#ma’am that’s just soil no one shit in the sink

[xiaoluclair]

me *should study*: am soo tired. no move :(

also me: weeds for two hours

[sienna-writes]

Butterfly Blood // update 1

woo! first writing update on this WIP so far! (Finally!!). Since I don't want to include huge spoilers on this book, as I might one day end up publishing (who knows), I will be splitting these posts into chatting about my process, character development, edits etc. and then include extracts that aren't too spoilery! I think it'll be okay for the first sections of the book, especially as alot of the first few chapters is character building and imagery to set the scene, tone and atmosphere.

Also, the working title of "Bleeding Out" that I HATED with a PASSION is finally gone! My novel is now called Butterfly Blood based on a excerpt way in the future of the story. (Which I'm very excited to share c: )

I wrote the prologue after I’d finished the first chapter, to introduce the book and it’s mystery in a more captivating way than it had initially been introduced.

Frog finds himself underground in the middle of a forest with no knowledge of his surrounds, his past, or his identity. He clings to one certainty, that he is and was raised by frogs. (This book is a bit wack, just roll with it.)

As he crawls into the middle of the road, a truck starts hurtling toward him and careens off the road last minute. The driver drops down and searches for for Frog, but cannot find anyone.

There is no blood, no screaming, no mangled man wailing on the ground. Reluctantly, the driver withdraws from the dark and locks himself in the enclosed cabin of his truck, steadying his breathing.

As the exhaust sputters to life again, and tires tug against the initial friction of the gravel, the disappearance twists the driver’s thoughts.

His passenger clings with sticky tree frog palms to the trucks stomach; well-oiled organs huffing heat and fumes onto his face.

So this book actually began with a very horribly written chapter. The structure was a mess and for some reason I kept bombarding the reader with information about my main character Rowan and really pushing forward the idea that she’s an energetic person... Which was stiff and just poor writing, honestly. (Also, I've changed my ideas since about how I want to characterise her.) But out of the 3000 word (approx) start, there were salvageable aspects, and those went into the first chapter along with a lot more fleshing out of the scenes, setting and character. I also finally decided on a tense and perspective after being super inconsistent with it and unable to make my mind up.

But! We got there in the end, I just thought I’d share my struggle since writing is not a perfect process and there is a lot of rearranging, and sometimes it feels like pulling teeth.

The premise of this chapter is to set the scene of Blackerwick (a fictional, dreary british seaside town), introduce Rowan (our main character), and the complex relationship with her father, who has become insular over the past month before the story starts.

—excerpts;

A little world building and set up!

Everything about the sleepy town Rowan’s family had moved to is soaked in a distinct achromatic despondency. Inland residents slumped and slogged in their routines, never caring to change them, almost afraid of living. It had confused Rowan at first when she’d come here from Ireland at fourteen, how much the dull town contrasted its landscape. It seemed undeserving of such beauty; a tall mountain range to the left of Blackerwick, and beyond it a city; wide stretches of moors headed toward the forests, and beyond the forests—the ocean. It was as if all the world’s natural beauties had congregated here millions of years ago as the earth slid into place, waiting for settlers to enjoy it. They didn’t even seem to notice.

    Fading out of view behind her, a mangle of dark rooftops mesh amongst each other, a severe contrast to the pallidly painted house fronts, and chimneys slice into the sky, puffing endlessly on their pipes.

Hot air is exhaled from the horizon, tugging striking, unruly orange hair from her heavy ponytail as it whistles past her face. She closes her eyes peacefully against the feverish winds, her clothes buffeting and pounding as if fighting it off. Grinning, she leans toward the sea, trusting its breath to hold her weight.

In the course of this chapter Rowan has had an altercation with her teacher and gotten a detention, pushed through the forests toward the beach, and now is returning home. She rouses her dad’s attention by feigning a headache, because he doesn’t bother with her unless he sees she is in pain etc. Now for some quality mild gore!

    Turning, she leans in to hug him when she realises there’s blood gushing from her nose.

    “Oh shit! Shit, shit, shit! Not again!” Rowan scoops shaking hands to her nose, tacky blood spilling over her fingertips. “Dad, Dad!”

    He is already on it, tipping her head back into his cupped palm, holding tissues tightly to her nose. She wheezes and sputters, the world spinning as she lurches toward the sink, clinging to the draining board to keep her balance. Everything red, the four walls of the kitchen, red. Her blurring vision, red. Everything bleeding like her gums beneath grinding teeth as she bites down on the impulse to say something. She wants to scream, or throw up, head swimming as her world tilts upside down. Her skull rests in her father’s strong palm, a fleshy safety net.

Wash your mouth out with soap, ma’am. 

I was considering having Rowan not swear around her father, but her mother is pretty aggressive and her dad (Karmen) swears regularly, so it doesn’t seem too outrageous anymore. (I could never, my mum would flip).

When the bleeding slows finally, and her chin closes in on her neck again she notices her father’s shirt is covered with dried, grubby gore. It looks like he is bleeding out from a deep gash notched into his chest. His heart clawed savagely from its dwelling. 

Karmen being a worried dad is best dad;

     “You said not again.” He says finally, as she gathers herself, filling glass after glass with water and gulping hungrily, throat tilted toward the sky.

    “I’ve been getting more than usual recently.” She replies nonchalantly.

    “That’s shouldn’t be normal.” He says.

     Rowan shrugs, “I’ve always been prone to bleeding and bruising.” As if to defend herself or prove her case, she pulls down her jeans slightly, revealing a black contusion on her hip. It fades into swarthy purple and blue; a gradient discolouring her pale freckled skin; a deep ink blot, as if the flesh had been punctured with a fountain pen.

    Her dad hisses sharply. “How did you do that? I told you not to go into those woods anymore!”

Ok! Enough blood! I really made nosebleeds overly dramatic lol.

Anywho!

the first 2000 ish words of this chapter follow Frog (he's later named Mint), and let me tell you, his perspective came so naturally, and was such an interesting world view to write in. I'm not saying i like him, but I enjoy writing him for sure.

This chapter was initially 2100 words and I intended it to be a brief introduction of mint, but I merged it with the next one because I thought they joined together nicely. The other aspects of this chapter introduce more of the friend group (honestly the only relevent characters within this group are Damian and Jamie, the rest are low-key assholes) and set up later events.

—excerpts;

Mint is wandering in the forest, and hunting.

He slinks into step with the deer as it rises, shaking his head as it shakes its placid mane. Serenity slices the air in two.

     Frog strikes.

    The blade almost glitters in the air as it shoots toward the limpid animal’s vulnerable throat, veins pulsing beneath frosty, translucent fur. Incorporeal beast. A surreptitious streak in the night, headfirst, embedding with a gurgle and a coarse, barbaric scream. Deer’s aren't meant to sound like this. Like a human, like something capable of feeling and hurting. Frog wriggles the blade out of its fleshy sheath and exhales into a whistle. He looks gleefully at the drowned grass damp with blood. Gushing over his squirming toes.

      Its crown tumbles to the soil, antlers embedding deep into the foliage at Frogs feet. He sits beside Stag on the floor laden with pine needles--wreathing its glazed face like christ’s crown-- and strokes the un-bloodied fur of its forehead, holding its unblinking, waxy glare. Frog is the victor.

Frog/Mint is hunting! He kills a stag! Then he brutally dissects it;

      Peeling away at the thick membrane enshrouding Stag's skull, with tender interest, Frog carves muscle and fat from its head, pellucid and opaline, dropping the pale crumbs of carcass onto the ground. The deer’s dense ghost is not yet cold in his crimson tinted hands. 

Rowan feeling numb, because oh boy us writers like to see our characters in pain;

The water is scalding. Rowan breaks out in goose bumps. Catching her reflection in the rippling bathwater she almost doesn’t recognise herself. Flushed, pale cheeks. All sharp edges, cheekbones slicing beneath the eyes, graceful slanting nose scooping down into a slight point. Her lips protrude from her face, full and large, accommodating an easy smile. Rowan pulls her downturned lips into a small grin. The constructed happiness blurs in the water. Holding her breath, she leans into the baths hot grip, filling with her fiery hair.

    The silence smudges in her ears.

I also wrote some banter-y dialogues but I think I'll share them another time... After they've been edited.... a heck ton... There's an over exaggerated smoking description in this chap too but I've shared that before heh :)

I hope you enjoyed this LONG overdue chapter update! So far there are 7 chapters, so I have a lot of updating to catch up on! :)

I don’t have a tag list at the moment, but if you’re interested in this wip and want to be on it, then please send me an ask or a comment and I’ll add you :)

Tag list, ask to be added or removed;

@alicewestwater @elaz-ivero @coffeeandcalligraphy @hanwatchingmovies @sirfitzroys @chloeswords @nev-953

[imagineredwood]

***Y’all really been wanting to see EZ and Cam do the dirty huh? 😂 Patience is a virtue but I got y’all a little dry humping something to hold you over. I couldn’t link the previous parts this time since I’m on mobile. You can always check the El destino tag on the blog to catch up or refresh though***

Pairing: EZ Reyes x Camila

Warnings: Mild sexual content, nothing crazy yet

Word count: 2.3k

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Is that too much?”

Camila looked over at a kneeling Angel, wiping away a bead of sweat from her forehead and shook her head.

“Nope. That’s perfect.”

Angel gave a proud smile and nodded, softly patting his hand on the damp soil over the seeds he had just planted. Camila reached over and grabbed the sharpie and gardening label, handing them over to Angel.

“Write down what it is so we know.”

Angel took the items from her before shaking his head and holding them back out to her.

“You’re handwriting is better than mine.”

Reaching over, she pushed his hand back away from her and toward him with a smile.

“You plant it, you write it. That one’s yours.”

Angel looked down at the tag and marker in his hand as Camila stood and wiped her hands off on a towel beside her.

“I’m gonna go get us some juice. Come inside when you finish up.”

Camila reached over to pat his shoulder gently before starting to head back into the house while Angel stayed there, looking at his patch of dirt. Pulling the cap off the sharpie, he placed the label flat against his thigh and began writing cilantro on the front of the tag as neatly as he could. He gripped it straight and the put it back down on his leg, flipping it over and writing something down on the back before facing it to the front again and pushing the stake at the bottom of it into the soft soil. He stood then, wiping his hands together like she had done and started making his way into the house as well, ready for a glass of cold juice.

He walked in and found her standing in the kitchen, finishing up washing her hands and walking to the fridge, pulling out the glass pitcher of her homemade juice cocktail. She reached over and grabbed a glass from the drying rack and poured him some, pointing over to the sink as she held onto his glass.  

“Go wash your hands.”

