there Cateline was able to recover and enjoy motherhood, “Something with your house guest Pero Tovar has come to my attention.”

“What did he do,” You ask, prepared to beat Pero Tovar with your broom, but Mildred settles you, “nothing he did, just something someone is doing around him.”

You raise your brow at her beckoning her to continue, “You know Stanislava Rolfe?”

“Of course,” you affirm, surprised she is asking you such a question when you have treated everyone in Cullfield five times over. Mildred continues, “Yes well, She has begun to work at the Inn as a barmaid––she did well with charming Balthasar I guess.”

You were wondering why a poor farmer's daughter’s career path interested you, but you didn’t interject, “I happened to take a quick ale there with my husband, when I noticed something with her and Pero Tovar. You see she appeared extra flirtatious with him––and although barmaids usually are flirty with men in hopes for extra coin, it was more intentional.”

You frown, how could such a beautiful young girl be interested in such a disgusting brute, “Why is she interested in him?”

“Who knows? Many of the girls around Cullfield were excited to see unfamiliar battle-hardened men I supposed,” She ponders for a moment, “all we do know is that she is likely interested in him.”

“I don’t think he is interested in taking a wife,” You contest, brushing aside that Pero would have feelings for the young girl of two tens. Mildred just gives you a hardened stare, “He doesn’t have to be interested in matrimony to want something from her.”

Oh

“Was he showing interest back?” you dig trying to figure out the full extent of what you are formulating must be a whirlwind romance. Mildred hums, “no I suppose not, but sometimes men take persistent interest as a way to have a good time.”

You bite your lip remembering that Pero did not fornicate with prostitutes but barmaids, and feel a ball of ache and pain in your stomach at the thought. Mildred instates, “I came to you about this because I want you to try to stop it.”

“Stop it?”

“Yes, make it clear he is to not have such guests,” Mildred explains, and you can tell by her tone and expression you are in for some sort of story, “You know well enough that things go arigh when an unmarried woman gets pregnant, right.”

“Of course,” you remember the chaos that erupted in families when one of their daughters ended up pregnant, and the hasty weddings that came from it. But Mildred had a different story, “although most of the time it gets swept under the rug with a quick marriage and everyone just chooses to ignore it––horrid things can happen when there's not one.”

Mildred sits down at the nearby table, in clear thought of something dark and you go to sit down at a nearby chair, “When I was about ten and eight, and old enough to understand these things, a girl was taken advantage of by a soldier in our village. She was ten and six, and him far older so he should have had the wisdom not to mess with her. What mattered was after it happened, he left with his troop and was never seen in my home village again. She got pregnant, and tried to hide it at first––her mom was dead and she had no older sisters or aunts to go to, so she was afraid to go to her father. When it became too obvious, hate inspired awful things in the leaders of the village, and by the time she gave birth it accumulated.”

Mildred takes a moment to pause, emotions brewing inside her and you feel yourself frozen in place, “she tried to talk to them, pleading, saying he pressured her––persuaded her, but they all pointed and said witch and condemned her son too. She was burn’t at the stake, and her son––well he was never seen again.”

A pause fills the air as you sit in shock, digesting what Mildred has told you, “I’m sorry you had to witness that.”

Mildred huffs, “I’m sorry too, I made sure to get a husband that would get me out of that village and landed a good one on the way––I had seen what that village did to women and children for the sake of moral value and did not intend to stay so my daughters could see too. Adultery is a two person crime that only one party, the feminine one, receives punishment for.”

“So that's why Pero and Stanislava are of such concern to you?” You assume, and Mildred nods, “Although I think Cullfield is of better standing, I don’t desire to find out what they would do if such a case erupted. The girl may be doing this because she intends to capture a man with a better job, but mercenaries rest for a few women and not those of ten and eight.”

“I can understand her intentions I suppose,” you contemplate, believing that she doesn’t hold much true interest in him, but for a better life. Mildred hums, “so is there a chance you can talk to Pero about it?”

“I already established that he is to not bring guests into my home, and I doubt they would find a secluded enough place otherwise,” you reassure, standing up, “I can even remind him today if you would like.”

“That would be good,” Mildred agrees, joining you in standing and allowing you to guide her to the door, “be on the lookout too if you see her come preying––even though he lacks true interest.”

“I will,” you say, and somewhere in your heart you feel prepared to beat Stanislava Rolfe with your broom instead of Pero.

________________

Gardening was no easy task but it was the most necessary task the runner of an apothecary and a household had. Today your tending to crops was more focused on your food supply rather than collecting the necessary ingredients to keep your shop running. You're pleased to see that the last of your harvest grew well, and know that your winter stock will last even with your house guest. You had already pulled out all the carrots, and beets, and had shucked the vines wounding your house of beans and brussel sprouts. You were now left to work at the tough vines of the gourds and squash, planning on leaving the single pumpkin for Pero to handle––who should be on his way home from helping Balthasar with something at his inn.

Standing up with the final gourd in hand––you see something that fills you with immediate displeasure and sickens you to your core. Pero is walking up to your house pursued by Stanislava. You don’t quite know why you feel this angry at him; maybe it’s because you gave him explicit reminders on conduct or maybe––something else. Seeing the near, and well hearing Stanislava, you attempt to think fast to try to get her to leave. Greeting them both in an unnatural kind manner, “Pero, Stanislava, greetings.”

Pero gives you an immediate strange look while his shadow is oblivious and greets you back, “I was just telling Pero this wonderful stor––”

“Oh I must ask how is your rash healing up,” You feel like clapping your hands over your lips the moment the words fly out of your mouth. Stanislava stops in her tracks staring at you blankly, “what?”

“The one I gave you the ointment for––on your groin,” Oh my God what were you doing.

Stanislava turns bright red, “Good thank you––I––I have things to tend to at home, good evening you two.”

Stanislava hurries off, and an amused smile erupts on Pero’s face, “thank you for finally scaring that crow off––she’s been yapping my ear off with nonsense for weeks––I guess you're my scarecrow.”

“Excuse me?” scarecrow, you were going to kill this man. He smiles, a genuine smile, “Yes you scared off my crow––like a scarecrow would. Plus you're covered in leaves right now.”

“Do not call me that”

“Fine mi espantapájaros”

“I swear I’ll smother you in your sleep”

“Is that a true promise for you? Like how you promised not to tell customers private information yet just shouted about the crow’s crotch rash,” at that your body works on it’s own, taking the gourd in your hand and flinging it at Pero’s chest. It was a magnificent shot, and caused the vegetable to break and splatter it’s internal organs onto Pero’s chest and neck. Pero steps back from the impact and looks down on the goop he’s now covered in, “Now, no good espantapájaros does that.”

You press your palm to your face, “Just cut the pumpkin for me and bring it inside, you could use a good bath anyway, your stench is disgusting.”

“I do not smell,” he retorts, and you ignore him, bringing inside your harvest. You really do hate Pero Tovar.

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

Apothecary’s feelings––hate or nah yall?

Garlic is use to treat a lot of ailments in Arab traditional medicine, including  heart disease, high blood pressure, arthritis, toothache, infections, and––as seen in this fic––constipation. Listen, I know the constipation part is true because I ate a pesto made with raw garlic and LORD did I shit. Anything else, not quite sure but hey worth a shot if you are desperate. 

It is also seen as an immune booster for colds and coughs––in fact if you are congested from a cold putting a clove of garlic in each nostril can clear that shit OUT.  

Garlic is also believed to help asthma symptoms. IDK if it actually is true but that’d be iconic because my mom loves garlic and she has asthma. 

Garlic is my favorite seasoning. I put it in my soup. I put it in my eggs. I put it in my ramen. I put it in my burgers. I put it in my cooch––

taglist:

@poenariuniverse @harleyamidala @yespolkadotkitty @storiesofthefandomlovers @babybelou @legally-a-bastard @computeringturtle @clydesducktape @sixties-loser @buckysalefty @april-14-blog @prettylittlegoldfish @softpedropascal @maybege

[totheidiot]

intro post :)))

hm okay so most basic information about meee. the name is arian, my pronouns are strictly he/him. i am a sex-averse asexual (not sex-repulsed. keep that in mind because i do interact with suggestive content like a sex joke or a smut fanfiction sometimes. so be wary of that please !!). also on the arospec, specifically panromantic. i like to write A Lot and you will know from my posts. i am regrettably not a funny person either. hmm i think that's all !!

fandoms !

stranger things - all posts tagged under #the monster show that got really popular - don't exactly post so much about it? you might see this tag only when i might be engaging with my st mutuals or when i post a fanfiction update

the magnus archives - all posts tagged under #rusty quill presents: this man has too many eyes. - a tag you shall see very often !! have not begun s5 (will touch that probably, next month?) but got hugely spoilered for it.

the magnus protocol - all posts tagged under #rusty quill presents: the lack of eyes is causing me unease. - i am in the place with most of the fandom ! waiting for the next episode that is.

the goldfinch - all posts tagged under #the gay bird book - you will probably never see it now, still worth checking out my old posts? i don't even remember if they were good or not.

the hitchhiker's guide to the galaxy - all posts tagged under #crash into the 42nd answer - live laugh love 80s sci-fi comedy series that forever changed my style of humor.

death note - all posts tagged under #something about death and a notebook. or whatever. she dies of diarrhea in three minutes. - enjoy the lawlight brainrot.

tags !

