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stalkerofthegods · 1 year ago

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Lady Hestia Deep Dive

Lady Hestia is a wonderful goddess, she is always there for everyone, I adore Lady Hestia, I do not worship her personally but I know well that she is Amazing.

Herbs • Chaste trees, Rosemary, Parsley, Basil, Sorrel, vanilla, Cinnamon, coriander, Marjoram, Mint, Lemon balm, cloves, clary sage, Allspice, Angelica, Coriander, poppy seed, chamomile, Angelica, Bay, garlic, mint, peppermint, pepper, marjoram, The lavender, the chaste tree, the datura, the California poppy, the goldenrod, the hollyhock, the yarrow, the purple coneflower, all white flowers, Lavender, White roses, angel’s trumpet, goldenrod, hollyhock, and yarrow, pine, Wildflowers & sunflowers, raspberry leaves, sage, pearly everlasting, yellow rose

Animals• pigs, donkeys, one-year-old cows, a Crane.

Zodiac & scared number • unknown, I cannot find out what month she was born on, or the day. But I would associate numbers 1, and 6 because she is the oldest and the youngest (and etc, but who even likes my rambles?)

Colors •Gold, yellow, orange, red, White, Gold, Lavender, light purple, black, silver, and dark red

Crystal•Carnelian, Garnet, Goldstone, Calcite, Topaz, garnet, amethyst, lapis lazuli, green tourmaline, Vanadinite, Quartz, gold, silver, and brass, Amber colored crystals, citrine, clear quartz, sunstone.

Symbols• a kettle, the hearth (fireplace), torch, candle

Jewelry you can wear in their honor• friendship bracelets

Diety of• the virgin goddess of the home and hearth fire, cooking of meals, and sacrificial food for feasts, architecture, domesticity, family, and the state, and sacrificial flame

Patron of where the families ate and congregated, hospitality, family.

Offerings• give her prayer beads that remind you of her that are not Christian (or make one, which is better), wooden beads, Oil Lamps, Seven Day Candles (because they burn for 7 days), LED Candles, A Candle that reminds you of home, White or red candles, Apple juice, cider, Wine, Baked goods, keys to the home (preferably not stolen(looking at Hermes devotees))), Small kitchen antiques/objects, pottery/cups/bowls, artwork of homey things, a meal, your favorite things, poetry, books, items you made, fall-themed stuff, spring-themed stuff, First/last foods & libations from a meal, Candles/flame, Honey, Pork, Cakes or Cookies made to look like one of Her symbols,), Keeping a candle/hearth fire or lamp constantly burning, Pictures of homes you want to live in one day, pictures of homes you have lived in, Pictures of architecture that you like, Teacups, teaspoons, tea towels, Childhood memories (ex- stuffed toys, baby clothes, old photos), Homegrown herbs, Toys or art of donkeys and pigs, Leaves or blooms from a chaste tree, Tea light candles (real or fake), Your favorite poetry or poetry you have written for Her, Your favorite books, Stories you have written, Art of flames, fire, candles, Garmets that you have made such as clothing, blankets, beanies, Homemade lotions, bath bombs, shower gel, bubble bath (You can ask Her to bless them then use them she probably won't say no), Beeswax products, honey, olive oil, pumpkin pie

Devotional• Pick up rubbish in communal areas, Offer the first or last bites/portions of food your to her, Cooking/baking for yourself or others, Having a candle lit whenever possible (electric or real), playing a video of a fire place, Volunteerring at homeless or DV shelters, donating to homeless or DV shelters, Setting healthy boundaries with friends and family, reading about Tea/Coffee magick, Getting involved with your local community, Advocating for policies you believe will better the community Allowing yourself to rest, Do a chore you've been putting off for a long time, organize to hang out with some loved ones, Veil or bind your hair, Wear something red or orange, Make a devotional playlist for her, make a Pinterest board or a mood board for her, Learn about kitchen witchery, Cook a meal in her name, Clean the House, Put together a puzzle, Eat popcorn and watch a movie, do Knitting, read about knitting, donate yarn and