Angel smiled and nodded exaggeratedly at her, turning on the water and watching as the water turned brown.

“Yes, ma’am.”

She waited for him to dry his hands and then handed him his glass, watching as he gulped down half of the glass. He pulled away after a moment and pulled the glass an arm’s length away, looking over it.

“That a new blend?”

Camila nodded and smiled brightly, holding her hands together in front of her and bouncing slowly on her heels.

“Can you tell what?”

“Cranberry for sure.”

Camila nodded and Angel looked at the glass again.

“Pomegranate?”

“Mhm. One more.”

Angel tilted his head back and forth, making a show of swirling the rest of the juice left in his glass, lifting his other hand and wafting the glass, sniffing.

“Grape.”

Shaking her head, Camila laughed.

“Close. Blueberry.”

“Blueberry juice?”

“Yep.”

“I didn’t know that was a thing.”

“Well know you know.”

Angel finished the rest of his class and placed it into the sink, starting to wash it as she waved her hand at him.

“Leave it there, I’ll get it.”

The older Reyes brother didn’t listen and finished washing his cup before turning toward her and shrugging.

“Mom always told us to wash our dishes. If you used it then you wash it.”

Camila nodded and gave a shrug of her own.

“I mean it sounds fair.”

Angel smiled then and pointed to his bag that was sitting on Camila’s couch, that she had urged him to bring.

“I’m gonna go take a shower, then we can get started on lunch.”

Camila nodded and pointed to the guest bathroom.

“Everything is in there, I set it all up for you. I’ll go take a shower too and we’ll meet back here so we can cook something up and take it over to the shop.”

Angel nodded and grabbed his bag, heading off to the bathroom while Camila looked over at her garden through the sliding glass doors at the back of the house, smiling as she saw the new area she and Angel had planted today.

Before long, they were all bathed and in the kitchen, Camila helping Angel along as he cooked lunch and packaged it, both of them heading to the carniceria to eat with Felipe. He was at the counter checking out a customer when they walked in and they went to the back, Camila placing the bag down on the metal counter as the bell rang in the shop, the customer gone and Felipe now joining them.

“What’d you bring me?”

Camila smiled as she unpacked the bag, Felipe there looking over her shoulder as she pulled the containers out. Angel looked on as she did, standing a bit off to the side behind her while she pointed to the refried beans and yellow rice.

“Angel cooked this.”

Felipe gave a soft chuckle but it died down when he saw both Angel and Camila with straight faces. He looked down at the food then and leaned down to smell it, standing back up straight and looking at Angel.

“You really made this, mijo?”

Angel scratched at the back of his neck as he nodded.

“Yeah. I mean she walked me through it and helped me out when I got pissed that the rice was taking too long but yeah, I did.”

Camila smiled at the prideful look he wore and she patted his shoulder, pulling out the hard plastic plates she had brought, serving the two men and handing them their plates, smiling as Angel kept on about how boring it was to make rice.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Camila smiled as EZ stared at her, a slight smirk hanging on his lips.

“What?”

EZ shook his head, hand holding hers as they sat together at the clubhouse bar.

“Just happy you’re mine, that’s all.”

Camila blushed at that, squeezing his hand softly.

“I feel the same way.”

EZ’s smirk transformed into a loving smile and he leaned across the tabletop, pressing his lips to hers. She kissed back for a second or two before pulling away and looking around. EZ ran his thumb along the back of her hand.

“Relax, no one is looking.”

She chuckled a bit and shook her head, a couple strands of hair falling from her low bun and into her face. EZ reached over and tucked them behind her ear, using the closeness as another opportunity to get his lips back on hers. This time she stayed in place and let him keep kissing her, leaning into him as he was into her. EZ leaned into her further and groaned slightly, wanting to closer and reaching for her thigh, only to hit his knuckles into the bottom of the bar wall. Camila laughed quietly against his mouth and he laughed too, pulling away and licking his lips. He opened his mouth for a moment, wanting to speak but closed it. He wanted to take her back to his trailer but he didn’t want to be too forward and truth be told, he was still a little rusty. Sure he had slept with a couple of sweetbutts and some of Vicki’s girls since he’d been free but it had been years since he had gone the whole nine yards and he didn’t know if he still had it or not. Camila could see his hesitation though and smiled at him, tilting her head and resting her cheek on her closed fist.

“What’s up? Talk to me.”

He hesitated for a second more before smiling and nodding at her.

“I was thinking that we could go to my trailer, get some privacy.”

Camila nodded after a second and he grabbed her hand tighter, standing and pulling her to stand with him, both of them grabbing their beers. He guided her to the front of the clubhouse, stopping to look into El Templo, seeing Bishop sitting at the head of the table, reading something and smoking. EZ called to him and the president looked up, smiling as he saw them standing there.

“I was gonna head out if that’s alright.”

Bishop nodded and held his own beer up to them, throwing Camila another friendly smile.

“Goodnight sweetheart.”

“Goodnight, Bishop.”

EZ waved at Bishop as he passed and placed his hand on Camila’s hip, walking outside with her. Angel, Gilly and Coco were sat outside at the table, smoking and talking, all of them looking over as the couple was walking by, Angel giving a low whistle as the made their way to the camper.

“You gonna make me a nephew?”

EZ groaned, flipping him off as he ushered Camila in faster, Angel’s voice getting cut off as they walked in and closed the door.

“Or a niece, don’t matter to me.”

EZ slammed the door and shook his head as Camila laughed.

“God he can be a pain in the ass.”

Camila shrugged, keeping her smile on her face.

“He’s a good guy. He’s the big brother, he has to give you shit, that’s his job.”

EZ nodded and motioned to the couch, siting beside Camila after she took a seat.

“I know, he can just be...”

EZ shook his head instead of finishing the sentence and Camila suddenly wore a more serious face, her eyes trained on his.

“He’s doing his best.”

EZ maintained the eye contact and gave a nod, thankful that not only had she warmed up to Angel quickly, but they had become decent friends over the last handful of months.

“He told me you let him garden with you.”

Camila leaned into EZ then, relaxing into his side and cuddling into him, the scent of his cologne and his kutte engulfing her.

“He asked if he could see my garden, like you did so I told him yes. He started talking about your moms garden then and I figured it would be nice for him to come and help me garden like you did. Just...give him something to focus on and relax.”

EZ smiled at that and reached over, taking her chin in his hand and pulling her head back, his mouth on hers again. She leaned into him more now, the privacy helping her relax and she turned slightly facing him now, her lips against his as his hands reached for her, pulling her body towards his. She allowed him and leaned in further, her hands on his chest and sneaking around his neck as he sat up some. He kept kissing her as he got up on his knees and started leaning her backwards until her back made contact with the couch, his body hovering over hers.

Their lips were moving faster now, her hands clinging onto him as he held himself up, a low groan rumbling in his throat as she slid her hands down his chest, nails digging ever so slightly into his abdomen though his white tee. He let his lower half rest against her and judging by the soft giggle she gave, he was sure she could feel how hard he was. She pulled away from him, trying to catch her breath and he simply trailed his lips down to her jaw, then to the front of her throat, his thumb on her chin pushing her head back slightly.

He ground himself into her subconsciously, wanting to feel both closer to her and some form of friction. The moan she gave at the feeling made him twitch and he did it again, grinding himself into her as she spread her legs further, giving him more room. He reached his hand down then hooking his fingers in the back of her knee and raising her leg, hooking it over his waist. She whimpered then, loving the feeling of him against her, hard and pulsing. Letting her head fall back some more she cursed, her hands fisting into the fabric of his shirt as they dry humped.

“Fuck, EZ.”

He smiled against her neck and finally removed his lips, looking down at her.

“Is this ok?”

Camila nodded only, not trusting that her voice wouldn’t shake in her state of arousal. EZ nodded himself then, the hand that was on her thigh, now making its way between her legs. They both gasped then when there was a sharp and rough knock on the trailer door, Angel’s voice calling to his baby brother from the other side.

“Sorry Prospect, Padrino needs us down in the tunnels, now.”

Angel left it at that, not saying more since he knew Camila was in there too. EZ couldn’t hide his annoyance this time after being interrupted once more and looked down at Camila with irritated eyes while she simply smiled and leaned her head up to press a gentle kiss to his collarbone.

“Go. I’ll get myself home. Just text me when you get back here, let me know that you’re ok and safe.”

EZ appreciated her patience and understanding, but it was her words that really struck him. Once again, it was reaffirming what Felipe had said about her being a smart girl. He hadn’t told her anything yet, nothing about what the club really did, nothing about Potter or the deal, and yet she had already concluded that whatever happened when he was called probably wasn’t safe. She cared about him, wanted him to come back in one piece, even when she didn’t know where he was or what he was doing. All she wanted was for him to come back safe, back to her. Eyes locked on hers, a swelling in his chest making his blood pump a little faster, he looked down at her and blurted out the words that had been swimming around his head for the last month.

“I love you, Camila.”

Her smile faltered then, her eyes still boring into his, now switching back and forth, searching for ridicule or humor in his eyes. When she found none, she let her eyes drift away from his, her hands feeling shaky now, the seriousness setting in. Her voice was low when she spoke again, a timidity there that was new, her dark eyes peering into his.

“I love you too, Ezekiel.”

Tag list @caramara3 @lostgirl219

[fortheheavenssake]

MM Anon 5

Dec 1

MM ANON, I’m watching series 1 of the crown, BRILLIANTLY WRITTEN AND EDITED. The filming is so accurate and attention to detail. I remember Norman Hartnell designing the Queens wardrobe for the commonwealth tour. My mother was a dress-maker so I watched everything she watched. Methinks the Queen had something to do with this because it’s so accurate. Reason, she’s 92 ‘ what a visual legacy. I can imagine her throwing a ashtray at Philip, and HIS secret dalliances. EPIC!!

—————-

Dec 1

MM ANON ……… the king in waiting ……… “Mmmmm , not many diversions left”……… in need of some TLC. ……… financial scrutiny ……… financial mutiny !!! ………… “ Don’t piss down my back and tell me it’s raining!!!!!!”………… “Catherine ‘ it’s HM” ……… “ Catherine, I want your discretion”………… “ it would be my privilege ma’am”……… “ That’s a tough one, old thing” ……… “she can do it!! “…… “makes you proud old thing, he looks the part” ……… “backseat ,a Philip?” ………… “ dot The Is…………”

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Dec 2

MM ANON … “when we are born, we cry , that we are come”…… “your RH. that’s why you didn’t go” ……… “Four” ……… ahhhhhrrr , I hate mornings!! ……… “give a dog a bone …” ………… “ yes , we’re all watching it! It’s very addictive “ ……… “ How the f***did they know that!!!”………… “ I told them Philip!!” ……… “bloody snoops” …… At the last count sir , all was Ticketyboo.