#🍂 arian's shit : all text post that i wrote myself ! every post i didn't reblog, all of that !! even some reblogs are tagged with this if i add a lot of my own thoughts to another post.

#🪐 arian's asks : my replies to asks i get :) anons are tagged with #those who have no name and the hate anons are tagged with #those who deserve no name i only got one hate anon even that was in my old blog but it's best to be prepared ! if it's not an anon ask, i will tag it with the asker's username or if they are mutual, they get a special tag !

#📷 arian's friends <33 : all the interaction with my mutuals and friends <3

#📝 arian writes fanfiction : pretty self explanatory !! all the times i mention my fanfiction !

☁ arian's very complicated and strange dreams : a very miscellaneous tag ! basically talking about my dreams

#🌌 arian contemplates his universe : textposts written by me that are not really connected to a specific fandom. posts might get a bit personal/random/vent-y

fanfiction !

the goldfinch

things we don't talk about . : xandra hears strange, loud and suspicious noises from theo’s bedroom. upon closer inspection, she discovers that boris is staying the night. the next morning, she confronts them about it. 1/1 , tw references to alcohol, implications of underage sex, internalized homophobia. not my best work at all, but you can read this one !!

six of crows

a fool's game : modern era hs au where the crows are hired by their principal van eck to steal the rival school fjerda high's mascot before the games. 6/? abandoned. tws of six of crows really. don't read this one, abandoned and i don't know how to even feel about this.

stranger things

i got your letter (hope you feel better than i do) : will gets sent a series of anonymous love letters in his locker. mike's been awfully quiet about this. 2/2, tw internalized homophobia. i don't really like this one but it's been very well-received so you can give this shot if you !

your apparition passes through me : that's the masterpost, everything you need to know :)) DO read this one, this is still very much ongoing <3

we both matter (don't we?) : mike asks max if she could go to California with him on spring break. that sounds like a bad idea, but she goes for it. el is unhappy in lenora; she is not in love with one of her first friends, but she is painfully in love with the certain red-haired skateboarder girl, who makes her laugh. 1/2 i have no idea if there will be a continuation? this was really good in my opinion, kind of sucks that it didn't get any love :((

upcoming !

stranger things

two byler fanfiction, both coincidentally i'll be co-writing with mutuals :). one of them is a eeaao au, written with @qulizalfos and the other is very longfic, slightly crack fic written with @iamtheoneandonlyever that documents mike and will's life from college, all the way to their fifties.

the magnus archives

আমি তো চক্ষুর বস্ত্র ধরে / দেখতে পাই অতীত, ভবিষ্যত, পৃথিবীর অধ্যাত্ম। : a character study of jonathan sims, before being the Archivist. all written entirely in bangla, bangladeshi!jon obviously, a focus on his language, his grandmother and his culture. only like two people in the fandom probably can read this.

here are my side-blogs :)) : @incaseimakeit-daily and @16-04-16-daily . also, credits for the dividers goes to @//saradika-graphics :))

[fandomrewrites]

Season 3a; Episode 7: Currents

Hello all! I really like the way this chapter came out so I hope you all like it too. As always constructive criticism is appreciated! If you want to be added to the taglist, please let me know.

Season 3a; Episode 7: Currents

Pairings: Scott McCall x Twin Sister, Lydia Martin x Best Friend, Isaac Lahey x Reader

Warnings: Character death

Word Count: 3,083

Season 3a masterlist

Scott and I enter the hospital, bringing mom some dinner. As the doors open we both scan the area, looking for our mom in the crowd of people. We quickly spot her just as she starts speaking, "Oh, thank God. I'm starving."

She grabs the bag out of my hands and hurries to the reception counter to open it. Scott and I follow her and she turns around, "Sorry. Sorry."

She gives us both a kiss on the cheek then continues, "Thank you for bringing dinner."

"Of course, mom." I say, a smile on my face.

"Everything okay?" Scott asks.

"Except for half of the victims of a ten car-pile up being rerouted to us from downtown and the ER Attending not answering any of his pages? Yeah, I'm okay. Slightly, somewhat okay." Mom answers.

"What does not answering pages mean?"

"It means no one can find him. Now we're waiting for the on-call to get here." Scott and I exchange a look at our moms words just as a patient walks up, clutching her stomach.

"Miss? Excuse me? I could really use something for the pain." The woman says.

"I know and I'm sorry, but giving you something could actually complicate things. We really need to wait for the doctor." Mom turns back to the receptionist, "How far out is Dr. Hilyard?"

"Ten minutes." The receptionist replies.

I watch as the injured woman takes a seat and Scott follows her, presumably to take some of her pain. I turn my head away from the two to scan the bustling waiting room. 

My attention is quickly brought to the entrance as the doors bang open. Ethan, looking rather panicked, is half carrying Danny, "I need help!"

I sprint over and grab Danny's other arms, wrapping it around my shoulders. Scott and my mom follow closely behind. Scott quickly turns to address the Alpha that brought Danny in, "What did you do to him?"

"Nothing. He said he was having chest pains and trouble breathing. But it just kept getting worse."  We guide Danny over to a seat, mom begins looking him over to see if what's wrong. 

I look on in worry as Ethan asks, "What is it? Is he dying?"

Scott and I quickly snap at him, "Shut up."

"I said I didn't do anything." Ethan begins, trying to defend himself.

"All of you back off." My mom scolds, instantly shutting us up. She goes back to doing her check up, "Okay, that's not good." She then turns to ask the receptionist once more, "How much longer on Dr. Hilyard?" 

The receptionist raises her hands indicating that she doesn't know. "What is it? What's wrong?" I ask.

"His larynx is shifting to the side. I think it's a tension pneumothorax." She then calls out, "Can we get a gurney over here!" 

Right after the words leave her mouth Danny lurches forward. He throws up white berries as we all watch in horror. Ethan whispers out, "Mistletoe."

A nurse quickly brings a gurney over and helps my mom bring him into a room. Ethan, Scott, and I all follow them, "Can you three please get back to the waiting room?"

None of us turn to leave but we make sure my mom has enough room to work as the other nurse leaves to help more patients, "Where is everyone?" Ethan asks.

"It's a full house tonight. They're attending to other patients."

"How can we help?" Scott asks.

"You can't. His lungs collapsed."

I sucked in a breath at my mom's words, "That sounds really bad." Scott states.

"And his heart is being pushed against his chest cavity."

"That sounds much worse." Ethan says.

"Mom, please don't let him die." I say, tears in my eyes as I watch one of my best friends struggle to live.

"He's not going to." She yanks open a drawer and pulls out a needle, "Scott, grab that tape." She motions to Ethan, "Take those scissors and cut his shirt open."

Ethan grabs Danny's shirt and rips it open, "Works for me." Mom says. She presses gently over Danny's upper chest, trying to find the right injection point. "He's not breathing, mom." I say, panic evident in my voice.

"I know, I know." She takes a breath then inserts the needle into Danny's chest. Air bubbles up inside the syringe as she aspirates Danny's lung. His body finally relaxes as he begins to breathe normally. I let out a breath as Danny's eyes blink open. 

He locks eyes with my mom and whispers, "Thank you."

My mom smiles at him, "No problem." She then looks up at me, Scott, and Ethan. "What?"

"That was awesome." Scott says.

"It's no big deal. It's nothing really." She shrugs off the compliment.

 *_*_*_*_*_*

 Scott and I make our way outside and get ready to leave. We don't make it very far though because Ethan exits the hospital and quickly makes his way over to us. "I know you're not going to believe me, but I didn't do anything."

"All I know is the minute you got here, you went right after Danny. And your brother went after Lydia." Scott replies.

"We're not going to hurt him."

"Yeah? And why should we believe you?" I ask, raising an eyebrow.

He takes a careful look around then steps closer, "Because we knew one of them was going to be important to you. And now we know it's Lydia."

I scoff, "That's rich. Danny is one of my best friends. And Lydia is my best friend." I then take a step closer to Ethan so that we are practically chest to chest, "And if you or anyone else in your pack even thinks about hurting one of them, you'll wish you were dead."

"What are you going to do? We're Alpha's." Ethan says, glaring down at me.

"Yeah, but I'm faster and smarter." My eyes start to glow white but before I can act on my threat Scott lightly slaps my arm. I back away and look behind Ethan, finally noticing what got Scott's attention.

Ethan follows our gazes to lock his eyes on an empty car slowly moving across the parking lot. It comes to a halt as it hits another car, setting off it's alarm.