knitting supply’s, prepare food for family, make the table before eating, garden, Harvest berries, pick flowers, Donate to food charity/drives, Support people who lost their homes to natural disasters, Welcoming others into your home, Keeping the peace (especially in the home), Donations of time & money to Habitat for Humanity, Do little (or big) acts of kindness, If you have a fireplace light it for Her or build Her altar around it, Meditate next to a fire, Read poetry or a book, play a playlist for Her and play it while you clean or cooks, Clean your house/room and keep it nice and tidy, Take a cooking or baking class, Collect recipes and keep a recipe book, Host celebrations at your home, Remember your ancestors and learn more about them, Spend time with your pets, Take care of yourself and your mental and physical health (Your body is a home for you), Take a hot bath, eat some ice cream, chill at home for a day, Pray to Her( ex- for protection, inspiration, happiness, guidance, and help getting rid of negative entities in the home, peace in the home, good food, an abundance of food, independence), help to start/tending to the hearth, work on having strong family bonds, Open your curtains and let the sunlight warm the room, Make a potful of tea and keep it in a large thermos, Watch movies that make you feel nostalgic and cozy, Say goodnight and good morning to her, Get an electric blanket and feel the warmth connect you to her, Cuddle a stuffed animal, Make a blog/journal filled with cozy homely things, Keep a few locally baked goodies nearby for when you need them, String up fairy lights and use them as your only light source, Whisper prayers and devotional pieces before you go to sleep, Use a Himalayan salt lamp to connect to feeling of a fire, Invest in little things (ex- pillowcases, photos, curtains) that make your room feel welcoming and peaceful, Make a little bottle filled with herbs and crystals and other things that remind you of her, Listen to music that makes your soul happy and your heart content, Take care of yourself (ex- Brush your hair, use a wet cloth on your face), Keep a tealight on you, Clean one small area of your house, Savor a hot drink, Do small, unnoticed acts of kindness, Always greet animals (both big and small), Do anything by candlelight, Wear colors you associate with her, Practice your patience (both external and internal), Be a listening ear or shoulder to cry on for those who need it, Make compromises when it is healthiest for both parties, always have a lighter or matches, Listen to music that reminds you of her, Spend time tending to your body, Leave a big tip the next time you have a chance, Practice kindness in all areas of your life (including driving), Take a hot bath or shower with no time limit, Decorate a space, Build a fire, Compliment people (both strangers and loloved ones), Donate something (ex-clothes, money, or your time), Look at photos and embrace the happy nostalgia, Wear makeup or jewelry that reminds you of her, Wake up early to see the sunrise - or watch the sunset, Watch/read about acts of kindness to be inspired, wear prayer beads that are for her, go to a high school reunion, do a family reunion, do budgeting in her honor, do meal planning, set healthy boundaries, have a household notebook, do seasonal cleaning, try home remedies,As you light your gas stove, say a prayer to Hestia, Spend quiet quality time at home, Gather your family (including your chosen family) for a festive candlelit meal, Commit to spending more time with children and old people.

Ephithets•Äídios - eternal, Aïdius – See Äídios., Basileia - See Vasíleia, Bulaea - See Voulaia., Chloömorphus – See Khlöómorphos, Daughter of lovely-haired Rǽa, Khlöómorphos - verdan, Polýmorphos - multi-formed, Polyolbus – See Polýolvos, Polýolvos - rich in blessings, Potheinotáti - beloved, Prutaneia – See Prytaneia, Prytanei, Vasíleia - queen, Voulaia - of the council, Prytaneia -”of the Prytanis.”

Equivalents• Vesta (Roman), loki (Norse), Brigid (Celtic), Hathor (Egyptian)

Signs they are reaching out• having a strong urge to Vail in her honor, seeing her animals and symbols in your dreams, and seeing her imagery a lot, everything at home suddenly going well.

Vows/omans• that she “would be a maiden all her days”

Morals• morally light/pure

Courting• None

Past lovers/crushes• None

Personality• She avoids drama, and is generous, but her temper is volcanic in nature, she is slow to anger, but when she gets angry her rage is a force of nature. She is modest, tranquil, and industrious

Home• Mount Olympus

Mortal or immortal • immortal

Fact• Historically she is supposed to be the first deity offered to in a ritual due to being the goddess of fire, she's the oldest Olympian, She is spat out last by Kronos so she is also the youngest, she shares her seat with Diyonisus, she did not give it up, she receives a share of every sacrifice/prayer to the gods, and she is commonly seen alongside with Hermes, I would recommend putting their alters close together.

Element• fire

Curses• a bad family life, food being burnt, having not enough food, being turned away at restaurants, being homeless, your house catching on fire

Blessings• all domestic happiness and blessings

Roots• Greek mythology….and she was raised in her father's stomach, and at the first years of theogony era.

Friends• all of the gods, but most notably Hermes, but is not friends with Priapus, she dislikes him (he tried to rape her.)

Parentage• Cronus and Rhea

Siblings• Zeus, Poseidon, and Hades, Demeter, Hera

Pet• she has no pets.

Children • she has no children.

Appearance in astral or gen• she was typically represented wearing a veil and robe. In some images, she held a flowering branch or kettle as well.