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Dec 3

MM ANON ……… “Darling’ please pass the Wrinkle cream” ………”she’s on this blog I read”💜……… “ we’ve been invited to the Boxing Day shoot” …… WoW ‘ that’s a beautiful photo Kate …… “he’s to young ‘ good grief William!!”…… ‘This cobra has no fangs ……… “The service, maybe bring C&G.” ……… “ The spring diary ma’am’ was thinking they could do The America’s and Canada” ……… “ the Children too”…… “what say you Philip?” …… “indubitable , old thing” …… “ Settled!!”……” Sidney’ more refreshments”

——————

Dec 4

MM ANON ……… lovers not-on or emerald??…… Alexander McQueen green machine??……… Clean sweep!!!……………Trump wants his ball back…… Banquetiquette ……… “ One has to watch the hot mike Donald!!”……… Meanwhile’ crying in a corner……” a clash of Wills”……… “come on old thing,tell me all the gossip”………” Sydney ‘ gin and Du……” “ Ones a tad exhausted “…… “ you looked stunning Catherine “……… “yes ‘ I saw your killer 👀side eye “…… 👑👑💕💕And so to bed Zebedee!!……… “ Lottie ‘turn your pad off!!”…George’ sleep!!

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Dec 5

MM ANON …… “ no, not the service”……… Strip and rip…… IRSt in peace……” I think you’ll find it best ma’am”…… “ exactly ‘ peace and quiet”…… Distant thunder ……… “On Her Majesty’s secret service”…… No!! Not the whole enchilada………… The dossier, almost complete!!…… “Yes!! It certainly is personal”……… “she lived by the sor-did…… “gather thee rosebuds …………”…… “ not a word,old boy”. ……… “ Mmmm, unfortunate name for a club”……… “a sticky wicket,what!

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Dec 6

MM ANON … BREAKING NEWS ……… ‘ PGs WRINKLE CREAM FAILED MEGHAN-MARKLE AFTER EXHAUSTING APPLICATIONS. 😱😱😱😱 . Beautician suggests plastic surgery, no hope on skin care ……… laser treatment doesn’t cure problem. 🤣🤣🤣

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Dec 6

MM ANON …… megbots in crisis …… megs spotted on ISS…… megs searchers internet for archificial upgrade …… megs still breastfeeding …… frogcott staff witness meg and Harry in screaming row 😱……… meg accused of bugging KP……… meg and archbishop in risqué photo shoot …… Archbishop denies clergy gossip …… meg ,VF interview ‘ I hate my chicken legs ‘…… Harry in GQ interview, I want a divorce ‘…… GQ, shock ‘horror, Harry’s OK’…… meg pens, ‘confessions of my yachting years’. … $20 million advance.

Thank you MM Anon😊❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

MM ANON, todays post is a light hearted look at the relationship between M&H. ……… to all who interprets, my sincere apologies. 🤣🤣🤣 KEEP CALM AND MEGXIT.

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Dec 6

MM ANON 🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻Prayers for victims of shooting at navy base in Florida. 🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻 God grant the serenity to accept the things you cannot change. God bless the families involved. 🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻

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Dec 6

MM ANON …… Muffin the mule…… looby loo & Andy pandy …… 95 , time!!…… “no’ not chaz”’……… “ I’m Meghan Markle and I indorse this massage” ……” An American Christmas card”…… betrayal in B&W……… “ it’s HMTQ your talking about!!!”…… “ tell her to PO ‘ it’s the Boxing Day shoot”……… 🎼I’m dreaming of a right Christmas 🎼…… a shortie but goody.

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Dec 6

MM ANON …💜💜💜💜💜💜💜🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻💜💜💜💜💜💜💜DEAR SKIPPY, WE HAVE EARTH ANGELS IN OUR HUMBLE MIST. GIANTS OF FORTITUDE, GODS OF DIVINITY AND LOVERS OF QUIET HUMILITY , TO ALL WHO WALK THE ROAD LESS TRAVELED WE ARE BLESSED BY YOUR AURA OF PROTECTION AND LOVE.

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Dec 7

MM ANON …… subpoenaed to swim uphill…… “withdrawal with notoriety”……… “pony!! “ she has no fear Catherine”……… “wherever did she get this wilfulness ?…… YOU!!!!…… “Philip will help me write it!!”……… “caution ma’am”……… “no colourful language”…… “ are you pensive LG”…… “frighteningly apprehensive ma’am”…… “I trust my subjects”………”one communicates with Netflix” ………”OMG😱😱”……”The Diana Years”……” it’s confidential LG!!”

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Dec 8

MM ANON …… not an engaging situation …… my LITTLE pony……… WOC-less……… We’re just mild about Harry …… a charitable laundromat ……… expenses,expenses ………”it’s a Multi million business, trim it”…… hangers OFF!!……… ‘‘twas the night before Christmas”……… a conservative Royalist ……… 12th night ……… morning sic -ness……… “ say goodnight Gracie.

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Dec 9

MM ANON ……… Re-Hab-itual behaviour ……” Gone In sixty seconds”…… ( six weeks?) ……… no sight, sound or visual,no optics???? …… old photos, photo shops and disinformation!!……… “ there OK, ma’am!!”…… “ones duty is, keep muddying the waters”…… The Peoples Princess, WHAT!!! ……… “capitalise on it ma’am”…… “AMERICA”…… “are you a gambling man LG?”……… “ only on absolutes”…… Charlotte’s wish-list Web 🤣🐴🦄🎼💕……… “what’s that racket basil”… “It’s Brahms, Brahms 4th racket”🤣🤣🤣🤣

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Dec 9

MM ANON, Dearest skippy, your blog is a cutting-edge example of investigative information and in depth research by your helpers. This community YOU have created is visited by world tabloids , broadsheets and cable TV. Some even associate royalty and the establishment. How many times “ RIGHT HERE,RIGHT NOW!!” has the SKIPPY 20. been spot on. EPIC POSTING,EPIC INVESTIGATIVE DIGGING. ‘JUST EPIC!! BRAVA SKIPPY.

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Dec 10

MM ANON, Soooooo, Nutmeg … The merchandisers whore, has been reprimanded after 2 years of pimping out anything she wears for financial gain …… NO OTHER MEMBER OF THE FIRM DOES THIS, the salacious saleswhore and professional grifter has soiled the monarchy enough!! “ listening H !!! ‘ the public see right through this obnoxious interloper, the gathering of unhappy people are testimony to this couples blatant disregard of royal prerogative. This nonentity must go. ⚖️⚖️⚖️⚖️Justice must prevail.

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Dec 10

MM ANON …… Predictions Guaranteed …… W&K increases commitment …… 🎼”no other love have i”🎼……… mummy serves a Christmas ace……4-0-tee-love…… advantage HMTQ …… nutmeg, FAULT!! …… DOUBLE FAULT!!…… Game, Set and scratch🤣🤣🤣…… “ these are actors,as I foretold you “………” thar’s gold in them thar Hills”………… 🎼”HOLLYWOOOOOOOD”🎼……… “An exit strategy LG.”……🎄 seasonal Sandringham🎄…… “I WANT A POOOOOOOOONY” ,please.🎅🎅😘😘😘………… “ ask your father!!……… ask your mother!! ……… ask Gan Gan. !!😂😂😂

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Dec 10

MM ANON, The first with the most news breaking!!!! The DOC is with child. PG said back in Nov. did I give a clue????? Can’t remember what yesterday’s riddle was 🤣🤣🤣🤣 I’m a mess of jumbled messages,and perhaps a little nuts. RIGHT HERE RIGHT NOW. speculation of course.

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MM ANON! ……… TRIBUTE TO TRUTH!! 💜💜💜💜 SALUTATIONS PG. TO SKIPPY AND THE BLOG COMMUNITY OF DEDICATED CONTRIBUTORS AND HELPERS. FOR HMTQ AND GBHMTQAOGC. TO THE curious who visit skippy, royal family,establishment and aristocracy. Thank you for your support. even the intellectually challenged misguided sugars who visit the bloggers blog. SALUTATIONS ALL. the truth will out. 💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜

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Dec 10

MM ANON , re-Full work mode. Don’t loose track of the fact that this full on grifting colonial carpetbagger has Sunshine Sucks!! It’s a desperate juggernaut of spin , lies and everything in between. That’s why they call it “pubic relations.” ……… just think ‘ sex lies and video tapes. So PLEEEEEEZ. take this bull$h!t with a pinch of salt. Nutmeg lives and dies swimming in PR turds. It’s the nature of that particular beast. It’s simple physics, shit floats to the surface. 🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣

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Dec 10

MM ANON …… Dear anon, a big juicy revaluation?????? Well dear friend,I give what ,and all information I’m given by my esteemed sources. Those sources are well under the establishment radar. Total anonymity,TOTAL!!! The wonderful information is sometimes current,sometimes elaborate and embellished sometimes “spot on!!!” So’ I’ll continue to inform and enlighten as is my want and skippy’s indulgence. GBHMTQAOGC

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Dec 10

MM ANON. , dear hearts , The loneliness of the long distance grifter, the isolation and contempt of the family “ she never had” and desertion of former associates in crime are deserting her in proverbial droves. The lifetime gravy boat she contemplated has listed ,and is rapidly sinking beneath the sea of turds she created for her self centred indulgence. This is our observation and her reality. NB. There is video evidence of her “ habits” from the , “ good old snorting days”. Allegedly!! 🤣🤣🤣

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Dec 10

MM ANON, Trolls have one positive point, they validate the existence of those they resent , they justify that resentment by insults and jibes infantile name calling and illiterate smears. Trolls are degenerate operatives of fallen social climbers,those sad creatures of the ones who once tolerated them but now have nothing left but contempt. Nutmeg is such a creature, an abysmal product of her own greed and failed dreams. How the might have ,have fallen. 🤣🤣🤣

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Dec 11

MM ANON, The anomaly that reportedly exists called archificial is a mystery of unfathomable proportions. The vision of it at the Tutu audience is somewhat baffling, nutmegs obvious unease and awkward stance when trying to hold the poor child,who reaches for… somebody it knows. The whole situation has never been experienced within a minor Royal situation. Nutmeg & Harry are causing ripples 🤣🤣🤣🤣😂😂😂😂🤣🤣🤣🤣’ will the Christmas card explain more?????? Curiosity awaits!!!!