We rush over, Scott quickly opening the door. He reaches over picking something out of the car, "What is it?" Ethan asks.

Scott raises his hand to show us a dead moth. 

A little while later Ethan was gone and Stiles, his dad, and multiple other cops were at the scene. "Hold one. Were they both in the car?" Sheriff Stilinski asks, clearly confused.

"No, dad, they're trying to tell you it's two different kidnappings. Two doctors. Both gone." Stiles replies.

"Dr. Hilyard's car. The on-call doctor. The ER Attending is the one that never showed up." My mom answers.

Stiles notices that his dad has a dazed look on his face as he looks at the accident and witnesses gathered. "Dad?" Stiles asks, snapping him out of his trance.

"Sorry. Melissa, let me just focus on getting your story first. Boys, (Y/N), give us a second."

The three of us back away to let our parents talk. "These are definitely sacrifices, right?" Scott asks.

"And it's one Deaton mentioned. Healers." Stiles confirms.

"But what about Danny? He was throwing up mistletoe. That's not a coincidence. And if he hadn't been with Ethan, he probably would've died. How is Danny a Healer?" Scott questions, confused about why Danny was attacked.

"He's not. It has to be something else. Maybe he knows something or got in the way somehow. " I answer. I look at Stiles to see if he has any input but notice he's watching something behind Scott and I.

We both turn our heads to see his dad on the phone. "Can you hear?" Stiles asks.

Both Scott and I quickly listen in and nod, "They found a body." Scott answers.

 *_*_*_*_*_*

 The next morning I woke up to my mom shaking me awake and calling out, "Hello? Get up?" I blinked my eyes open from my spot next to her on the bed and turned to look at Scott and Isaac. "Boys!" She calls, louder than before. 

Scott lays sleeping in a chair and Isaac is propped up against the wall. Both of them jolt awake at my mom's yell. Once she sees that we are all awake she asks, "What do you think you're doing?"

"We were watching over you." Isaac answers.

"We wanted to make sure you weren't the third sacrifice." Scott continues.

"But all three of you were asleep." My mom replies.

Scott turns his attention to Isaac, "You were on watch last."

"I thought you were on watch last." Isaac replies.

"No, you were on watch last." Scott insists.

Isaac pauses then reluctantly nods, "I might have been on watch last."

"My heroes. Didn't you say they're all doctors? I haven't had an M.D. recently added to the end of my name so I think I'm in the clear." Mom says.

"The Darach is targeting healers. That doesn't mean just doctors." I speak for the first time, making all of their heads turn to me.

Scott continues, "And you were definitely a healer last night."

"Yeah, but I'm not going to be anyone's human sacrifice today. Now all three of you, get your butts to school."

We reluctantly leave her room to get ready for the day. Though Isaac and I both elect to get dressed in something comfortable that we can move easily in, since we both decided to skip school with Boyd and help Derek with the Alpha pack.

 *_*_*_*_*_*

 Boyd, Isaac and I slide open the door to Derek's loft. We step inside and not even a minute later Derek calls to us, "Get back to school."

"We can't. The three of us are incredibly, unbelievably sick." Isaac answers.

"With what? Brain damage?" Derek retorts, finally coming into view.

"I have a migraine. (Y/N) developed a rash and Boyd has explosive diarrhea."

Derek tries desperately not to smile but fails, meeting us in the middle of the loft. 

"We're here to protect you." Boyd says.

"You're here to protect me? I'm in trouble."

My mouth falls open in mock shock, "I'm offended, Der. Did you really think we would come here without a plan? Boyd here, happens to be a bit of a genius."

Derek smirks but doesn't say anything as he watches Boyd place the bag he was carrying down. He kneels beside it to unzip it as he begins talking, "I thought about the time Gerard had me and Erica tied up, hooked to wires that were pushing electrical currents through us. So I wondered how we could do something like that, but on a bigger scale."

Derek reaches into the bag and pulls out a coil of rope. He raises an eyebrow as he asks, "What kind of plan is this?"

"Actually, I'd call it more of a trap."

I move to unravel a hose so water can start pouring onto the floor of the loft. Boyd begins to explain the plan to Derek, "In a pool of electrified water, it can take only fifty milliamps to kill a normal human. Less power than it takes to turn on a light bulb."

"That's comforting." Derek states, looking down at the water starting to pool around his feet.

"If we disable the circuit interrupter in the building's electrical room, the current will keep coming. And anyone who steps foot in here gets a pretty shocking surprise."

"Especially someone barefoot." Isaac finishes.

Derek looks at the three of us, a proper smile beginning to form.

 *_*_*_*_*_*

 I step up to a platform raised above the floor as I take a call from Scott and wait for the boys to finish setting up the trap, "What's going on?" I ask him.

"Deaton was taken by the Darach. We're trying to figure out where he is. He called me at school and said that I was the only one that would be able to find him."

"It sounds like you're panicking. Breathe Scott. You'll find him, alive. Okay?"

"What if I don't, (Y/N/N)?"

"You can't think like that alright?"

"Is everything okay at Derek's?"

"Yeah, the plan is coming together fine. But don't worry about us. Just focus on finding Deaton." I hang up and quickly dial Stiles. "Do you have any clues on where Deaton is?"

"Not yet. Lydia has no clue how to use her powers or how to find him." He answers.

"Well maybe because Deaton isn't dead or close to death? Her powers tend to lead her to the dead bodies. Maybe it's a good sign that she doesn't know where he is."

"I guess we can hope. But the goal is to find him before he's dead."

"Yeah, I know that. Just keep me updated, alright?"

"Yeah, you too. Stay safe, (Y/N)." We hang up just as Boyd is finishing the trap.

He kneels down and reaches out to touch the water, "Woah, what are you doing?" Derek asks.

"You can test to see if the water is electrified with the back of your hand. If there's a current, it'll kick your hand up. Do it with the front, the muscles clench and your hand goes under." Boyd explains. He reaches out and his hand snaps back. He mutters out, "Still hurts, though."

"You think it could kill them?" Isaac questions.

"I hope so."

 *_*_*_*_*_*

 As night falls Derek starts to check his phone. "Cora?" Isaac asks.

"She was supposed to be back by now." Derek replies.

I open my mouth to speak but quickly close it. I squeeze my eyes shut then choke out, "Something's wrong. We're in trouble."

"What do you mean? (Y/N/N), are you okay?" Isaac asks, concern laced in his voice.

I don't answer, instead I keep my eyes trained on the water. On pure instinct I take a step forward. "(Y/N)-" The three boys called out to me, shocked that I was taking a step into the electrified water.

They get cut off though when nothing happens. Before anyone can comment the rest of the power goes out, "What do we do now?" Isaac asks.

Derek jumps down from the platform, landing beside me, "We fight."

"There's no back exit?" I ask.

The Alpha looks at me, "No. We need to do this."

I bite my lip and shake my head, "It's not going to end well for us. I can sense it."

Derek keeps his eyes locked on mine, "You're going to be alright, I won’t let anything happen to you."

“It’s not me I’m worried about.” I answer.

Isaac and Boyd join Derek and I in the middle of the loft. A few seconds later the door swings open. Kali steps forward, "I'm going to be honest, Derek. When Ennis died, I thought to myself I would just go for it. Find you and kill you wherever you stand. Then I remembered how you surround yourself with these teenagers. Hiding behind them. And I thought what's a girl gotta do to get you alone? That's when I found out that I've got some real competition."

Ethan and Aiden step out from behind her. They drag Ms. Blake between them. She looks terrified, "You and me Derek. Or they tear her apart. What do you say? Think you can beat me one-on-one?" Kali asks.

Derek steps forward, eyes blazing red, "I'm going to rip your throat out. With my teeth."

Isaac, Boyd, and I all stand back watching nervously as Derek and Kali fight one another. Boyd texts Cora, letting her know what is happening. I, on the other hand, refuse to text Scott or Stiles knowing that they are busy trying to find Deaton and not wanting them to worry about us. 

Kali quickly gains the upper hand, Boyd, Isaac and I step forward to help though Derek quickly shakes his head, "No!"

We step back to our places, "Do you still have that sense that something bad is about to happen?" Isaac whispers to me.

"Uh huh." I simply answer, nodding my head.

A few moments later Boyd nods to me and Isaac, indicating that it was time to take action.

Isaac and I rush to the twins, who instinctively let go of Ms. Blake to defend themselves. Boyd rushes towards Kali at the same time.

Rather than attacking, Isaac rushes towards our teacher to get her out of harm's way. I make a move for Aiden, moving faster than he does and scratching his stomach with my claws.

Before he or Ethan can attack Kali calls from behind me, "Take him!"

They run over to Derek to grab the weakened Alpha by the arms. I ran back at them attacking Aiden once more, this time he was prepared though. He throws me hard into the floor, my head knocking against the ground. 