Festivals • None, at every feast and meal a liberation was made to her name first and last, but I associate Thanksgiving with her, but her Roman counter part Vesta has 1-15 June of each year, an then another festival celebrated on 8-9 July. Hestia is also mentioned on 8 June. But a neo-pagan sets aside 26 December – 22 January as a month devoted to Hestia.

Status• Virgin theoi goddess.

What disrespects her turning away people at your home (she is a goddess of hospitality and it was seen as disrespectful to her to do so.)

Planet• unknown

Her Tarot cards• the Temperance, the fourteenth Major Arcana card.

Remind me of• Hot cocoa, and Thanksgiving.

Scents/Inscene • Lavender, Rose, spring water, rain, Pumpkin, Apple pie, cinnamon, fall leaves, Chamomile, Myrrh, Frankincense, Iris, Angelica, Peony, Angelica, iris, Sandalwood

My opinion • I like her, but I'm scared of her too. (what a shocker!)

Prayers•

Historical-

Holy Queen of Sanctity, we hymn you, Hestia, whose abiding realm is Olympus and the middle point of earth and the Delphic laurel tree! You dance around Apollo’s towering temple rejoicing both in the tripod’s mantic voices and when Apollo sounds the seven strings of his golden phorminx and, with you, sings the praises of the feasting gods. We salute you, daughter of Kronos and Rhea, who alone brings firelight to the sacred altars of the gods; Hestia, reward our prayer, grant wealth obtained in honesty; then we shall always, dance around your glistening throne.

For the lost -

Blessed Hestia, the first and the last, and the always flame. May your light burn bright and strong, May your prayers be those of respect and love, May you guide the lost, And give to those who have nothing. I give thanks to you, Hestia, for all that you have done And continue to do.

For people with intrusive thoughts -

I ask Hestia, the kind goddess, to help those who feel down. May they find comfort and peace inside of their homes and inside their own minds. Protect them for their destructive thoughts, and be the safe place they need so much

A prayer for homeles—

In Hestia’s name, may you always have a home and a roof over your head. May you always be comfortable and warm with a full belly. May you always be in good spirits and good company, never knowing the pervading loneliness that envelopes the soul.

Morning

Blessed Hestia, Fill this home with your light and bounty, As the day fills it with golden sunshine.

Evening

Glorious Hestia, Let your hearth fire warm this house, As night draws her shadowed cloak over it now.

Blessings of the kitchen-

Hestia bless my little kitchen, I love it’s every nook And bless me as I do my work, Wash pots and pans and cook. May the meals that I prepare, Be seasoned from above, With thy blessings and thy grace, But most of all thy love

Links/websites/sources •

ts-witchy-archive, constantly-disheveled, saryoak, eldritchhorror06, https://twelfthremedy.tumblr.com/post/625205765818515456/hestia-offerings/amp, https://www.tumblr.com/honeyandhestia/179727039352/offerings-to-hestiahttps://twelfthremedy.tumblr.com/post/625205765818515456/hestia-offerings/amphttps://www.tumblr.com/honeyandhestia/179727039352/offerings-to-hestiahttps://www.learnreligions.com/hestia-greek-goddess-of-the-hearth-2561993#:~:text=Keep%20a%20candle%20dedicated%20to,prayers%2C%20songs%2C%20or%20hymns.https://www.theoi.com/Ouranios/Hestia.html#:~:text=In%20myth%20Hestia%20was%20the,youngest%20of%20the%20six%20Kronides.https://www.theoi.com/Ouranios/Hestia.htmlhttps://greekmythology.fandom.com/wiki/Hestia#google_vignettehttps://greekmythology.fandom.com/wiki/Hestiahttps://greekgodsandgoddesses.net/goddesses/hestia/https://www.hellenicgods.org/festivals-of-hellenismos---eortai https://hestiasservant.wordpress.com/2018/05/27/honoring-hestia-a-festival-every-day/https://www.elissos.com/the-family-goddess-hestia-mother-of-all-gods/#:~:text=The%20birth%20of%20Hestia%20dates,to%20his%20throne%2C%20his%20children.https://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/Rhea_(mythology)#:~:text=According%20to%20Hesiod%2C%20Rhea%20had,and%20Zeus%20in%20that%20order.https://www.reddit.com/r/pagan/comments/14sy8cj/is_hestia_reaching_out_to_me/https://mythopedia.com/topics/hestia