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Dec 11

MM ANON ………🎼 jingle smells, jingle smells 🎼……… 🎼” I’m dreaming of a POC Christmas”🎼…… “ no Christmas chemicals or alcohol in re-hab”……… “ on a whiter note”…… “ come on Lottie ‘ aunties found a little pony” …… “ So !!! You caved darling.”…… “well ‘ it’s Christmas!!”……… “not turkey ‘ Dover sole!!”… “ but it’s tradition Philip”……“ f**** tradition !!”…… “I’ll inform Sydney”…… “are you going to announce it old thing?”…… ANOTHER COUNTRY … “He’s a brilliant speech writer” …… “you’ll bloody need it

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Dec 11

MM ANON, 🎼she wore blueeeeeeeee velvet 🎼 and the lovers knot,and HMTQ In emeralds

Ok you all! These are hints she gave us….now let’s match to the riddles…..and of note…..she kept talking about the Emeralds….we presumed Kate……she never said Kate…..❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

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Dec 12

MM ANON ………emeralds should do the trick …… they certainly did…… W&K the lovers knot ………💍 a ring (Rock) of ages…… No Sin-ders you WON’T go to the ball😂😂……… 🎼”re-hab’ I said ,know know know!!!”🎼…… “ we ALL KNOW nutmeg!!”…… “GOD’ she’s in all the papers Philip”…… “ I see, she’s beautiful old thing”…… “she shines Philip”……… Wanta Konta and Kate🎾🎾…… Boris the spider…… “ doesn’t matter who you vote for, the government get in !!”…… sneezing ponytails 🐴🐴

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Dec 12

MM ANON, …… Princess Margaret’s Limerick at President Lyndon Johnson’s dinner party ‘ I quote … “ there was a young lady from Dallas, … Who used dynamite as a phallus,… blowing her tits to bits , Her vagina to China ,and her @sehole to Buckingham Palace. …… forgive the colourful language, but it is funny. 😂😂😂😂😂

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Dec 12

MM ANON , We all remember Fergie and the toe sucking/ pool screwing photos so for her to aligned herself with nutmeg is probably a “ girl’s of a feather “ both are ageing slappers , and who in God’s dear sweet world takes Sarah bloody Ferguson seriously , really REALLY !!! She’s always been an embarrassment to the firm , hated by PP and PC/Camilla PA. so it’s all a smoking mirrors BS-fest. And her association with Epstein, ……… give me a break!!!!!

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Dec 12 - Election Day, UK

MM ANON, …… Princess Margaret’s Limerick at President Lyndon Johnson’s dinner party ‘ I quote … “ there was a young lady from Dallas, … Who used dynamite as a phallus,… blowing her tits to bits , Her vagina to China ,and her @sehole to Buckingham Palace. …… forgive the colourful language, but it is funny. 😂😂😂😂😂

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Dec 12

MM ANON, WELL ‘WELL ‘WELL …… nutmeg is apoplectic in re-hab after this mornings papers are FULL of photos of The fragrant Kate and HMTQ in Vlad & lovers knot tiaras. Her sugars are like Lemmings jumping of off Beachy Head 😂😂🤣🤣 and Fergie facedump is identifying with the old slapper because they both caught shagging by the poolside. 😂😂😂. EPIC

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Dec 13

MM ANON …… Cor’ bin a long night!!…… “ Darling ‘ it’s an allagee-gee” ……” majori-ty and crumpets ma’am”…… “ “That’s all ,I’m orf to Sandringham”……… George&Kate set and match…”that’s it Lottie ‘ walk on !!”…… “ I did it auntie Zara”…… “ Ducks in a row then Netty?”……… “Nurse!! What’s the bleeding time”?…… A little procedure!!…… “ the lids screwed down ma’am”……… “ones writing ones screech”…… “he’s coming Philip!!” …… “backlash old thing?”………… “it’s a Norwegian Blue Philip 😂😂”

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Dec 13

MM ANON, WELL ‘WELL ‘WELL …… nutmeg is apoplectic in re-hab after this mornings papers are FULL of photos of The fragrant Kate and HMTQ in Vlad & lovers knot tiaras. Her sugars are like Lemmings jumping of off Beachy Head 😂😂🤣🤣 and Fergie facedump is identifying with the old slapper because they both caught shagging by the poolside. 😂😂😂. EPIC

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Dec 13

MM ANON, NEVER A LONELY CHRISTMAS 🎄🎄🎄🎄🎄Dear hearts , never will the soul that is Skippy abandon you this Christmas ,or her community of spiritual warriors, there love is endless, this is the land of earths angels 👼 and animal amazements. Join the fellowship of friends and hugs. God bless you all ,thank you Dearest skippy, no lonely soul this Christmas. 💜💜💜❤️❤️❤️💚💚💚

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Dec 14

MM ANON ……… Blueeeeeeee velvet …… pop pop Poppins ……… she met Mary ………” Mmmmmm , a bit sneeeeezy”……… “ we’ll go and get something really silly for her” …… it’s not a phone, it’s a MPC…… “ it’s all very Cloak & dagger”…… “ Catherine, I’m deadly serious!!”……… “meals on bloody wheels!! piss orf”……… Shut down everything!! ………… “A new broom,old thing”…………… “ well, ones not amused “………… “I’ll inform Sydney”……… From Cromer!!……… “Cromer???”

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Dec 15

MM ANON, sidebar’ thank you skippy,my favourite colour ROYAL BLUE / INDIGO mix. or blue velvet ‘ a joy. as you inform all the community in a couple of weeks we won’t remember anything else. I have a question dear heart ❣,are you broadcasting over Christmas 🎄 ? My Christmas is spent with a few friends of likeminded opinions. Belgravia is alive and festive. We shall wander into Chelsea to people watch and mull the wine and mince the tarts. Looking forward to wishing all a healthy Christmas 🎄.

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Dec 15

MM ANON ………… 🎼” give a little, take a little”🎼…… “Mary, Mary, quite …………”……FBI , (under the stones)……… “ very succinct old thing”…… “ blunt’ Philip!”……… “its a beautiful yacht ma’am” ………… “ I fear 20, more than 19” ………TO THE VICTOR……”………… a little late dear friend ……… WHITEHALL NOW!! …… only one came ……… IF , dear boy IF”……… “ you were only supposed to blow the bloody doors off”

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Dec 16

ANON, OMG’ something every royal father and mother dread…… “ can’t we take them back to our house, it’s HUGE!!” ( homeless inquiry’s by G&C. ) it’s like “ what’s electrickery” …… or “ why is the sky blue?”… so , Catherine’s response, “ I’ll ask Gan, Gan darling, maybe they’ll find a safe space for them ……… “ I know mummy, they could all live in Gan gans house” 😒😒😒😒 side eyes to William, William changes subject to pony’s and tennis.

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Dec 16

MM ANON, Sooooo’ Nutmeg And himself won’t be At Wednesday’s Turkey nosh at BP ,Mmmmm , no surprise there Ma’am. The insolent obnoxious self indulgent hoe and her now husband see’s it fitting to snub the invitation. Truth be known everyone is waving flags that she’s staying with her Calipornia besties , if they exist?? The anomaly in this puzzle, no comment from himself?? WHY? One would expect one to” come clean” and stop the speculation, strangely strange!!! On the fence? What’s happening?

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Dec 16

MM ANON, praises, salutations, respect, recognition, I stand in awe of the interpretations that anons gracefully post when sifting through the mine field of riddles. It’s an almost psychic melt of another’s thinking 💭 🤔 THANK YOU DEAR ANONS , AND MAY YOU CONTINUE INTO 2020 WITH TENACIOUS DILIGENCE AND APTITUDE. 💜💚❤️

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Dec 17

MM ANON , There used to be British comedy called Kevin and Perry…… two obnoxious teenagers, Kevin always used the argument “ it’s soooooo unfair!!” , this reminds me of that self pitying tw** nutmeg crying over perception of her importance!!! HOW CAN SOMEONE WHO IS IRRELEVANT BE IMPORTANT ???? THEIR PR IS IN OVERDRIVE DESPERATELY SEEKING EXPOSURE AND DEAR K&W IS KNOCKING THEM BACK EVERY DAY. nutmeg hiding in a cubicle screaming and kicking “ it’s sooo unfair” 🤣🤣🤣

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Dec 17

MM ANON , Methinks anon may be on the right track. Nutmegs Christmas card will be something that flips the bird at the establishment. Giving the middle finger to the royal family and her critics, bet whatever it is it won’t be subtle. The vacuous tart is resentful and insecure so she’ll be out to insult and justify her existence , although we all know it’s irrelevant, expect the unexpected. Tutu, B&W , archificial playing football, tits and bums , expect anything and everything

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Dec 17

MM ANON, A very Mary Christmas,has knocked the irrelevant one from the tabloids and broadsheets. W&K are right,left and centre of ALL stories today. What seems to be obvious is that William and Kate come across as relatable and normal, unlike the portentous and phoney nutmegs. Forgive my observation ,himself looks like he’s shot himself in both feet, all the stroking,touching claw holding, is sickening to observe. You could have fooled me he’s not with her. BUT!!! we’ll see at Sandringham.

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Dec 17

MM ANON …… The Christmas Royal choreography ……… Homeless hope……… “not just for Christmas”…… quiet compassions ……… Brits rage at nutmeg……… “ it’s Harry Jim,But not as we knew him”……… “ what’s the answer Spock?”……… EST…… “ eat your vegetables!!”……… “ but mummy, that’s sooooo unfair” ……… “no veg, no pony!!”……… “well from a PR standpoint, it’s an annual thing now”………… “ front and centre ma’am”……… “quite agree!!” ……… “Philip ??” ……… “people identify old thing”……… “ The Sandringham songbirds”

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Dec 18

MM ANON, Today The HMTQ will retire to the warming confines Of Sandringham. Reunited with PP and relaxing evenings in front of a real log fire 🔥. Sydney will be on call to deliver copious amounts of ones favourite tipple. Writing her speech and watching back episodes of Downton Abbey. Occasionally taking trips around the vast estate in the royal Land Rover. A relaxing few days before the tribe descend on them for the festivities 🥳. CHRISTMAS CARDS PLEASE !!!!

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Dec 18

MM ANON …… we are in the age of fast transport. Depending on what mode of royal conveyance Sandringham is one hour from London. ( to anon stuck in the 18th century). A cool Yule to all anons 🎄🎄🎄🎄🎄🎄🎄🎄🎄🎄🎄🎄

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Dec 18

MM ANON ……… 🎼tis’ the season’ ……… 🎼……… “Tighter than ones ducks @ss under water ma’am”…… “indubitably LG, send the letters!!”……… “ Netty has it stitched!!”……… I think they were spotted on Elba……… someone saw them in Calvi ……… “Hmmmm, the historical significance doesn’t escape me”……… “ what say you Philip?”……” who gives a sh**, fancy a drinky?