I lay dazed for a minute, sitting up just in time to see Kali drop Boyd onto Derek's claws. "I'm giving you until the next full moon, Derek. Make the smart choice. Join the pack. Or next time I kill all of you." Kali spits out.

She turns, walking past Isaac and Ms. Blake and out of the loft. Ethan and Aiden right on her heels.

"It's okay." Boyd whispers to Derek.

"It's not." Derek whispers back, voice cracking and tears in his eyes.

"It's all okay."

"I'm sorry."

Boyd shakes his head and weakly smiles at his Alpha, "The full moon. That feeling, that was worth it." He pauses, "You know there's a lunar eclipse coming up Erica and I were wondering what happens to us. If it makes us stronger."

Derek doesn't get the chance to answer him. Boyd falls back into the water, no longer breathing.

I hear footsteps at the loft's entrance but can't rip my eyes away from Boyd's lifeless body. Finally Stiles stands in front of me breaking me from my thoughts. He reaches out a hand that I gratefully take. 

Once I'm standing properly he asks, "Are okay? Are you hurt?"

I shake my head, "No? To which question?" He asks once more.

"Both." I whisper, a dazed look present on my face.

He instantly pulls me into a tight embrace, trying to comfort me.

~~~~~~~~~~

Taglist:  @crazy-fan-101 @rogershoe

[krizaland]

If you’re up for writing some angst could you do a one shot about zim finding out irkens live much longer than humans and now he has to face the fact that his favorite human y/n is not going to be around forever? If you want to write a good ending you could have zim find away to grow a irken body for y/n to upload herself into when the time comes, whatever you want to do. Thank you and have a good day.

Oooh! Interesting! I think I can do that!

NOTE: I made myself cry so sorry if this seems rushed.

Long, long, ago, a large star emerged from the depths of the universe.  The star remained whole for centuries. Until the day, a meteorite smashed into the star, splitting it into two.

One half of the star remained in place while the other was sent spiraling into the never ending sea of countless galaxies.

Ever since that fateful day, each star piece vowed to search the multiverse for their missing half no matter the cost.

The star pieces soon died out and were reborn into their next lives.

With each new life, the star pieces always crossed paths. However, their reunion would always be cut short by the cold hands of death.

Nevertheless the star pieces always managed to find each other.  

A thousand years had passed and the star pieces had been reborn as two young Irkens, You and Zim.

As you set foot in The Academy, you smiled brightly and chirped,

“I’m so excited to be in class with you guys! I know we’re all gonna be the best of friends!”

The moment those words left your lips, Zim felt his PAK spark.

The longer you and Zim trained together the closer the two of you became.

Soon you two were so close it felt like nothing could separate you.

Nothing except the cruel judgement of the Control Brains.

The Control Brains took notice of how emotional you were becoming and decided that was enough reason to delete you.

Zim was devastated and vowed to avenge your memory by becoming the greatest Invader The Irken Empire had ever known!

It wasn’t long before Zim was sent to Urth to continue a ‘secret mission’.

Everyday Zim schemed and schemed. He was ready to enact his latest plan when he heard it.

“Hi, my name’s Y/N.”

Zim let out a gasp as his head jerked up

That voice….It couldn’t be.

“I’m so excited to be in class with you guys! I know we’re all gonna be the best of friends!”

You then flashed the bright smile that Zim remembered so fondly.

Zim clutched at his chest as he felt his PAK spark.

It really was you!

Sure you had a human body, but that cheerful look in your eyes remained the same.

You took your seat next to Zim, and turned to greet him.

The moment your eyes met his you felt a spark of your own, deep within your heart.

Zim was a mess of nerves! How could he be in love with the enemy?! This was all so wrong!

With a loud scream, Zim bolted out of the classroom and straight to his base.

After a long chat with Minimoose, Zim decided it was best to indulge in his feelings.

After all, he had missed you terribly! Just because you had a human body didn’t change who you were right?

The next day Zim cleared his throat and approached you at lunch.

“Y/N, I’d like to apologize for my outburst yesterday, I simply uh, had…explosive diarrhea! Yeah! It was so bad I had to run home screaming!”

“Oh man! Are you ok now?” You asked sympathetically.

“Of course I am! Zim is always ok! I just needed to go home and you know…” Zim chuckled as he rubbed the back of his head.

“Oh I totally get it,”

“Anyhow, I know this is gonna sound pretty sudden but….” Zim swallowed thickly as his PAK sparked.

“But what?”

“Y/N I have chosen to give you the highest honor of being MY LOVE PIG!” Zim sang dramatically.

You nearly choked on your lunch before staring at Zim in shock.

“Are you?! Are you asking me out?”

“Yes. So what do you say?” Zim asked casually.

“Wow! This is definitely sudden..”

You let out a nervous laugh but something about the look in Zim’s eyes beckoned you to say yes.

“Sure! I don’t see why not!”

“Wait really? I mean! Excellent! I shall now sit with you!” Zim announced dramatically.

You giggled again as Zim plopped down next to you.

You and Zim spent the rest of lunch talking and laughing together.  

Despite just meeting, you felt as if you were talking to an old friend you haven’t seen in ages.

Zim held back the urge to cry tears of joy as he spoke to you. Oh how long he had longed to see you again!

From that day forth, you and Zim were inseparable! It was as if time had picked up right where it left off!

Not even Zim revealing his true alien self to you was enough to tear you two apart.

Time passed by and you and Zim had graduated Hi Skool and were headed off to the same College.

Things seemed to be going well until one fateful night.

You and Zim were cuddling under the stars.  

The cool grass tickled your back as you turned to face Zim.

“Hey Zim, how old would you say you were?”

“Eh? I’m about 169 years old.” Zim replied casually.

“Damn! You’re an old fart!” You teased playfully.

“Well I mean, I’m technically 19 in human years!” Zim scoffed as his face turned a darker shade of green.

“Well still! How long do Irkens live anyway?”

“Well we can live up to one thousand years. How long do humans live?” Zim asked as he sat up a bit.

You opened your mouth to speak but you were overcome by a wave of sadness.

“Humans can only live up to 98 years. Maybe 100 if we’re really lucky.” You confessed somberly.

Zim let out a hum before he realized why you sounded so sad.

He was going to outlive you.

“WHAT?! THAT CAN’T BE IT JUST CANT!” Zim blubbered as he pulled you close.

“Well, I mean we’ll still be together for a while so-”

“No! I don’t want to live without you! Not even for a second! I can’t let you die before me!” Zim interjected as he clung to you for dear life.

“Zim it’s gonna be alright we still have-”

“Wait! That’s it! Technology! If I can build you a PAK of your own, it can increase your lifespan!” Zim cheered as he sprung to his feet.

“What? I didn’t say anything about that-”

“Do not question me being ingenious! Now, I apologize but I must get to work at once!”

Zim gave you a kiss on the cheek before running off to his base.

You scoffed as you playfully shook your head.

“What am I gonna do with him?”

A few weeks later, Zim eagerly rushed up to you holding up a PAK just your size!

“The PAK is done! I’ve designed it with your DNA in mind and it’s water proof!” Zim sang cheerfully.

“Woah! That’s amazing, Zim! But are you sure it’s safe?” You asked skeptically.

“Of course it is…Probably! Come with me! I shall attach it to you in the safety of my lab!”

You wanted to protest but you were very intrigued by the idea of having a PAK so you decided to go along with it.

After arriving at Zim’s lab, Zim changed into a white lab coat and green lab goggles.

“Alright, Y/N, now I’m going to attach the PAK to your back. You may feel a slight sting but other than that, you should be fine.” Zim explained as you laid on your stomach.

You held your breath as Zim slipped the PAK under your shirt.

FWIP!

You felt a slight prick as the PAK latched into your back.

“It is done! Now! How do you feel?” Zim’s voice quivered as he spoke.

You blinked as you slowly sat up.

“Well….My back hurts a bit but other than that…I don’t really feel much different.” You admitted as you stretched a bit.

“Excellent! Don’t worry! Your back pain will subside soon! Let me know if there are any other complications!” Zim instructed as he helped you up.

“Will do! You know, this is actually pretty cool! So can my PAK do all the same stuff yours can do?”

“Probably! Wanna find out?”

“Sure!”

And with that, Zim taught you everything you needed to know about your PAK. From learning how to use your PAK legs, to seeing how many things you could stuff inside, you were having the time of your life.

Having a PAK was a bit strange but you loved it nonetheless.

Most importantly, you took comfort in knowing that you would never be separated from Zim ever again…

[dopescotlandwarrior]

Beauty Chooses II-Chapter 14

            A special thanks to @statell​ for all your help and wisdom

Previous chapters at AO3

Chapter 14 Life On The Ridge  (NSFW)

I spent some time writing in our new bible, however, my excitement over telling Jamie I was pregnant kept stealing my thoughts. I would catch myself gazing into space seeing a newborn at my breast. Misses Crook asked me several times if I was well and finally laid her hand on my shoulder with a knowing smile. I looked up at her with wide eyes but she said no more. How could she know I was pregnant? I cleaned up the main room a bit and helped Misses Crook with dinner, followed by Glavia and Faith. It was getting rather crowded in the kitchen and I wasn’t feeling that well, so I excused myself to my room. The nausea eased when I laid down, so I gave in to fatigue and closed my eyes with an abstract worry taking hold in my stomach.