http://persephoneandhecate.blogspot.com/2011/06/exploring-archetypes-hestia.html?m=1https://www.tumblr.com/honeyandhestia/170063420188/bedridden-devotion-to-hestiahttps://honeyandhestia.tumblr.com/post/170063420188/bedridden-devotion-to-hestiahttps://www.tumblr.com/heatherwitch/160613514230/hestiavesta https://constantly-disheveled.tumblr.com/post/156636591525/can-a-hearth-fire-just-be-a-candle-that-you-lighthttps://www.tumblr.com/honeyandhestia/169551188078/devotional-activities-for-hestiahttps://www.tumblr.com/honeyandhestia/167758105763/jar-to-help-me-connect-to-hestia-chamomilehttps://www.tumblr.com/honeyandhestia/171225676313/burn-herbs-and-spices-as-an-offering-to-hestia-i https://www.tumblr.com/honeyandhestia/183383795283/what-kind-of-crystals-would-yall-associate-with https://www.tumblr.com/honeyandhestia/171208375440/a-historical-prayer-to-hestiahttps://www.tumblr.com/honeyandhestia/169394109439/i-ask-hestia-the-kind-goddess-to-help-those-who https://www.tumblr.com/honeyandhestia/166938581678/if-youre-still-doing-prayer-requests-may-you-be https://www.tumblr.com/honeyandhestia/178225408393/lady-hestia-goddess-of-comfort-and-warmth-to https://www.tumblr.com/honeyandhestia/183772520921/a-little-kitchen-prayer-for-hestia https://www.hellenicgods.org/festivals-of-hellenismos---eortai

I use resources, I do not own the info, and most deep dives have UPG (that I use in my work.) And I only take some information from sources. I am 14, this is my hobby, I am learning but I spent many hours and days on this, and I am always open to criticism. I have been doing worship for 5 years. Please know you can use the info, I do not sue, but I will take action if this work is used without permission and not put as a resource if used in any work. without permisson and not put as a resource if used in any work, for the public.

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aloysiavirgata · 6 months ago

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Fisher King prompt: dark crescendoing to light. Daniel Waterson and his baggage come back into her now-married life; maybe by way of the autopsy table. A dark case comes across Mulder’s desk. You pick. A happy surprise at the end to bring them both out of it?

Thanks, lady.

It is the dead nurse that catches his attention. Two days back from his honeymoon, attaboys and filthy jokes and cigars and a stack of manila folders on his dust-rimed desk.

Pendrell whistles when he sees Mulder, makes a predictable playing-doctor joke. He leers as though it obscures the soulful puppy wetness of his face. As though he hasn’t noticed Dana at crime scenes before, the autumn bonfire of her hair. Her tourmaline eyes.

Mulder thumbs the band on his left ring finger, spins it a little in the cool morning light. Flips them all off with good-natured grouchiness as he makes his way to the elevator. He thinks it might be fun to be an old man, to listen to the slap of his bedroom slippers on the grocery store linoleum.

The air in his office smells like cardboard boxes, like ghosts of lo mein and forgotten pizza. Copier toner. Pencil shavings.

His wife says, “Honestly, Mulder,” and makes chicken sandwiches from dinner leftovers, makes him salads with salmon and almonds and avocados and says he needs to gain eight pounds. He’s taken to her demands like a stray cat adjusting to life indoors. He’s growing glossy and sleek, full of essential amino acids.

Full of life.

***

There is no congestion in any of the organs. No petechiae in her eyes, no blood clots in the fragile slices of brain. Lips, mouth, esophagus free of corrosion, not an aneurysm the size of a poppy seed. The bruises and claw marks on her gray throat are her own doing. There are over a dozen witnesses.

Her nails are clotted with her own crumpled skin.

Dana pokes her finger into the aorta, sniffs the dead, butcher-shop air of Ludovica’s mouth. She prods at the lungs and hunts for lesions and surfactant. The nurse’s stomach contains a half-digested bagel and tuna salad. The muscular walls are in the very pink of health. She has lungs like freshly chewed bubblegum.

Dana huffs a strand of hair off her lip. She does not want to call him.

***

“What killed her?” Mulder asks, around a mouthful leftover quiche. God it’s good. She caramelized the onions, used two semesters of organic chemistry on the pastry and can declaim on the Maillard Reaction in a voice fit for Showtime.

“I’m working on it,” his wife says, brisk. “Thus far it seems to be nothing, which is a bit of a problem, medically speaking.”

“How embarrassing,” Mulder says, hunting around for another chunk of broccoli. “To die of nothing. You talk to this Waterston chappie yet?

Silence.

“Dr. Scully?”

A sigh.

Mulder’s brow furrows. “Dana Katherine, what gives?”

She sighs again. “You remember that med school professor I told you about? Funny story…”

***

He gazes at her the way tourists gawp at the Mona Lisa; not with a particular appreciation, just a bit awed that they can check it off their bucket lists.