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Dec 18

Anonymous asked:

MM ANON, The dynamic trio’ GC&L , these three children are about to embark on their life adventure, and yes’ I can see them taking over the world, first George, moulded by and coached by his father he will be diplomatic and educated in high tech and security of the family ,think oxford illuminati crossed with Bond. He will grow into a handsome man , followed and pursued by bright well educated beautiful women. He’ll be guided by his parents on who is a suitable girl friend, there will be many.

skippyv20 answered:

Oh yes indeed! Thank you😊❤️❤️❤️❤️

skippyv20

MM ANON / Part 2, Charlotte, Now this young woman to be will become the conflict within herself, opinionated and self willed she will be a laser focused neutral beauty of formidable character, mindful of her station she will develop compassion and empathy with her loving public, this will be a PRINCESS OF AND FOR THE PEOPLE, much loved in all circles of society, willing to get down and dirty and attend diplomatic banquets on the same day. Versatile perfection and stunning looks, 👀. Look out!!

MM ANON. Part 3/ Louis, this young man to be will find himself in a singular activity, I can see him as an explorer of his chosen passion. Space will become very important in 2040. and this young man could well be a pioneer in his chosen field. There may be a conflict and he will be part of that environment. No fear this soldier of fortune, And Again a handsome man followed by swooning beautiful young ladies. He will be advised once again to choose wisely. Speculation of course.

Sounds so wonderful! Thank you😊❤️❤️❤️❤️

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Dec 19

MM ANON …… Kate’s Christmas present to nutmeg …… Wrinkle cream!!😱😱…… new year getaway W&K……The Firm views pre-recorded QS. ……… A Royal decade, the 20,20s. …… “ up a gear ma’am”…… “ Keep calm and ostracise LG”…… 🎬it’s a wonderful life 🎬…… “ FROZEN mummy!!!”………”STAR WARS daddy!!”……… OMG ‘ it’s her Christmas card ……… “ we never received one” …… “ bloody lucky you!! “…… 🎼bye bye miss American pie🎼……… Kate’s tabloid cull…… “ what’s your 20?”

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Dec 19

MM ANON, THE CAMBRIDGE CHRISTMAS CARD. The M/ Cycle is a Triumph engine in a Rickman-Mettisse frame/ sidecar. Circa, 1955 ish’ The Duke being an ardent Biker, (photos of him sitting on a Norton Brietling at the IOM last year.) I’m sure he still goes on “race days at Brands Hatch”. Fast and safe ,all of this is testimony to a visionary CCard to show the world a relaxed and tight family unit. Unportentous and normal. It could be any family in any decade. 

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Dec 19

MM ANON, Spending two thirds of your life with your legs open is a consequence of ones occupation, nutmegs stance has been an open book (legs) since we first saw her trundle into KP gardens. At every photographic opportunity she has her legs apart it’s a habit of the life she chose. ‘S’pose life transactions that include money in your hand ,smile on ones face and legs apart can only suggest what your occupation was ?? Yachting takes its toll, only speculation 🤣🤣🤣.

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Dec 20

MM ANON. BREAKING NEWS/ PP TAKEN TO KING EDWARD VII HOSPITAL IN LONDON THIS MORNING. OUR THOUGHTS AND PRAYERS🙏🏻

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Dec 20

MM ANON ………an unwelcome intrusion ……… “ and it was all going so well” …… “ sweeping the the whole bloody house!! “…… fun and games ……… C&G play charades …… Def-Con 4……… “150 million expected ma’am”…… “ my little Pony”…… mini scrambler,🏍Wow!!…… “grouse for the grown-ups”…… “dial it back ma’am?”……” what happens in Sandringham, stays in Sandringham”…… “Charles, see to the RPOs”…… “ night before Christmas,and all round the house “………… Great Expectations

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Dec 21

MM ANON ……… “ it’s a tad cautionary ma’am”……… visiting hours only!!! ……… “ no bloody fuss, piss off” ……… “ and SYDNEY!! no drinks !!!”……… she’s here until January …… Diplomatic immunity…… one way in, one way out!!……… Full cover’ face recognition and sleeper van. ……… “ 🎼the kids are alright!!👀🎼”……… “ to start with’ it’s a 50cc Yam.”……… “ a pony has more torque” ……… “stop worrying Catherine!!”…… “It’s His Decision”……… “ I’ll meet, just say when!! “.

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Dec 22

MM ANON ……… George in the mix. …… a royal blackout …… pensive at the Forth Bridge …… “ Royal Bostic sir”…… “ unity ma’am!!”……… Done and Dusted ……… No Card???……… Christmas IG word salad and virtue massage …… …… rapidly dissolving PR……… “ when in doubt use mental health” ……… “we need a distraction ma’am”……… it’s a win, win !!……… “that’s a silly jumper William”

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Dec 24

MM ANON …… yesterday’s riddle?? ……… Christmas Eve prayer’s …… 2.09 pm in England …… not on my watch. ………… Father Christmas 🎄 comes to Sandringham …… nutmegs not here 🥳🥳🥳🥳🥳…… Mike incognito ……… Lost in Space ………” Yes , but dress them warm”. ……… A long wait for the faithful …… everyone is vetted and counted. …… it begins for little royals……” Andrew!!!”…… “Bloody hell’ I’m here you know!!” ……… “Ahhhh, Lobster 🦞 Bisque!!” ……… “Overtired!!”

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Dec 25

MM ANON …… Security , at church service is stitched up like a kipper. RPO is unobtrusive but very present. Notice HMTQ never left alone, always surrounded. GBHMTQAOGC

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Dec 25

MM ANON …… Lottie kills it with pink flamingo … 🥳🥳absent madam🥳…absentee ginger …… K&W now it’s a new monarchy!! …… happy Christmas to all our readers …… UK migrant terrorist alert …… PA on silent running …… skippy breaking news about Lottie on Christmas walk way back……… right here, right now!! ……… DM follows skippy …… dogs behind.

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Dec 25

It’s the time lag. ……… MM ANON ……… to all on the bloggers blog!! 9.26 am. At time of post. A Very special day to all , Christmas, pets , those flying, those being cuddled. Happy Christmas 🎄🎄🎄🎄🎄🎄🎄💜💜💜💜💜💜💜 skippy Family, 💜💜🙏🏻🙏🏻PG💜💜🙏🏻🙏🏻LK🙏🏻🙏🏻💜💜to all 🙏🏻🙏🏻💜

Thank you dear MM Anon! Merry Christmas💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜

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Dec 25

MM ANON 💜💜💜 HAPPINESS TO ALL THIS CHRISTMAS 🎄 🎄🎄🎄🎄🎄🎄🎄🎄💜💜💜💜💜💜💜

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Dec 26

MM ANON ……… Morning paper!! ……… OMG………… she’s a superstar ………… “ your the one who wanted this” ………… “we’ve started a monster”……… 🎼I’m alumberjackandimOK🎼………… don’t go and tell them……… just friends!! ……… 🎼Substitute 🎼……… tumblr is a crap site……… you’ll miss me ……… stop listening to the static. ………… we need the space

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Dec 27

MM ANON …… Right here,Right now!! …………… lots of faithful followers ……… Skippy for news going into New year ……… sales of wrinkle cream skyrockets ……… Vancouver, Smancouver ………… DISINFORMATION …… “ May the force be with you “……… “ Lies, she tells, grifter she is!!”…… hiking,shmiking ……… Archificial in-samination…… happy new lies ……… PR incredulous …… Canada turns its back!!……… “ not another bloody photo!!”…… “ stupid bloody card!,”……… “ another Snifter old thing?”

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Dec 28

MM ANON ……… illusions of grandeur ………not in my Restaurant ……… Canada snubbing you. …… Britain will boo you……… LA New Years …… go to Alaska!!! ……… C&G new found fame ……… W&K , curb there enthusiasm ……… mid-wife’s helper……………United monarchy ………New Years at the Middletons. ……… “who said it.” … “he used to be more accommodating” ………… an empty £4,000,000 joke……… “ he’s not impressed” ………… “ that ship has sailed

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Dec 28

MM ANON … Many thanks for your input in 2019. Wishing you a happy new year. ❤️❤️❤️

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Dec 29

MM ANON, …… Thank you for all you diligently working on the riddles. 💜💜💜❤️❤️❤️ You are the real stars of MM ANON, you are the ones the skippetts look forward to reading. You’re there ( make it easy) day. To understand the riddles and give us the answers is a selfless action of altruism. Thank you all , especially PG and LK 💜💜💜❤️❤️❤️ God bless you all and a happy new year.

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Dec 29

MM ANON …… I have a minor task……… Due Diligence ……… 🎼And here you go again 🎼……… “ They will encounter a heavy work load”…………”it’s not impossible”………… The one thing we can’t take for granted ……… SNAKES and ladders ……… “she only comes out at night” ………… A challenging time ahead …… not their best decision ………… They have all the answers ……… The return will be difficult, if they return??………… make or break!!

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Dec 30

ANON , On New Year’s Eve Eve , we give thanks for the tribulations of 2019 because without them we couldn’t face 2020. We know what to expect, more two faced lies , action and disinformation via their PR. So expect more of the same and more of us with skippy’s help and the help of anons can plough through the coming year. Mutual support and tenacity demands our continuous vigilance. Joyous new year. 

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Dec 31

MM ANON …… “ happy new year to all our readers”…… 20.20. predictions ……… MM implosion ………Keep it quite!!………G&C in the viralsphere …… K&W keep it real ……… C&C relax duties ……… The best of the best……… 🎼if your sweet heart sends a letter 🎼………🎼 keep on runnin 🎼………… lack of vision ……… “ she’s blind as a BAT”……… Times Squared…… “ ring out the old, welcome the new”

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[paladinsheadcanons]

Hey Mod Ash, can you write about Tyra and Ash's first kiss?

Not only is this too long, this took a while, so I do have to apologize! Writer’s block is terrible. Also, I had a plan for something like this way back but I kinda forgot about it???? idk 

I didn’t edit this thoroughly so I apologize for any errors!

- Mod Ash

Reunions were supposed to be sweet.

Seeing Tyra again after years alone was a relief. After theSentinels, Ash had no way of knowing if she was fine, and Tyra made sure thatno one in the Magistrate knew where she is headed or where her home is in thefar reaches of the Realm. She had tried to at least follow her, or find outwhere she has situated herself, in the guise of the usefulness of the knowledgeof it. But nothing really came up… until now.