I dreamed I was being pushed to the curtain to start my walk. Many hands guiding me to the stage as the garment rustled around my feet. The pain in my abdomen brought me to my knees and I heard the collective gasp of those around me as they pulled me up. The pain passed and I walked quickly to take my first step into the audience, seeing girls coming back and disappearing into the curtain. Two steps and the pain gripped me once again. I tried to put one foot in front of the other until it drove me to my knees again and stole my ability to breathe.

My eyes slammed open as the pain sliced through me making me moan and clutch my knees. What the fuck is happening! Pain came again and felt like a wave flowing through my abdomen until I screamed. I knew this was some kind of food poisoning, I had seen it before when a tenant ate spoiled meat. I just had to endure until it worked its way out of my body. I closed my eyes when another wave came and panicked when I felt severe nausea threaten to spill my lunch all over the bed.

Misses Crook came running into my room and brought the chamber pot close to the bed. I felt her cool hand on my sweaty head and then a damp rag over my eyes. I wasn’t aware of time passing as I drifted in and out of sleep, or consciousness. I felt a cool rag on my face and heard Misses Crook calm me as she lifted my skirts. What the hell was she doing? I couldn’t ask her because the pain suddenly gripped me, and I heard myself moan loudly as I held my knees. My skirts were untied and pulled off me. I wanted to shout at Misses Crook, but I could not utter a word as the pain rippled through me. Towels were shoved under my lower half as I clutched the sheets and clenched my teeth. I just had to vomit or rid myself of diarrhea from the food poisoning. Then I would be fine.

When the pain came again, I turned my head to the pillow and screamed feeling a gush of warm fluid come out of me and expel one of my organs. I dearly hoped I didn’t need it. That did it. The pain left me, and I breathed in relief feeling sweat roll down my temple. Misses Crook was wrapping my organ in cloth and cleaning me up. I wanted to tell her it was over, not to worry, but lost consciousness and drifted in my sick sleep. I surfaced twice and heard Misses Crook whispering to someone. I was buried in quilts and shivering with cold. The next time I woke I called to Misses Crook and she looked heartbroken as she sat on the bed and mopped my face. I watched her as the tragedy of my loss took shape in my mind. The sadness on her face told me to prepare for a truth that would break my heart.

“Misses Crook?”

“I’m so sorry Claire.”

Tears rolled down her cheeks and she held my hands as I started to cry. I drifted in darkness, asleep I think, until I woke myself up crying.

“I’m here, love.”

The room was dark and Jamie held me close to his warmth. Sweet Jamie had the sniffles and I worried he was catching a cold. No, that wasn’t it. He knew our baby died today and he had cried. I turned toward him and buried my face in his chest, feeling his arms come around me, he stroked my hair, and calmed me with his beautiful Gaelic. It was a story about love I think, and it lulled me back to sleep. By morning, I was thinking clearly and understood I lost the baby. Jamie stayed in bed with me until mid-morning when I got up with a deep sigh.

“Thank you, Jamie, for staying with me, for grieving with me. You are the best man I’ve ever known, and I am so sorry.”

“Ye tried to bring me a child Claire, but God called him home. I celebrate your love for wee ones and I believe God will bless us with another. Your pain will fade lass, I promise, and he lives in our hearts forever.”

“He?”

“Christian Alexander Mackenzie Fraser. Please, Claire, I couldna put him in the ground wi’out a name. I hope yer not mad.”

“How could I be? You loved your son enough to give him a proper name and bury him.”

“I will work extra hard next season so we can have a grave marker carved for him.”

I was overwhelmed with Jamie’s sensitivity and love. I had known a few women of my time that miscarried and did nothing like what Jamie did. Somehow, it made me feel better he was named and buried, someday to be joined by the parents and family that loved him. I cupped Jamie’s cheek and felt I owed him my soul for what he had done. He kissed me softly and asked me to rest today and then he was gone to welcome a new family to the ridge.

I stayed in my room for two days and asked Misses Crook not to mention the miscarriage to anyone. Since no one else knew about the pregnancy, it seemed easier if people didn’t offer sympathy. What Jamie did burying our son made all the difference to me as he had a name and a place in the kirkyard. He existed.

When the calendar was turned to November, winter rolled in with a vengeance. Many of us went outside to see the beautiful snowfall and a big fire was started to keep us warm until nightfall. A cauldron of warm cider sat above a low fire and we toasted the storm and each other. I loved impromptu gatherings to spend time with my neighbors and friends. There would be far less of that during the cold days of winter, so I hugged them all extra hard.

It had been months since the miscarriage and I felt better every day, mentally and physically. I lost myself in the new books we had ordered to get us through the cold months. Jamie sat next to me on the sofa and asked me to read out loud while he cuddled with me. He looked closely at me and smiled as if to say, I’m glad you’re back. The pages turned as the story unfolded and Jamie pulled a strand of my hair out and twisted it around his finger. He pulled me closer to him and kissed my neck, then ran his tongue from my shoulder blade to my jaw making me squirm in his embrace.

“Sassenach, ye look flushed, are ye alright lass?”

I gave him a side-eye and continued to read. Misses Crook was right around the corner cooking dinner and could easily surprise us. I tucked the strand of hair back into my pins and cleared my throat. Jamie played with my skirt, inching it up slowly until I slapped his hand.

“I like it when ye fight me wife, yer so adorable when ye do it. I am ready for a midday nap, will ye join me?”

I almost laughed at the invitation, as if Jamie needed permission to rip my clothes off and have his way with me. I couldn’t resist him, and he knew it, but I acted distracted to heighten his ardor. The pages continued to turn while Jamie ran his big hand down my back, pulling me into a hug where he could run his hand down my breast and pinch a nipple. I opened my mouth to breathe exposing my arousal and I felt his interest shoot up.

“Dinna scream mo chridhe.”

Before I knew it, Jamie held me firmly and pushed his hand under my skirt and up my legs. I was horrified someone would walk in on us and see something impossible to forget. I felt his finger open my fold and his hand was back in his lap in seconds.

“Ye canna hide your honey drippin for me, love. Now, be a good lass and go to our room takin every stitch off ye sweet body before ye lay on the bed, quiet and willin. I’m comin to love ye Sassenach and I will have my way with ye, that I can promise.”

He whispered the last part of the sentence and looked at me indecently through dark eyes. My heart rate shot to the moon and I squeezed my thighs together.

“Be gone with ye.”

I bolted toward the stairs calling for Misses Crook to assist me as Jamie walked outside. I was breathless as my laces were pulled and I took a deep breath to calm my nerves. Now out of my dress, I thanked Misses Crook and feigned a yawn as she left. I laid on the bed, naked, as requested, looking at my mental pictures of Jamie’s favorite positions. “Mmmm, yes that one.”

“Yer a minx alright, my lovely wife. Just what were ye plannin to do with that finger inchin down yer stomach? I’m yer husband, and I want ye to show me.”

I looked at him through slit eyes and watched him pull his clothes off. His erection was large and purple making my arousal almost hurt. My core was throbbing and I pulled him to me, but he resisted and told me to continue. He ran his finger into my fold and my back arched as I moaned. I saw him suck his finger into his mouth and that was so sexy I threw caution to the wind and buried my finger between my legs.

“I canna see mo chridhe, open yer legs, it will be far better, I promise.”

My legs slammed open as my finger found my bud, swollen, and engorged. I whimpered his name until my breath caught as I pulled my arousal up to dangerous heights. Jamie watched me closely and settled between my legs, his face inches from my finger. I was close to climax and my chest was heaving for air. Just before my release, Jamie pulled my finger away making me cry out for him. He got off the bed and searched my drawers until he found a belt which he used to tie my wrists to the headboard.

“Jamie please.”

“In just a moment my love, I want ye all to m’self, yer lovely body belongs to me. Relax and breathe mo chridhe, this is gonna take a while.”

When he belted my arms to the headboard his erection danced not an inch from my mouth. I opened my mouth and tried to lift my head to it but couldn’t reach him. I tried to scoot my head under him and suck his magnificent balls into my mouth and became frustrated I could not reach him. Jamie looked down at me and told me to open my mouth before he pressed his cock into my mouth crashing into my throat. I was immobile and lost myself to his cock gliding over my tongue, nearly choking me. He pulled himself away from me and walked to the whisky we always kept in our room. Rather than fill a glass he tipped the bottle to his mouth as he walked back.

He ran his hand down my breast, stomach, and legs, and then tipped the bottle to my mouth. I couldn’t refuse if I wanted to and felt my mouth fill with the strong spirit followed by Jamie’s cock buried in the liquid. I swallowed as best I could and felt him yank out of my mouth. I looked at him with a warning not to torture me and heard a chuckle out of him.

“My love, this will take some time so ye need to relax and calm yerself.”

I looked into his eyes and growled like I wanted to tear him apart. One of his balls was shoved into my mouth and I was told to suck it, which I did, gladly.

“Open yer legs love.”