Twice, for Daniel. A certain chumminess. A hint of inside jokes and favorite restaurants and that-lovely-inn-we-stayed-at. Of possessiveness. Territoriality.

Mulder shakes his head, just a twitch. Just enough to clear Daniel’s smug carnal knowledge of his wife away. Mulder’s fucked people’s daughters as well. People’s wives. There was one at Oxford, Honora, her husband a full professor and he -

Mulder doesn’t say this. He doesn’t say anything as Daniel stares at his Rossetti wife, undoubtedly thinks about the determined twitch of her twenty-one year old ponytail and her scuffed Keds and her slipshod Navy brat graces and her body like Artemis bathing by moonlight.

But Daniel’s alone and Mulder isn’t.

Dana isn’t alone either because, against all reason and karma, she’s married him, married Fox Mulder, like it was an absolutely sane thing to do, and her family simply went along with it.

“Tell me what you saw,” says Mulder, with the gentle absolution of a priest. “No judgement here,” he lies. She was hardly more than a girl, she was an innocent, she trusted you, you fucking asshole, you predator, you-

Daniel looks at Dana. Looks down at his surgeon’s hands. No ring on any of his fingers.

Daniel closes his eyes and looks at nothing.

“We began a midline sternotomy, absolutely routine, Suddenly Ludovica - Nurse Giordano - grabbed her throat and said she couldn’t breathe. She…she screamed Diavola! Said there was sulfur, said it was mustard gas, but none of the rest of us smelled a damn thing. But she was thrashing on the floor of the OR and our patient was-“

He looks around then, catches Dana’s eye, shyness in his expression. Shyness in his fatherly face. Dana had looked up at it for approval, no doubt. In what she probably thought was passion. Maybe even love.

Dana nods encouragingly and Mulder feels it then, the weight of years. He understands in that moment that time really is the fourth dimension; that it has a hot, heavy plasticity into which you can sink. He understands the realness of an event horizon, that they are all being pulled towards the unfinished thing between Daniel and his wife, Ludovica Giordano’s corpse included.

His wife was a physics major, his wife rewrote Einstein with the ebullient narcissism of the young.

He understands that his wife and Daniel speak the same primal, arcane language of science. He is a lowly psychologist, the major you pick when you can’t get into dental school but still want to Help Others.

Kepler’s Third Law tells us that intensity equals the inverse of the square of the distance from the source.

And he’s brought Daniel back into her orbit.

***

“I can’t believe you fucked him,” Mulder gasps into her tender seashell ear. An inch from her extraordinary brain.

“I was a child,” she hisses back. “Essentially. Don’t stop, Christ, don’t - I was a child, I-“

She was, she was, she was Eos newly born, she was radiant and young, she was Persephone to Daniel’s Hades, she was fresh milk at Ostara, and a sunrise over the Atlantic.

“Did you love him?”

Her thighs so taut and pale and quivering. Her wedding dress, her misty veil. Her palimpsest skin, on which he can rewrite himself.

“I thought I did but but it wasn’t this, it was never this, it was never you, I-“

Mulder comes in her, groaning, feels the tiniest sting of shame at how good it is to reclaim her from this other man.

***

“Dana,” Daniel says, heavy-tongued for Mulder’s consecrated, Catholic wife. He is hard; he shifts in the uncomfortable chair.

Mulder knows and Dana knows and the air is thick with this knowledge but strangely not unpleasant. The air is July just before a thunderstorm. The air is dense and verging. Primal, fecund, cataclysmic.

Hot.

Green.

Alive.

The air tastes like a 9-volt battery. He wants to put a baby into his wife.

“You were there,” Mulder says, his buckskin hands woven and laced. “What did you see?”

Daniel looks at Dana, Daniel is here for Dana, because he believes she is cold and lonely and alone in the way of the outer planets. He still thinks only he can warm her.

(He doesn’t know, Daniel, not really, that there is a solid core beneath the icy mist.)

She’s too distant and abstruse and Daniel doesn’t know.

***

Daniel smirks at Mulder, this old man who felt briefly alive in the hot juncture of his wife’s thighs; smirks as though he’s done anything real at all. They view the human heart so differently, he and Daniel.

Dana - Dr. Scully - rests her palms against her sharp tweed knee. She only wants to know what stops any human heart from beating. What shuts the brain down, from prefrontal cortex in a cascade to the lowly lizard stem.

“What did you see, Daniel?” She is poised and tensed. She is waiting. She is untouchable.

Mulder - Fox - is disarmed by the chill of her haughty face. Her Plutonian eyes are so very, very cold . So very, very far.

Ice could never be so warm.