Ash, however, did not really envision them seeing each otherin the middle of another fight. She is not sure what she is doing here, even.She looks so… different from the last time she has seen her, her confidenceseeping out of every pore like she is the very bear that refuses to becomeprey, brandishing her kill over her shoulders and taking more selfless, bolderstrikes to their direction.

She did not think she would see her again in the other sideof the battle, on a mighty steed and ready to attack. Tyra takes a good longlook around the battlefield, and locked eyes with Ash for a split second,before pulling the reins of her horse and diving straight into the thick of theforest, away from the clearing and the fight.

She hears one of her sergeants scream for Tyra and exclaimsthat they will follow her into the thick to kill the “traitor” before she getsto the safehouse. The thought alone twists her guts up in a knot, and sheimpulsively stops the sergeant in their tracks

“No,” she exclaims, stepping forward to stop them. Shecontemplates for a split second the rationality of her decision, but it is fartoo late for that. “I’ll do that.”

“But ma’am, the traitor—”

“You heard me.” The war machine steps forward, almostscaring the sergeant to relent. She gathers her own steed as well, and pushesstraight into where she saw Tyra dive in.

She does not know her purpose right now – why she’s here,why she’s doing this, and if somehow the huntress has found herself embroiledonce more in the civil war Ash has thought she’d left the Magistrate to avoid.There were not much parting words, not much farewell when she had left; onlythe fact that there were several things unanswered.

As the forest thickens, the trees and their shade darkeningthe golden light of the afternoon, she seems to have lost the sight of her, butshe can hear her rather clearly, the horse’s loud, quick pace giving her away.Her first instinct is to shoot where she’s coming from, to take down her maneat least, but she stops, remembering that to kill is not her intention. In thefew seconds the sounds near and louden, she thinks up of something quick.

Checking the state of her cannon, Ash fires a warning shotby Tyra’s path. She could not see much with the dirt and soil it sent flyingeverywhere… but judging from the horse and the vague silhouette she can makeout of her pulling in the reins, it seems successful with at least stopping herin her tracks.

As the dust settles, Tyra turns up and looks, struggling tokeep her mane in one place. Surprise is quickly written all over her face asshe sees Ash, and for a few moments she does not do anything as Ash takes hertime going down her steed.

And then both hands fly to her rifle and its barrel trainedstraight at the war machine.

Ash doesn’t flinch. But she does not stay silent, either.

“You’re back.”

Tyra seems taken aback by how unaggressive Ash sounds, buther rifle remains trained at the war machine, wary. “Drop your weapon.”

She does so without question, chucking the heavy cannon atTyra’s feet, kicking it closer to the huntress. “You done now?”

“I’m going through.” Tyra’s voice is somewhat hoarse, heraccent slightly thicker than Ash remembers it. The gun lowers slightly, but shemoves a little past her with the gun still trained at her and keeping a closeeye. “I need you to not move and letme go to where I’m supposed to go.”

Ash raises her hands in part-defeat. “I’m not here to stopyou.”

“Bullshit.” She slaps in a new magazine in her rifle, makingsure the one she had on was full. “Let me go where I need to go and maybe I’llbelieve you.”

“Can’t we talk for now?”

Tyra seems to chuckle. “What for? There’s nothing to talkabout.”

“What, you just expect me to accept you’re back after fiveyears and now I have to kill you? Are you nuts? What kind of idiot leaveswithout saying anything--”

“Ugh, I don’t have time for this!” Tyra pushes past the warmachine – with surprising force and lack of restraint. “If you’re not going todo your damn job, then I’ll just go ahead.”

“Will you talk to me if I swear to you I will see it uponmyself to destroy the safehouse and set the hostages free?”

Tyra’s eyes narrow in skepticism as she turns around. “Andwhy would I trust you?”

“You know me.” Ash offers a hand. “Do you think I would makea promise I can’t keep?”

The huntress just ignores it. “Five years will do lots to aperson, Ash. I don’t buy your crap.”

“Well, you’ll just have to believe me, because I am notletting you pass and I am in control here.” Ash ignores the gun pointed at herand establishes herself right in front of the direction Tyra is supposed to go.“You just have to trust me.”

“Yes, it is very much like you to take control of shityou’re not supposed to.”

“I picked it up from you.”

“Don’t be foolish. Do you think it’s my choice to be back?I’m not here because I wanted to.” Tyra seems to try to intimidate her, as shelowers her rifle and walks up to Ash, seeing her eye to eye like how one wouldprey before talking them on. “Seeing you and all this past shit with you andthe Sentinels is shitty, but I will do what I need to—"

“No, you left, and you did not tell the other Sentinels, noteven me where you’re going—"

“You’re not the onlyreason I left, you walnut, theSentinels and the mission was the main reason and you better stop feeling likeyou had any major role in my li—ASH!”

Tackling Tyra was ridiculously easy. Compared to her, shewas small, and as she swats her rifle out of her hands and pins down herwrists, she could see Tyra’s eyes widen, and for a second, she does not movenor struggle. Was it fear, surprise on her face…? Good! Ash inches closer,shifting her weight to give Tyra a little more freedom, but makes it clear shewould not let go any second.

“I’d be angry on how you’re the one who’s being annoyedabout leaving,” Ash grumbled. Tyra swallows in nervousness and has given up onstruggling against Ash’s weight altogether but listens intently. “But I missedyou… and you’re here now. And you can’t tell me how to feel after not seeingyou for years. Can you just tell me the otherreasons why?”

Realization seems to sink down Tyra’s face, and she avoidsAsh’s gaze for a second, assessing how the war machine has her pinned down. Shelooks up at Ash, fear softening to confusion, looking like she is not sure whatto say first. In the end, she gives up, sighing as she tries to relax.

“I just…” Tyra stumbles with her words a little, unsure howto articulate her thoughts. She sees like she didn’t want to speak, but feltlike she needed to, given the situation. “I didn’t know.”

Ash swallows, avoiding the gaze as well as the odd guilt yearsback. “It was not appropriate at the time.”

“It would have been better.”

“I know.” Ash sighs. “I know, but… the circumstances weren’tright.”

She reaches out to Ash, hands by her cheek. She wordlesslycaresses, but she doesn’t do anything, seemingly hesitant. “I’m sorry I madeyou think that way. I was not as vocal either.”

“Five years.” The war machine sounds almost betrayed, butTyra knows there’s more to it. “Five years and you didn’t contact me or sayanything?”

“There’s a lot in the line.” Tyra’s voice is soft, gentle.Her hands cradle against Ash’s cheek, still hesitant, hands freezing by herneck. “My feelings are not important.”

“Maybe you should love yourself as much as I love you,then.” Slowly, Ash closes the distance, noses brushing as she tries to acquaintherself with the feeling, until strong hands situates themselves by the nape ofher neck to meet their lips. Tyra is not letting go of her any soon, and she keeps her grip of her tight,establishing her presence as she breathes against her and she feels her warmth.

Theinnocent enthusiasm sinks in, the small realization that this is the first boutof physical affection they have expressed for each other, and Ash tries tocontrol her pacing, descending slightly to bite her lower lip softly, trying totake the pace to her own, eliciting a breath from the huntress. She could stillfeel Tyra’s hands by her nape and cradling her, but they seem to just hoverthere, not forcing or pushing.

Noses brushagainst each other as Tyra adjusts her angle, parting slightly, foreheadstouching. Slowly, she smiles. She doesn’t push, and half-lidded eyes admire thewoman before her. A part of Ash wishes she can somehow live this a littlelonger.

“You know,”Tyra starts, softly and barely audible. “This is a good day to start as any.”

Ash dipsdown for a quick kiss once more, before she gets her weight off her,somehow mournful of parting the distance. She is not certain what to say. Sheis happy, definitely; however the realization sinks in that it is not somethingshe can really come to terms with. She does have to keep her distance. She isan enemy in the Magistrate’s eyes, now that they know she is in the Resistance.

“What’s wrong?”

“I—”

Ash is interrupted by the sound of cannons and marching mencoming up in the edge of the thick.

It’s her platoon. She hears the chatter. They think she’staking too long.

Adrenaline rushes in as the situation and its gravity comesfull force. Tyra stands up, picks up her rifle, Straightens her hair. Shewordlessly gets up on her steed.

But she looks down at Ash, and her war face softens to asmile.

Ash stands up herself, and she finally gets out her concern.“I don’t know if I’ll see you again.”

“I’ll find a way.” A cannon shot nearby. They’ve seen Tyrafrom the distance, but they haven’t seen Ash yet from the thick of the shrubbery.“It would take a while, but I promise—”

The battle cries disturbed her, and before Ash knew it, sheis gone, the past moments nothing but a memory.  

--

Ash had lied so many times in the weeks that came – on thesafehouse and why it is suddenly rubble with its hostages disappeared into thenight, and what has happened to Tyra after she attempted to stop her.

“She got away,” she said. “She’s now a very formidablethreat, but we don’t know where she is right now.” She made sure they wouldbelieve her. The self-inflicted injuries were easy to make but will heal in awhile. And she made sure they will believe there is no way they are stillfriends. She took on the small penalty. But it is fine. She will bear it. Apart of her is giddy with somewhat childish excitement. The risk is exciting,however it also brings her shivers up her spine at the mere thought of somehowmissing a detail. She could not risk making mistakes. Not for her. She chose tolive through the lie to catch up on the five years they could have been happy.

However, it has been a while, and she has not heard fromTyra ever since the attack, except from scattered news and rumors from her platoon.As the days and weeks pass, she fears it may be too good to be true, that shemay have just dreamed the kiss, that Tyra wasn’t real and she just imagined theencounter to make herself feel better about her own feelings.

However, while she writes her report, she received ananonymous letter. All it had on was a date and time set by the fortnight, andthe name of an inn way outside Magistrate territory with a designated roomnumber. “Just one night,” it adds.

She has not packed her essentials faster before. Filing forvacation is easy. She says she is visiting distant family she has not seen fora while, which has a vein of truth to it. Tyra is family. Tyra is a lot ofthings. She’s not someone she’s happy to only be seeing occasionally, but it isa better option than most. She was out of the capital before she knew it, and inthe designated date, was in front of the designated inn number.

The chance is still one she was happy to take, and if it isany consolation to the risk, this reunion maybe a little easier and more fun toremember.

She knocks by the door, and she is guiltily excited as shehears familiar footsteps come to answer.

[letsgetfuckingsuperwholocked]

Found

Steve Rogers X Reader Soulmate AU

A/N: I know I said I was going to bed, but ERMERGERD!! I finally hit 200 followers!! I have been obsessing over Soulmate AUs, lately, so I figured what a great time to try and bang one out! A special occasion fluff piece! Thank you so much for those who have followed me! 200 may not be a lot to some of you, but it is a huge milestone for me!