A fat finger invaded my body and I pressed against it wanting it deeper before it was gone again. I whimpered and moaned, feeling true pain in my throbbing core. Jamie kissed me and descended, placing kisses along my stomach and lower until he kissed my clit and I lost my mind. His tongue took possession of my sacred place as he sucked and flicked until I tumbled into the erotic abyss. I felt my stomach jerk into my orgasm and felt Jamie’s tongue on me while I took flight.

When I became aware of my successful landing on earth, I still felt Jamie’s tongue on me. Ordinarily, he watched me spin into oblivion but this time he stayed between my legs. I felt his warm hands moving up my sides and wrap around my shoulders as my head cleared. He pulled me toward his mouth until his tongue was forced against me. It made me tingle and the harder he pressed down on my shoulders the more erotic it became. I was astounded he could pull my heat up that fast and was thrashing and grinding my core against his mouth minutes later. He pushed me off a precipice that threatened my sanity and I drifted in the erotic, pulsing fog for several minutes.

I heard him growling, low and quiet, and knew it was a spontaneous sound triggered by dangerous arousal. When I landed back in our bed my one thought was to gift him the same new level of abandon. What came to my mind was to push him away, stimulating the beast, the part of Jamie that was beyond social courtesy. The beast was brutal and limitless.

“Take this belt off my hands, Jamie.” It was not a request.

He stared at my breasts and licked his lips, but he released the belt and I rolled away from him and got up. He materialized in front of me so fast I ran into him feeling his hand grip my hair and pull my head back viciously. His mouth hovered above mine as he gripped my nipple and shook my breast hard before his tongue made my knees weak. He walked me to a chair and pushed my face into his groin telling me to suck lightly and pulling my head away from him if there was too much pressure. I smiled drunkenly, understanding what he needed. A feather touch of my mouth wide open. He pushed my head to the side so he could watch me, pulling my head back for another mouthful of whiskey.

I felt the room sway a bit, but the buzz was driving my arousal. When he pushed my mouth onto his cock again, he quickly pulled me up and spun me around before he impaled me. I was so wet and felt him slide into my depths making me quake with need. I tried to increase the tempo, I wanted the friction to make me come but he pulled me to him and leaned back in the chair so I couldn’t move. Every few minutes he would pull me up and let me slide down on him again. Each time I would gasp when he filled me until I was moaning for him to take me, roughly. I needed the beast.

When he released me, I jumped off of him and knelt between his legs. I pulled his cock to my lips and asked for the beast. He watched me open my mouth and his chest heaved a breath of air ending in a growl of warning. I kept teasing him, making my request and finally, he shoved himself into my mouth and held me against his body before ramming into my throat several times. I felt him lift me to the bed and turn me to the mattress before inching behind me, like a predator sizing up his meal. He pulled my hips up and caressed my butt as he lifted himself to his knees. I knew the beast was behind me and felt my stomach quiver with excitement.

“I’m gonna love ye lass and I have no more strength to resist the pull of yer drippin honey pot. Ye’ve pushed me to my limit so run if ye have the strength, lock yerself away from me if ye can. I’m comin for ye.”

When he pushed into me, I could tell he was momentarily sidetracked watching his cock sink deep into me. I feared the beast would be in his box before Jamie let him ravish me. I rammed my body against him, pushing him deeper into me and was overcome with the stimulating depths. That did it. The beast was in control and rammed into me mercilessly, pulling my upper body toward his chest he spread my legs wide with his own giving him deeper access where only the beast had been before. He flipped me to the bed and held my ankles up in the air as he rammed me and watched my body open to his assault. He pulled my legs open, still in the air, and growled into a dozen powerful thrusts before he held my pelvis against him and emptied his seed into me.

Jamie dropped to my side panting for his life, pulling me nearly under him again. He pushed the hair out of my face and kissed me before dropping his head to the mattress beside me. I could hear him struggle to breathe and smiled to myself.

“Yer a rare woman Sassenach,” he panted. “So refined to the outside world. Thank God, or I’d be fightin every bucky in the county for ye. Ye fascinate me wild cat, and I love ye for it.”

He pulled me to him and spooned me so he couldn’t see my triumphant smile. I let him pull me into a restful nap and felt his hands up and down my arms in his sleep.

I woke refreshed and stretched before rolling off the bed to get dressed. Damn corsets. I called for Misses Crook and Glavia materialized to pull my laces and help me dress. My breasts pushed up by the corset burned with heat that intensified when my jacket was pulled against them. When my skirts were tied, Glavia gushed about the progress Faith was making with her letters and I promised to come in the next day and observe her lessons.

I felt uncomfortable through dinner and didn’t know why. I found myself staring at Jamie’s face, animated in conversation. If he looked at me, I quickly looked away feeling foolish. I scrubbed dishes after the evening meal, lost in my thoughts, remembering his powerful body take control of me. When a serving dish slipped into the water Misses Crook sent me to bed saying I was not up to task and likely to break something. I walked slowly up the stairs feeling every step push my inner thigh against my core. I closed the door and leaned against it breathing heavily, almost panting. I couldn’t take this pain and throbbing. I realized Jamie had prepared me for a release that never happened and now I was in poor condition to sleep.

I left the house, looking in all the outbuildings until I found him stoking the peat fires under the malting floor of the whisky building. Even in winter, this building was unbearably hot and I watched his unclad upper body flex until his shiny muscles bulged. It was too much for me, I didn’t care how or where he made it happen, but it needed to happen. He pulled me deeper into the building where the heat from the peat fires made me sweat and my dress stuck to my skin. He pulled off my jacket and asked if that was better. I smiled at him feeling shy and needy.

“Do ye know I love ye more than anything in this world?” he whispered. “Ye are my angel, my dearest love.”

He pushed his erection into my stomach, and I was surprised he was ready to love me again. Hot kisses drove what was left of my sanity away and when he sucked on my neck, I felt his hand moving up my leg under my skirt. I let him push me down on the soft mounds of peat.

“It’s time to kiss the angels love.”

He dropped to my clit and sucked it, flicking is tongue viciously. When I fell into the cyclonic wind of my orgasm, he pushed into me and chased his own release. I felt like a bowl of jello, completely dependent on the glass bowl to keep me together. Too exhausted to speak I watched Jamie pull his shirt and coat on and then lift me into his arms. It was dark enough to slip into the back door and climb the stairs silently before dropping into bed under the warm quilt.

“My darling love,” whispered into my ear, “you are so much fun. Yer honesty sets me free.”

I wasn’t sure I really heard it, or what it meant, but his silky voice lulled me to sleep.

After Hogmanay, Jamie and Murtagh made the trek to check on families outside our community. They would be gone all day. I bundled Faith up and sent her outside with a large bowl of juicy scraps from recent meals and asked her to dump it into the pig's feeder. She came flying back through the front door and screamed to me that men were holding Mister Jackson and his face was bleeding. I grabbed my cloak, shoved a pistol into my belt, and loaded the rifle. I was shaking inside and steeled my nerves hoping the rifle didn’t tremble and give my fear away.

I could see Jackson being held down by three men who were taunting him. It looked like he was already beaten. I raised the rifle to my shoulder walking quickly toward the men. I took a shot splintering bark and a chunk of wood off the closest tree. I kept walking and cocked the rifle aiming it right at the head of the biggest man. The three of them looked shocked and said they were rounding up their escaped slaves.

“Back away gentlemen. That man is not one of your escaped slaves and I can prove it. I hold the bill of sale for him. Move away before I shoot one of you, intentionally or otherwise.”

I could see the men sizing me up, not knowing to stay or go. When I heard my name, I gave them a last warning.

“You three idiots need to move away and high tail away from this place. Someone is coming for you and it will not be pleasant, I promise.”

Jamie had called my name from the road into the ridge, so I knew he was running to back me up. I was starting to lose my nerve with these reluctant men who could easily kill Jackson if they decided to. Please hurry Jamie.

One of the men lurched forward and fell on the ground as Jamie came out of nowhere and grabbed a second man. I trained the rifle on the third man just as I heard neighbors coming to help. Jackson was taken to his house so his wounds could be cleaned up and the three men were tied up and pushed into the wagon. Murtagh carefully took the rifle from me and smiled before joining Jamie in the wagon. Later that night Jamie told me the men were tied to a tree and left for the night. I imagined the temperature dipped to freezing and below. I hoped it would be enough to keep them away.

It was a relief to finally welcome spring in our sixth year on the ridge. As the snow melted and the days warmed up the community was a buzz of activity. Fences had to be mended, the land newly turned in preparation for planting, baby goats and pigs were born, and more families arrived to see the Ridge. The renewal of spring made everyone happy it seemed.