***

“‘Maggie,” he breathes, into her amber light. Into her aura, in her husband’s office, after Mulder went out for their lunch order.

“No,” Dana says. “I don’t care. Tell me about the nurse.”

Daniel huffs. “I don’t know, it was nothing, Dana, Maggie said-“

“I don’t care,” Dana says, crisp. “I don’t care about your daughter. You certainly didn’t, when you brought me to your bed.

Daniel is appalled. “Dana, you were-“

“I know what I was,” she replies. “I knew what I was doing and I don’t regret it, not really. But I didn’t understand what you were, not then. And you should regret me, Daniel.”

He looks at her, his brows drawn.

He looks away, back through the years. Dana, all sharpened Ticonderogas and her mouth an unplucked apricot. Skin like fresh-churned butter.

“She was…she was gasping,” he says to the wall of of clippings. To the Flatwoods Monster and wendigos and little lost girls and stills from the Zapruder Footage. “She was clawing at her throat, she…diavola.”

Diavola.

Daniel looks at the ceiling. “She clawed her throat to ribbons,” he says. “She said our patient was full of demons, she said…” He shakes his head and looks at Dana again.

Dana knows. Dana has seen. Has read and wondered and wondered, considered the Gerasene demoniac in the synoptic gospels. Tooms at her belly on the chilly tile of her bathroom…

It will do no good. Whatever her husband says, the truth is not always a panacea. The patient has lived and Ludovica has died and all anyone wants is official paper with Dana’s name at the bottom.

A reckoning, now. A choice.

“Anaphylaxis?” Dana murmurs, in the perfume and cashmere of a different rich man’s wife. She puts a little throatiness in her voice now, like she did after Dr. Waterston spoke to her in private about Starling’s Law. She can give him this. She can give Ludovica’s family this.

Diavola.

Mulder is right, Mulder is almost always right. But Mulder is right in his own time and Ludovica’s family needs her home.

Daniel catches the lifeline she throws, grateful.

Humbled.

Daniel, when his gaze returns, is a bit smaller in her eyes. “Yes,” he says. “It must have been.”

***

They’re eating dinner at the Peruvian chicken place on the corner because Dana is hollow and Mulder has moderately weaponized his own culinary incompetence.

“Ansel died today,” she says, poking at her rice.

Mulder nearly chokes on a mouthful of black beans. “What?!”

“Died. Massive coronary at his desk. Dead within seconds.”

Mulder gapes. Ansel Jordan, Chief Medical Examiner in DC; the alpha and omega of the unexpectedly dead in the District. “He ran marathons.”

Dana nods into the middle distance. “He ran marathons. He had a treadmill in his office. He was 57 and he was my boss and I split his chest apart with a Stryker before his body had even cooled this morning. My god, I forgot what warm tissue feels like.”

She looks up with her wide, delphinium eyes. “They asked me, Mulder.”

They asked? He is appalled. “They asked you to autopsy him? That’s really fu-“

She shakes her head. “No, nobody asked me that. No one would ever. I volunteered, it was the right thing to do, for my colleagues. For Ansel. We were hardly close but I had tremendous respect for the man.”

Ansel was a runner. He ate well and drank in moderation. He cared for his body like a classic car; starting to slow down but with lots of miles left.

The human body is strange and unpredictable.

“Are you okay?” How do you cut open a man you know? He cannot believe she didn’t call this morning but also of course she didn’t call this morning. She is an eternal riddle, a beautiful enigma.

“I’m surprisingly fine,” she says. “I mean, it’s horrible and pointless and tragic. But the process of an autopsy…it soothed me. I knew what to do and there was a…a checklist.”

He smiles, soft. “You’re always a doctor first.”

Dana shrugs, fluid and dismissive. “I guess.”

He realizes then, awed. Adoring. “They want you to… to step in, to be Chief. Dana, that’s incredible, that’s a huge honor. I’m sorry it’s come at the cost of Ansel, but Christ. It’s tremendous.”

He will never achieve this in his own career and is delighted that she can.

Dana nods slowly, a blush creeping up her fine, pale cheeks. She spears a plantain and examines it on the end of her fork. “It’s obviously not a formal offer yet, my god, he’s only just been released to the family, but yes. It’s tremendous.” She bites into the plantain.

He thinks back to that feeling of wanting a baby, wanting her to have it, and knows that the new Chief Medical Examiner of DC will have other pressures, other concerns.

She’s expressed interest in babies in a vague sort of way, but doesn’t want them like he does. Dana grew up with hand-me-downs and home haircuts and spaghetti the last week of every month. She knows that babies grow into scraped-kneed children who need lunch money and trombones and French tutors and football uniforms.