Summary: Soulmates are born with their partner’s name tattooed over their heart. What happens when the reader is born with a famous missing Captain America’s name?

Warnings: A poor deer gets hit by a car, minor accident, very little injury and blood.

Word Count: About 1700 words (more or less)

Masterlist

Steven Grant Rogers.

When I was born, my parents and doctors were astonished. Captain America had been presumed dead since the forties, making it an impossible scenario at the time. History books never mentioned that he had a name tattooed over his heart. He hadn’t made that information public. I guess soulmates were considered controversial at that period of time, since there was not a lot of information about it.

“You mustn’t let anybody know who your soulmate is, Y/N.” My father always warned, failing to hide the fear laced in his voice. “You don’t want the wrong people to know this piece of information. It could do a lot of damage and get you hurt.”

So, I covered up the delicate writing. Foundation and high-cut shirts became my life-line. I never told anybody that I had a soulmate, and people didn’t question me. Not everybody’s born with a soulmate, anyways.

The world is cruel. I would rather have had no soulmate, instead of a dead one.

I had gotten pretty good at hiding my tattoo, and refused to let the sting of knowing I would never meet my other half get me down. I had graduated high school with honors, graduated from a great college, and got a job as a nurse in a local hospital in New York. I loved my job. I worked really hard to have a good life, and enjoyed the satisfaction of knowing that I was helping people.

Then he was found. He was alive.

I was sitting in the break room, talking to one of my colleagues about an upcoming vacation I’d planned, when someone had shouted to turn on the TV.

Captain America Alive – Frozen in time!

The headlines all said it.

My heart almost stopped beating. He was alive. After all this time. He was alive.

I ran to the restroom to call my mother. “Did you see the television?” I all but shouted, hands shaking.

“I did.” She responded, a smile in her voice. “He’s alive, after all this time.”

“What do I do? I don’t want to freak him out! I’m sure waking up in a different era after being frozen is hard enough, without adding me into the mix.” I sat down on the counter, next to the sink. I needed to think this through, before making any rash decisions. I was overjoyed. I was nervous. I was hurt. I had spent my whole life believing that I was never going to meet my other half. Thinking that the universe was playing a cruel joke on me by giving me the name of a dead man.

I had been wrong after all this time.

“It’s up to you, sweetheart. You need to be the one to make the decision.” I could faintly hear the television in the background of the phone. “If you really want to meet him, you don’t need to do it today. Do it in your own time.”

So that’s what I did. I waited. Three years.

I had followed what he was doing through the news and social media, over time. He had joined a group that called themselves The Avengers, and was trying to do some good in the world.

I was trying to get my life in order, before I met him. I was paying off my student loans, I was working a lot, and I had moved closer to Stark Tower – now called The Avengers Tower – to be close when I was ready to talk to him.

After a particularly grueling day at the hospital – a twelve hour shift – I was supposed to be making my way to see my parents for an upcoming birthday. I was tired. It was really late at night, and I was skipping the set-up with my mother, since the party was the next day. It was a gross night, the rain was coming down in sheets, and it was way too cold. I had been wearing my scrubs, but the shirt was too dirty, so I was driving with my scrub pants and a tank top, making sure the heat in my car cranked up.

Luckily, traffic was pretty light, but the rain was not letting up.

“What the hell! Pass me, asshole.” I muttered, looking in my rearview mirror at a giant SUV behind me. “What, are you trying to pick your goddamn teeth in my mirror?”

My eyes had only flicked to the SUV for a second, but when I looked forward all I saw were a pair of shining eyes.

DEER! SHIT!

I gasped, slamming the brakes as the deer was tumbling onto my hood and smashing into my windshield. My body was forced forward, and my face made contact with the steering wheel. My foot felt like it was forcing my body weight onto the brake, and I threw my car in park, praying I was on the side of the road. “God dammit.” I yelled, bringing my hand up to my throbbing nose, and it came away sticky with blood. I felt it, and – luckily – it hadn’t been broken.

Shit. My windshield was fucked.

The deer!

I clicked off my seatbelt, throwing open my door. Before I climbed out, I grabbed my dirty scrub shirt, pressing it against my face to soak up the bleeding.

“Woah, are you sure you want to be getting out of the car, right now?” A woman’s voice said from a few feet behind my car. “Are you okay?”

My windshield was splattered with blood and hair, and the car was totaled. “Fuck! So much for paying off my car!” This fucking sucks.

I turned to the woman, and froze in my tracks. I would recognize that red hair anywhere. Natasha Romanoff? The Black fucking Widow? “Uhh, I’m fine. I just hit my nose. It’s bleeding, but it isn’t-”

HOLY SHIT.

The passenger door to the SUV opened, revealing none other than him. Captain America.

He was a lot bigger in person. He was tall, broad, and handsome. His hair was so golden blonde, but dirty at the same time. And his blue eyes stood out from his clear, attractive face. They were the most beautiful shade of blue I had ever seen.

Oh, God, I’m freaking out…

Oh, shit. You were talking, Y/N.

“-It isn’t broken. I’m more pissed about my car.” I shivered, rain making the cold seep into my exposed flesh, and shock of the accident waring off. “I just need to call a tow.”

“I already called one, Ma’am.” His perfect voice flooded my ears, and I had to stop myself from embarrassing myself by swooning. “Are you sure you’re okay? That’s a lot of blood.”

I nodded, using the soiled scrub shirt to wipe the blood from my face and chest. I tossed it into the car and grabbed my umbrella to block off the rain, “D-did they say how long they would be?”

“Twenty Minutes.” He responded, unzipping his hoodie and tossing it to me, “Take this. You don’t want to catch a cold.” Such a gentleman.

I was so focused on not embarrassing myself in front of Steve, that I didn’t notice Natasha eyeing up my badge and my half-wiped makeup over my tattoo. “Hey, Steve.” She looked over, beckoning him closer. “Check out the name on her badge.”

My heart stopped beating. Oh, shit. My eyes were almost bugging out of my head, and I could tell that she knew exactly whose name was tattooed over my heart.

“Y/N Y/L/N?” He read aloud, voice questioning. His head sprung up, looking serious and taken aback, “Your middle name wouldn’t be Y/M/N, would it?”

I smiled sheepishly, taking my sleeve and wiping the rest of the dripping foundation off my chest, “Hi.”

“Hi.” He smiled, a look of relief on his face. “You’re my soulmate.”

I felt my face blush, and I bit my lip – heat radiating off my cheeks as he walked up to me, “And you’re mine.”

“Why didn’t you say anything, before?” He questioned as Natasha walked back over to the SUV.

I wrung my hands together, nervousness taking over my body, “Well, uh, I don’t know. I mean, it’s pretty surreal seeing you in person and not on the news.” I wrapped his hoodie tighter around my body, “Plus, I mean, I thought you were dead my whole life, so I never exactly planned out what I would say the first time I ever met you.”

His face fell, “I’m sorry. I had my whole life before the ice thinking about meeting you, and you spent yours thinking that I was never going to be with you.” He gently grabbed my hand, leaving my other one free so I could hold the umbrella. “I’ve had a whole speech planned since I knew what this tattoo meant, and I’ve forgotten every line.” He chuckled, rubbing his thumb over my knuckles. “I’m happy to finally meet you, Doll. You’re beautiful.”

I cleared my throat, “You’re not so bad yourself, Captain.” Oh my god, he isn’t disappointed. Thank god.

“You can call me by my name, you know.” He winked, leaning against my dripping car. “So, do you want to go get some coffee, or something?”

“Oh, shoot!” I pulled my hand out of his, and leaned back into my car to grab my phone, “I was on my way to my parents’ house for a birthday that’s supposed to be tomorrow.” I quick texted my mother, letting her know that I was going to be late without going into details. “I would love, some coffee, though.”

He chuckled, running his hand through his wet hair, “Why don’t we leave Natasha with your car, and I’ll take you to your parents’ house? We can stop for coffee on the way?”

“Sure, that sounds lovely.” I was so relieved that he wasn’t disappointed. I had always dreamed of meeting my other half. This was not a dream, this was reality – and I was so ecstatic, I could cry.

Natasha came over, tossing Steve the keys to the SUV and my suitcase from the back seat. “You kids have fun, I’ll have this towed back to the tower. Make Stark pay for it.”

Steve ushered me over to the vehicle, opening my door and taking my umbrella from me. He jogged over to the driver’s side door and closed my umbrella, hopping in and starting up the SUV.

As he pulled back onto the highway, his right hand took hold of my left, “I am really glad I found you, Doll.”

Another blush crept its way over my skin, and I gave his hand a little squeeze, “I’m really glad I found, you, too.”

As we rode, I felt a sense of happiness spread through me. My soulmate had finally found me, and I’d finally found him.

My heart felt complete.

I could finally show my tattoo to the world.

Steven Grant Rogers.

My soulmate.

TAGS: (I do forever tags, whoever wants to join the party!)

@luckynumber1213 @mrsnegan25

[kaikamahine]

hiii, oh gosh, for once online when you reblog one of these

SALV MY DARLING THE LIGHT OF MY LIFE. You are always welcome to leave me prompts even if we’re not online simultaneously!!

Also, did anyone ask for a witch!AU? Because here u go.

*

5: Nail polish, silver rings, boots made for jumping in puddles

When Peridot was younger, and hadn’t yet learned that her perfect, reasonable, logical, brilliant mother could be wrong, they had a square patch of dirt between their front porch and the fence where their neighbors – with their identical patches – all grew scrappy blue fescue and tried to squeeze in Fisher Price playsets.

“What are we going to do with it?” she asks, clinging to the arm of her mother’s chair and holding very still, both wanting attention and terrified of it, too.

Slowly, her mother pulls her head up. Everything she does is deliberate, precise, no movement wasted. “We’ll make it a weapon,” she decides.

And that’s how Peridot grows up with a garden.

(”Dude, how is a garden a weapon?” Amethyst goes.

“Ugh! Against the bourgeoise, Ames, don’t you know anything? Refusing to have a lawn and commit to the expense of its noisy, unproductive upkeep fights the capitalist agenda!”

“Wow, I didn’t know tomatoes were that powerful,” Steven says. “That adds a whole new meaning to the word ‘superfood’!”)

*

Monitoring the garden’s growth became Peridot’s job, year after year. She snipped buds, staked tomatoes when they got leggy, collected seeds into folding sachets to restart next spring, canvassed the neighborhood after heavy rain to collect earthworms to smash up in the compost, smeared the fence with rancid garlic and chilies to keep the rabbits and raccoons and opportunistic teenagers out.