A young man arrived today, looking lost and fearful. He said he was a preacher and his name was Daniel, sent to the Ridge to preach for the community of God-loving souls. I thought him too young to be so pompous. I giggled at his puffed out chest which was soon deflated and a youngster’s blush colored his face. I decided he was perfect and took it upon myself to walk him through the community and introduce him to the settlers.

“If I may be so bold madam, may I ask about what I have heard in town, the very thing that prompted my coming here?”

I looked at him thinking it was a strange question. “Of course, preacher, what have you heard?”

He looked to his right and left and stepped closer to me, “do you have freed slaves living in the community?”

I smiled at his whispered question, “yes, we do not allow slavery, indentured servants, on the Ridge. Sixteen men and women were freed and now live here. They are friends and neighbors who we value like any of the others.”

His eyes were wide and he smiled, “remarkable, and praise God! But are they truly free Misses Fraser?”

“Well, they cannot leave here as freed people, they would be claimed and returned to slavery. Jamie holds the ownership papers for all of them and must take them out from time to time when we are challenged. It isn’t perfect, but they are happy here with their families, making their own living on the goods they grow and very committed to the community.”

Daniel met with Jamie and they talked for a good bit of the afternoon. When they stood and shook hands, Jamie was all smiles and I knew we had a new preacher. There was a small living space built into the church that Daniel would live in and I looked forward to our first sermon the following Sunday. I made sure to pass the word and invite everyone to the service.

A few days later I walked Jamie out to the wagon and kissed him with my arms around his waist.

“I’ll be home tomorrow Sassenach and bring ye the sweet soap ye love so much and a promised candy for Faith.”

The wagon rolled away empty and would return in a day loaded down with supplies for the coming growing season.

I heard ladies giggling as a group of women were walking toward the house. I watched them move down the trail with the sun dappling through the leaves on this spring morning. It was a sight to behold, young and old, black and white, working and living together on the ridge. I shook my head and ran to the house to prepare for hours of dyeing wool.

There was much talk throughout the afternoon, but one comment was worrisome. One of the ladies had stopped to meet Daniel, the preacher, and gave him a pie.

“He stared at the pie until I left. The man is skin on bones, have ye seen him, Claire?”

“Yes, but he was wearing his black coat and I failed to notice how thin he was. Excuse me a minute, please.”

That poor man had not asked for a thing and was probably living off the treats given to him as a welcome. I grabbed a basket and went through my kitchen taking everything ready to eat. Bread, cheese, and dried meat filled the basket. I found Glavia in the nursery doing lessens with Faith and asked her to take the basket to the preacher at the church. In my mind, he was drawing his last breath from starvation, so I asked her to hurry. When she returned, I was pulled away again for the strangest request.

“You want what? My dear, I would love to purchase fabric to make you a new dress. We can make a day of it and bring Faith, as soon as Jamie gets back.”

Her disappointment was clear as I headed back to our work table. There was nothing I could do this instant without fabric which I did not have.

Misses Crook and I cleaned up the mess and served dinner with ale, watered down for Faith. We all missed Jamie when he was away, especially me, and Faith a close second. Many nights when he was gone, I suffered with insomnia and found it the loneliest of maladies. When my eyes opened with the new dawn, I was happy that had not happened the night before and I was well-rested. Jamie would be home today and tomorrow was Sunday, there was much to look forward to.

All of us walked the path to the church the next morning feeling very happy in the cool morning. Jamie looked up at the church and declared a large bell was needed to bring the flock in for the sermon. I chuckled at him and kept walking. After the sermon, we waited to shake hands and welcome Daniel one more time. I introduced Misses Crook and Faith but Glavia had vanished. We pushed away letting the next person in line shake the preacher’s hand as I continued to look for Glavia.

As we approached the house, I could see Glavia sitting outside like she was waiting for someone. She jumped to her feet when she saw us and smiled from ear to ear.

“I am ready to go.”

“Where are you going?”

“To town to buy fabric for my dress!”

“Sweetheart, the shops are not open on Sunday. I am so sorry, but we have to wait one more day.”

She walked to her room with her head down and mumbled to Faith to come with her and practice her letters. I looked at Misses Crook and raised my eyebrows.

“Dinna fash Mistress, the lass is in love and wilna come out of the house until she has something fancy to put on.”

“You don’t say!” I could hear Jamie laughing as he walked into the house and I stood closer to Misses Crook, “who does she love?”

“The preacher.”

I am quite sure my mouth dropped open and stayed that way for some time. That is how shocked I was. I couldn’t imagine a girl falling love because of a single sermon and then I remembered sending her with food for Daniel. Preachers are supposed to be righteous people, but they can still hurt a young girl with unrequited love. I truly hoped that didn’t happen.

As promised, we went to town on Monday. Jamie and Murtagh spent time in the tavern while we shopped for fabric and some spices. Glavia was thrilled with a beautiful royal blue fabric for a split skirt and jacket. Lace for making inserts at the elbows for fancy parties and church. I chose light-weight red wool with white lace for an underskirt and yarn of the same color for a warm cowl. I purchased my spices and we went to find Jamie. It was always exciting to be in town with all the people and goings-on. I took in the sights as we waited for Jamie and Murtagh to come out.

Glavia put her hand in mine and looked up to see her cowering in front of two very rude men.

“Leave us alone!” I snapped, and they turned and ran their eyes up and down my body. I pulled the shaking Glavia to me and whispered not to fear. I knew Jamie was within earshot of us if it came to that.

The ugly one held up a coin and leered at me, then added a coin and I scoffed at him.

“Do I look like a prostitute sir?”

He showed me another coin and grabbed me around the waist. I rolled my eyes and batted him about the head with my parasol, finally sticking the pointy end into his ribs with all my strength. The man yelped and took off with his toothless friend without so much as an apology. I huffed and pulled my jacket down. When I finally looked up, I saw Jamie and Murtagh leaning against the wall watching me. I know I blushed because I felt the heat on my cheeks. Jamie’s eyes were shining with pride and Murtagh was just highly amused.

Glavia thanked me profusely and I looked her over for any injuries letting my gaze settle on a smug Jamie, chewing on a piece of wood.

“You could have come to my aid!”

”What, and miss that brutal attack? Yer a warrior woman, and I am doomed to make ye my enemy. Walk with me so I can protect ye from the other idiots in the street.”

When Murtagh squeezed my upper arm muscle and shook his hand like it was burned I huffed at both of them. Feeling Jamie’s arm around my waist I looked at him wondering why he didn’t help us.

He ran his finger down my jaw, “Sassenach, I walked out of the tavern as you were thrashing the man. I could have pulled him away to pummel him, but I wanted ye to know yer strength and ability. Besides, I probably would have killed him and been dragged to jail for murder. And ye were so cute and feisty,” he chuckled, “red cheeks, given him what for.”

He pulled me closer and continued to laugh, asking Murtagh if he saw me stab the bloke with my wee parasol like it was a sword. The two of them were having quite a laugh and I finally gave in to my own laughter which allowed Glavia and Faith to giggle as well.

Misses Crook pushed me upstairs when we got home saying all heroes need their rest. I grabbed Faith’s hand and pulled her into bed with me and we giggled as we tumbled into the soft feather mattress. I pressed my forehead into hers and smiled.

“I hope you weren’t scared sweetheart.”

“I was so proud of you mommy and I smiled when you stabbed that man.”

“My sweet little girl, you should not see such things at your tender age.” I pulled her to me, suddenly aware of Jamie looming above us. His eyes were soft and tender watching us, but he launched into a lesson for his daughter.

“Nonsense, the wee lassie is in training.” He dropped behind Faith and tickled her a bit. “Look no further than yer ma to show you how to be a lady but fierce underneath. Make no mistake my wee love, she has the heart and courage of a warrior so let her teach ye. Now, I want to take my two lasses to the river to fish for supper.”

With that, he took our hands and led us outside to the stream. There was silly joking between Faith and her father but when they laid on the big rock that hung over the water, they became deadly serious. Faith did just as Jamie did and watched his hand through the water. My yawns were getting hard to hide and I doubted they would notice if I laid down in the warm grass for a bit. Just as I was drifting off there was a loud splashing of water and Jamie’s happy cry followed by Faith screaming in horror. I sat up in time to see her little hand around a fat fish and she was terrified, throwing the fish at Jaime and running to my lap. Jamie chased the flopping fish until he could grab it making short work of ending its life. He walked toward us pulling out his knife and I shook my head side to side. He retreated behind the rock and emerged with two gutted fish ready to cook.

“How is that for fierce?” I smiled at him.

“It’s a start, mo chridhe.”

Jamie showed Faith how to spit the fish and start a fire. She watched with great interest, inches from him as he struck the flint and blew life into the flame. Our stomachs churned smelling the cooking fish and we feasted until we couldn’t take another bite.