He’s rich enough for it all, for night nurses and nannies, but he knows her body is not a rental property. He wants a baby, he does, but he also doesn’t care if it means this for her. He doesn’t care if her star can rise.

“I love you,” he says, raising his plastic cup of horchata. “And I’m so goddamn sorry about Ansel.”

She lifts hers back, his wife, her old-master face and her slapdash smile. “Thank you,” she says, still pained. “And slaínte.”

“L’chaim,” he replies. To life.

#xf fanfic #xfiles fanfic #my fic #prompt #daniel waterston #the fisher king #coffe shop au

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vetted-gaza-funds · 7 months ago

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Info (WIP)

Complete master list of all campaigns on this blog here!

This blog is run by @palms-upturned. I am a white USAmerican, and I do not vet fundraisers. Unfortunately, I cannot help with the vetting process in any way. This blog is meant to be a place to broadcast fundraisers that have already been vetted by Palestinian bloggers and organizations, mostly by users el-shab-hussein, nabulsi, 90-ghost, and ibtisams. None of us will ever be able to thank these users enough for the life-saving work that they have done and continue to do. If you cite this blog, please do not say “verified/vetted by vetted-gaza-funds”. Instead, please consider copy/pasting the sources that I link in my posts, or at the very least link directly to my post about the fundraiser in question where the sources can be found and say “featured on” rather that “vetted by.”

This blog is also going to be used more as a directory/master list than an actual blog. The aim is for people to be able to search usernames of people in Gaza and find links to verifications from multiple sources, as well as things like raffles or giveaways promoting certain campaigns, in one convenient place. For reblogs/signal boosting, please go to my main blog, @palms-upturned. If you are a user in Gaza promoting a fundraiser, I am more than happy to promote it for you, but I will only post about it on this blog once, and all other promotions will be on my other blog. I promise I am not ignoring you.

Here is a post with a list/directory of organizational tags on this blog. (WIP)

Sources where you can find vetted fundraisers:

el-shab-hussein and nabulsi's spreadsheet

gazafunds.com

Operation Olive Branch’s spreadsheet

Strawberry Seed Collective’s master list

Operation Poppy Flower

Project Watermelon master list

GoFund(water)Me(lons) master list

Ottawa4Palestine

Pali Pals on instagram

If someone in Gaza reaches out to you asking for help promoting their campaign, here's some things that you can do:

Do not report someone unless they are a known scammer. This platform has been targeting Palestinian users in Gaza for bans and terminations consistently, forcing them to remake their accounts several times, so a blog that appears new is not necessarily a red flag and may even already be vetted. Some users also take longer to get verified than others, especially those who struggle the most with staying connected to the internet. If someone reaches out to you and you can't find verification, please, just wait.

Along with sharing their posts, make your own original post linking to their campaign, even if it's just the link and a few words saying that you donated to them.

Link to a verification source in your posts about fundraisers. People are trying to avoid circulating unvetted fundraisers, so they'll be more likely to engage with your post if they can see proof that the campaign is legitimate. It will also help people who come across your post while doing a quick tumblr search of someone's username or fundraiser to check if someone has been vetted.

Posts with artwork/graphics typically gain more traction. User aces-and-angels, with the help of volunteer artists and designers, has been compiling a master post of donated artwork that is free to use to help boost fundraisers for people in Gaza, so check it out here and consider using these images in your posts! Please consider submitting artwork of your own as well for the cause.

Please considering sponsoring a campaign! There are many ways to do this. Some users have put together raffles where proof of a donation of a certain amount earns one entry into the raffle. Some users have offered charity commissions in exchange for donations to a campaign. Some users offer to match donations up to a certain amount, or promise to do/make something if a fundraiser reaches a certain milestone. I plan on eventually making a tag for campaigns with no sponsors so that people can look through it and hopefully pick one to sponsor. If you let me know about your efforts, I will add links/information about it to the post about the campaign you’re sponsoring!

Please spare a few minutes to look through this post about some recently terminated GoFundMe campaigns and how you can help pressure the platform into hopefully giving the funds back to the organizers.

Icon source | Banner design source

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funny-upset-clown · 11 months ago

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EROS OBJECT

Kiss me with graces, and glances, and gay arrangements.

I hole up in my relief for you. For you i remove just my sex, and become it-- betraying my hands, my eyes, i become your compulsion.

I stretch the small opening of myself like a hide to your metal bed with freezing wire, lillylike it sheds new, new, new, dew with leopard like confessions and poppy-patterned delights.

You and I are face to face yet you recognize I am without expression, teeth, ears.