“Are you a greenwitch?” the neighbor’s girl asks her, peering through the chainlink gate. She’s got a bicycle helmet with flames painted on the sides and two Power Rangers band-aids protecting a scrape on her elbow, and Peridot is painfully jealous of how cool both those things are.

She sits back on her heels. “No, I just work hard,” she says, and then, because it’s that time of year when everything happens at once, “Hey, does your mom want any zucchini?”

*

Her mother gets news from Blue’s coven the week of Peridot’s fourteenth birthday, two months into the new school year. She uproots them and moves them north that same week, a heaving disruption in Peridot’s life like it’s rolling over and sloughing its skin.

“But - “ she tries, and her mother’s knuckles whiten over a rune, eyes coming up to cut at Peridot in that familiar way; why can’t I whittle you to a convenient size.

She says, “Do you have something to say?”

“No, ma’am,” Peridot ducks.

She doesn’t know anything about the north. She doesn’t even own winter gear - just her worm-hunting galoshes, with the ladybugs on them. And her mother won’t let her take those.

There’s no room in the car for sentimentality, so don’t waste our time. Only take what can’t be repurchased.

The spellbooks go into boxes, the rowan rings into bins with the maps the other covens lent them, and the warded topaz bottles get wrapped in cheesecloth to keep their contents calm during the car ride. Her mother hires Jasper to pack the car; she’s the starting quarterback whose trophies are behind glass in the hall where Peridot has - had - her locker. She’s more Arizona-colored than Peridot imagines the entire state of Arizona to be, and whenever her mother has to touch her, she immediately wipes her fingers on the pleats of her pants after.

“I hate it when witches bury themselves in someone else’s grave,” is all she says, inspecting her fingertips like she expects them to still be slimy, like Jasper’s gone-off, rotten all the way through. “Such a waste.”

The night before they leave, Peridot sneaks out the front door.

She starts with a pair of pruners, but those aren’t fast enough, so she resorts to her bare hands; the beans come up first, then the peppers, and the tomatoes as tall as their house, the sunflowers as big as satellite dishes shedding seeds for the birds. It’s the end of September, and Peridot had been looking forward to the weeks of canning ahead of her, pickling everything that could conceivably be pickled and adding them to the neat rows of salsa she made the month before.

When she’s done, the cement is littered with clumps of soil, naked roots, stems jackknifed out of their plots, and she breathes hard, looks at her hands, thinks: gravedirt, and, more accurately: grief.

In the morning, her mother walks over the carnage and doesn’t once look up from her phone.

*

(“LEAVE ME ALONE,” she shouts through the door, then scrabbles across the tile and pulls the shower curtain closed. “GO. AWAY.”

A hasty discussion happens in the hallway.

“- and that makes her just like us,” Steven’s voice comes out the loudest. “Come on!”

More muttering, and then Steven’s back, politely rapping his knuckles on the bathroom door.

“Okay, Peridot, you can stay there,” he calls. “There’s towels in the cabinet over the toilet. They’re pretty fluffy to sleep on, it’ll be fun! Oh! And can you water the plant, maybe?”

“The plant?” Peridot blinks, and looks around, and blinks again.

A pot sits on a ledge over the sink, sprouting tendrils in every direction that trail green, arrowhead leaves half-way to the floor. Curious, Peridot crawls over to inspect it, keeping her one remaining boot tucked possessively under her arm.

“What’s its function?” she asks, caught despite her best efforts.

“Uhh, I don’t … know?” Steven tries. “We don’t use it for spells, if that’s what you’re asking.”

Peridot’s brows come down. “Then what’s the point?”

A pause.

“There doesn’t have to be a point, Peridot,” Steven tells her, treading very carefully. “It just likes it in there. The low light and the humidity from the shower are good for it, and in return, it recycles our air. That’s a function, I guess.”

“You need to be more productive than just recycling air.”

“I don’t know, I’m pretty good at it,” and then Steven laughs, and Peridot touches a fingertip to one soft, green leaf. Her stomach knots itself up so complicated it probably deserves a boy scout badge: homesickness, earned.)

*

(”You know what this means, right!” Steven flings himself bodily down on top of her, somehow managing to squeeze her in a hug despite her greatest attempts to dead weight him into letting her go. “You’re one of us! You’re a Crystal Gem now!”

“Whether you like it or not,” Garnet adds, and her smile somehow even manages to reach her third eye, faintly illuminated over the skin between her eyebrows.)

*

(Amethyst props her hands on her hips. Hanging from her neck, the deep-cut pendant from which she got her name still glows from use, nestled against her breastbone.

”Okay, what’s really wrong with it?” she demands.

“I can’t do it,” Peridot says flatly.

Steven and Amethyst exchange a look. Peridot can feel it, the nonverbal discussion happening. She hunches her shoulders.

Her feet are sandy from the boardwalk, the toes bright green. Amethyst and Pearl had been painting their nails while waiting for the witch hazel to steep, and Peridot wanted in - she’d never done it before, since the fumes always gave her mother a headache. Stupid. Stupid, stupid, stupid. With runny eyes, she scrunches up her toes and starts dragging them on the cement, trying to get the paint to chip.

“You can’t - “

“Do magic,” Peridot snaps. “I can’t. I’m not a witch at all. Not in any way that matters.”)

*

She can’t do charms and wards like Steven, or transfiguration like Amethyst, and she definitely can’t do that elite-class elemental spellwork Lapis fires off without giving a shit. She’s not a (renegade) white-witch like Pearl, or a battle-witch like Garnet. She can’t even do necromancy like Jasper, and any idiot with half a brain can do necromancy - Jasper went and swore an oath to some coven leader Peridot never met, then never bothered to sever that bond when she went and got her throat cut. Honestly, and you wonder why the Diamond covens want to control all magic.

*

She’s seventeen, living in the north. She sleeps under the window in the barn, and it’s the best place she has ever lived. 

There aren’t any herbs drying from racks suspended from the ceiling (honestly, she’d like to see you try to avoid banging your head into those when you’re returning several day’s worth of dishes to the kitchen at three in the morning) and no jars of fermenting spells on the shelves, no crystals recharging and no chalk lines to worry about accidentally scuffing and ruining when making that aforementioned shame-trip to the kitchen. The plastic bins aren’t full of rotten ingredients or misbehaving charms winding down their half-life, but perfectly reasonable things, like wrenches, toilet bowl cleaner, and Lapis’s twelve different pairs of the same black jeans. (Although not in the same bin.)

It’s not like anywhere Peridot’s ever been before.

It’s wonderful.

“You’re not a very witchy witch,” she says to Lapis.

Lapis lifts one cobalt-blue headphone off her ear, and from where she’s standing Peridot can hear the tinny feedback. She can’t make out the melody, but she’ll bet three dollars and half a donut that it’s Hybrid Theory. Theoretically, there’s a limit on how many times a person can listen to “Crawling,” but Peridot feels that if she pointed that out, Lapis would just take it as a challenge. She’s twice Peridot’s age and walks around with a near-permanent expression that says I have seen some shit, just try me.

“If I got a familiar,” Lapis says dryly. “Would that make you feel better?”

Peridot perks up.

*

She teaches herself how to play the recorder by watching YouTube, and the look on Amethyst’s face the first time she demonstrates convinces her she probably should have tried the harmonica instead. The look on Steven’s face tells her she probably shouldn’t have used his roaming data to do it.

“Here,” he says sympathetically, and plants his ukelele in her lap. “Do you think you can name the notes if we play a scale?”

“Of course I can,” Peridot responds haughtily, and touches her fingertips to the spellwork etched into the wood.

(Everything Steven owns comes steeped in generations’ worth of magic and love, all patiently waiting for Steven to grow into them.)

(She wonders if this is what having a family is like: a place you go where the love is already in your size, just waiting for you to pick it up and put it on: I am a person Steven loves. She wonders if they know she has it waiting for them, too, whenever they want to wear it: I am a person Peridot loves.)

She keeps herself busy - with music, with the barn, with the unusual breathless hitch in her chest at the way the heavy silver of Lapis’s thumb ring looks against her dark skin, with coming up with solutions to things that aren’t really problems. Steven and his dad take her to the mall to get her a phone, which turns out to be like her mother’s scry stone but with faster Internet connection. The common misconception about magic is that it’s somehow cheating, the lazy way out, but Peridot grew up in a witch’s house and knows exactly how much hard work it takes.

Furtively, she takes cuttings from Steven’s bathroom plant, and then from a monstrous leathery green thing in the laundromat, and an aloe plant sitting in a grocery store display with sunscreen and Solarcaine, and before long has several small pots lining the windowsill as the cuttings take root. The sight of them makes her feel better instantly.

“I still don’t feel like I’m doing anything productive,” she tells Amethyst, who’s got her tongue stuck between her teeth in concentration, picking at the stenciling of the tiny spaceships she’s painting on Peridot’s nails.

Amethyst snorts derisively. “You’re living, P-dot. Life is here to be consumed.”

“Easy for you to say,” Peridot fires back. “I saw you put mayo on your cereal the other day!”

“Exactly! And if I wasn’t here to do that, who would have done it? If you weren’t here, who would tell me everything there is to know about Camp Pining Hearts?”

Peridot swells up. “OKAY BUT - “

*

Here’s the thing about magic.

No wait.

*

Here’s the thing about love:

It comes up like a garden grown out of heartstrings and ribs, and you can spend so much time cultivating it, caring for it, but you’ll never really know if you’ll suddenly have to uproot it, or if you can trust its care to anyone else because so many people come in with good intentions but black thumbs.

But to try -

It’s so brave, just trying; the hope that you’ll get sunflowers as big as satellites turning their faces to the sun, and you’ll have enough love left over that you’ll have to go door to door just to share it all. Peridot grew up in a house with no room for waste. She never knew she had this capacity.

Her mother was wrong.

The earth was never a weapon.

*

Silence lands on them with deafening force.

Steven’s jaw hangs open, and Lapis’s eyes make shocked smears of blue in her face. Peridot trembles.

Amethyst recovers first, her voice revving up, “Perrrrrrr-i-doooooooooot!”

She whoops and pumps the air with her fist.

“LOOK! Look at what you did!”

Peridot tilts her phone towards her, disbelieving.

Spell charged, the screen reads. Would you like to share on Facebook? A minute vibration travels through the phone case into Peridot’s hand. 

Magic, she thinks. My magic.

“I did it,” she says softly, in wonder. Then, louder, “I did it! Wait, what did I do?”

“I think,” and that’s Garnet, materializing behind them in that premonitory way she has. She’s smiling. “You made something entirely new.”

*