Faith laid between us and listened to Jamie’s story about Lallybroch and the adventures he had there. My mind drifted back to my own time where people were slaves to their mobile devices, social media, television, and fifty-hour workweeks. Parents were always striving to spend quality time with their children. I wondered if they ever ate by a stream and fell asleep together in the sun. I rather doubted it.

[tomasorban]

Inanna: Relevance and Return

The Sumerian Goddess Inanna came to the notice of modern women in 1983 when Diane Wolkstein and Samuel Kramer published Inanna: Queen of Heaven and Earth. But she first appeared in recorded history about 5,500 years ago. Written myths are almost always pre-dated by many generations of oral traditions, so it plausible to assume that her stories were passed down orally through many generations before writing became extant. Throughout the centuries she has morphed and changed as she moved from culture to culture, empire to nation. Over the years Inanna became Ishtar, Asherah, Astarte, Astoreth, Aphrodite, Ainina, Danina, and possibly Dali of the Georgians. Her worship died out slowly in the Middle East between the third and fifth centuries A.D., but she left her mark in Marion theology with hymns of lamentation attributed to Mary, but taken straight from Inanna’s lamentations for Damuzi.

Inanna was the goddess of sexual love and war. She was fierce, conniving, intelligent: quick to anger, but just as quick to reward loyalty. There are many stories about her, such as The Epic of Gilgamesh, Inanna and the Huluppu-Tree, Inanna and the God of Wisdom, The Courtship of Inanna, and The Descent of Inanna. It was the latter that caught and held the interest of women involved in Goddess Spirituality.

Although the myth is titled The Descent of Inanna the salient point is actually her return. The tale begins with Inanna’s decision to visit the underworld to meet her sister Ereshkigal, Queen of the Underworld, who is mourning her dead husband. Bad blood exists between the sisters—Inanna has been instrumental in the death of The Bull of Heaven. The other gods gossip about Inanna, speculating about her motives—perhaps she wishes to make peace with her sister, perhaps she wishes to steal her powers, but Inanna keeps her own counsel and determines to go alone.

Wisely, before she goes, Inanna concocts a plan with her trusted handmaiden, Ninshubar, giving her explicit instructions about what to do if her mistress does not return. Then, girding herself with seven powers, she rides away, driving her own chariot toward the underworld.

On hearing of Inanna’s arrival, Ereshkigal orders the gatekeeper to close the seven gates of her palace. As Inanna requests passage through each gate, she must divest herself of one of her powers. In the end she arrives in Ereshkigal’s hall naked. Her arrival coincides with the entrance of the judges of the underworld. They sentence her to death and stick her body on a meat hook, where it hangs for three days and three nights.

Meanwhile, Ninshubar has begun making the rounds of the gods. Each one turns her down until she reaches Inanna’s father, Enki. Enki heeds Ninshubar’s plea. He scrapes dirt from beneath his fingernails. Mixing it with a little spittle, he fashions two tiny winged creatures called gala to sneak past the gatekeeper and fly down into Ereshkigal’s realm. To one he gives the life-giving plant and to the other the life-giving water. He whispers instructions in their ear and sends them on their way.

Down in the underworld Ereshkigal continues to mourn, wailing unceasingly day and night. She is pregnant with her dead husband’s child. When the gala find Ereshkigal they hover by her ears and mourn with her. When she groans, “Oh, my liver!” they groan, “Oh, my liver!” When she cries, “Oh, my heart!” they cry, “Oh, my heart!” Ereshkigal is so grateful to be heard and comforted on her own terms that she offers them anything they desire. Following Enki’s instructions, they ask for the body of Inanna. Anointing her with the precious life-giving water and plant, the galas restore Inanna to life and together they set out on the journey home.

Once again, however, the judges intervene and refuse Inanna passage unless she finds someone to take her place in the underworld. She promises to find a replacement and, accompanied by a posse of enforcing demons, she storms up into the sunlight.

Thus begins a round of visits to Inanna’s hairdresser, her son, and her brother, all of whom have mourned her with the proper mourning rites. Faithful Ninshubar offers to take Inanna’s place but the goddess vehemently refuses. Finally they come to Inanna’s consort, Damuzi, who has barely noted her absence. He is sitting under a fig tree, feasting. Inanna, incensed at his indifference, orders the demons to grab him. But Damuzi calls upon Utu, the sun god, Inanna’s brother, to honor an old debt and rescue him. Utu helps him escape the demons and he manages to hide. The demons, however, are relentless in their pursuit and eventually run him to ground

Even then, his luck holds. Damuzi’s adoring sister intervenes and begs for his life, promising to take his place underground for half of every year. Tired of the whole business and possibly half-inclined to take Damuzi back, Inanna agrees.

This is a complicated tale, dovetailing and interweaving in places with other cycles and creatures of myth. It is a multilevel teaching story, depicting what Joseph Campbell called the hero’s journey; explicit directions on how to properly mourn a death; the advantage of prior planning; faithful service; parental love; the courage to face the unknown and the bad consequences inherent in wrong action. Lots of information to be packed, condensed and synthesized into one fabulous story.

At every level this myth resounds with true situations in which humans of every age find themselves. But it specifically appeals to modern women, because in Inanna we find a heroine who predates the extremes of patriarchal culture in which we find ourselves enmeshed today. She acts independently, while remaining in good relationship with men—her father, brother, and hairdresser. She has a strong, solid friend and ally in Ninshubar. She is not afraid to face the unknown and perseveres in the face of loss and sacrifice. Like many women she struggles in relationship with her mate.

But the part of the story with which women resonate most strongly is the journey of relinquishment, the egoic death, and the restoration of power. Using this part of the myth, circles of women have been manifesting and enacting their own rituals of letting go, creating space, and allowing new ways of seeing and being to take the place of what no longer serves them.

Sometimes the journeys are entirely imaginary, taking place as guided meditations in quiet, dimly lit rooms. Sometimes women build metaphorical gates as simple as seven scarves laid in rows across a room. Sometimes the gates are more elaborate structures, painted and adorned.

The gates may be assigned particular attributes—names, colors, stones, trees, etc. The seven chakras lend themselves particularly well to this rite. Furthermore, the descent and return may be pinned to a particular life passage like a marriage, a birth, the loss of a job or start of a new career, the death of a beloved mate, child, pet, or friend. It works well for any occasion that requires a relinquishment or some kind of death but also offers renewal and restoration.

In every ceremony I’ve been privy to or had described to me, there is always a time of study and preparation. Women do not undertake such a ritual unprepared or in ignorance of what it means. Always the gatekeepers remain present and aware, careful to gauge the mood of the group and the progress of each participant.

Inanna, with her link to sex and death, is not to be invoked without safeguards in place. Her myth specifically calls for opening the doors between the conscious and unconscious mind incrementally and ceremoniously. The story warns us that the journey is a long and dangerous one, a risky business that requires gravitas and can involve tears, howls, vomit, diarrhea, or ecstasy.

The Descent offers a chance to look clearly at tired habits of thought and action. A woman may finally admit to an addiction or see how some long-denied pattern of action has failed her time and again. The Return offers a chance for something to be born or recovered. A woman may reclaim a talent or a forgotten dream, put aside years before, that suddenly offers itself, once more, as a viable choice. The possibilities are endless and unique to each individual on the journey. The point is change.

The Goddess, in every form she takes, is all about change. Inanna, the Queen of Heaven, replete with every kind of talent, adoration, and power, begins her journey because of a desire to change. We don’t know why. Often in old teaching tales the questions left unanswered hold their own secret wisdom.

Perhaps she doesn’t know. Perhaps she longs for mystery. Undoubtedly she is aware that in undertaking this journey nothing will ever be the same again. The point is she decides on change and then rides out to meet it. A wise woman once told me, “Change or die!” At the time she terrified me and I had no idea what she meant or why she would say such a terrible thing. But her words continued to ring in my ears through the years every time I had a choice, every time a risk presented itself or a circumstance demanded courage. Her directive did indeed change my life and always for the better, though at times it took a little hindsight to understand how.

Inanna’s descent and return exemplify the “both and” inherent in Goddess Spirituality. One may change one’s self and hence the surrounding world both by releasing and/or embracing. Possibly, yesterday’s release will one day become tomorrow’s embrace or vice versa. The journey is an ongoing process of dismantling and rebuilding that goes on throughout life. Inanna’s ritual gives us focus, a sacred space in which to step out of time and consciously enact a psychological process that one way or another life will force us to undertake anyway. Engaging in it willingly, we emerge chastened, humble, and radiant, suffused with the power and strength of an ancient archetype. Inanna returns in glory to walk the world anew, as she has so many times before.