When you finish I do not regain myself, my arms- no- I am waiting in that state for your skin again, strung tight and single watching your body like a hawk. Meanwhile, that shape that is muscling into a beg is my body, begging is all of my adoration for us two at once. All of me is located at the treacherous split of my thighs, i swallow you up in a soaring heat, whistling up your spine, nuzzling into nothing.

As soon as I entirely become an object, I excel and surpass myself. I double into the choking yo-yo, the kinetic pistol. Then again, the hand holding the pistol, again- the darting eyes steadying the hand, again- the spared blood. In your hands I feel like a toy, but in the backside of our joy is my sunken and concealed ammunition, the fluid of my drive. I bring you inside out, I raise your heart, your breath.

I gain freedom when this farce of me is still, and cut and spread on a bed of fallacies. This strange organ I devolve into, is one that is inside and out, for even when I am passive, even in my degradation, i am angelic in complexity, and just as unfathomably beautiful, because in me is the hidden source of your completion, idle.

These secrets do not derive from an interior place or are corporeal through flemish words. Violence will not dispell the sacred bond of my unknown capacity into the hands of blind lust. For you to even bring my inside out, what once was not seen that is then exposed, you will not have me then, for that unknown piece will jump to each place you cannot reach until it is your very self you must disembowel. Even then. I surpass every object, finding myself in the atomic ransack of our parts, finding my trace in the debris of immanence interrupted. sitting like a seed in your chemical memory, your ejaculation is mine.

But I am just a hole.

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acheronist · 10 months ago

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🧛🏻‍♀️⚰️

disclaimer i am not a scholar or a historian or an archaeologist. i just like vampires in a freak way and read a lot of weird articles + listen to podcasts and think about this a lot.

so the vampire burials that i know the most about were done in the general region of like... hungary / slovakia / romania / poland kind of following along the line of the carpathian mountain range. but also then in like, early america as well for some reason. random ass 1700s vampire hysteria panic swept the nation (all 25 square miles of it).

anyways so this area in europe is notorious for vampire folklore anyways so it tracks that where the european vampire folklore was originating = where people are most frightened of it for real. and so the vampire graves that have been excavated and studied are HONESTLY PROBABLY just the graves of like..... normal people who were ill in some way, and therefore cast into a suspicious light, and then died. but it was a fairly common belief that if someone WAS a vampire, especially prior to dying, then they'd return from the dead and attack and kill their family first before moving onto friends and neighbors and the rest of the community. bad for the community. so after the "vampire" in question died, the living would take extra steps to ensure that the deceased would not rise from the grave again and start killing them because well No One would like that! so one one hand its really kind of upsetting that-- essentially-- the dead were being accused and vandalized without the ability to protect or defend themselves AND THEN ALSO having their burial rites get screwed around with. sure you prevented the vampires but now we've got fucking ghosts. great work everyone.

and then on the other hand morbid freaky trivia is so fascinating to MEEEEEEE so here some of the most dramatic methods that i can recall from the top of my head:

dismembering the deceased's corpse ( with an emphasize on decapitation)

and for the decapitation, sickles or hand scythes were placed over the deceased's neck, so if they lived and sat up again, they'd cut their own throat

also rearranging the dismembered body (pieces) or the body (whole) in specific patterns

padlocking the deceased's feet together

placing bricks or rocks into the deceased's mouth, either breaking their teeth or making it impossible for any postmortem vampire zombie bite damage to be inflicted upon the living

pinning the deceased's corpse into the ground via steel or iron stakes to keep them from getting up. often stakes were stabbed thru the heart which is where the motif in media today comes from

but also sometimes removing the heart from the deceased completely and burning it also happened

burying the deceased with wreathes of garlic and poppy seeds and paprika peppers to act as wards to keep them where they were. which is hilarious also when you take into account how much garlic and poppy and paprika gets used in eastern european cuisine

and i might be making this part up LMAO but i feel like in my heart. and brain. that i remember a colonial american(?) story where an autopsy was performed on a recently deceased girl(??) whose organs still looked "fresh" and functional, as it were, and not like the organs of someone dead. because she was obviously rising from the dead and drinking the blood of the living which we can tell from her remarkably fresh organs. this was another great instance of vampire organ harvesting but i for SURE need to go try and find my source for this again.

and similarly, i also am like 90% sure I've read about exhuming someone who had been accused of being a vampire, and judging how their rate of decomposition was going, and if they looked too fresh and alive then they were a vampire and we can brutally kill them again. obviously differences in burial climates and situations would have no bearing or affect upon the body's rate of decay btw.

but then as we work our way up thru history, illegal body snatching also became an incredibly common thing as anatomists and doctors and surgeons needed the bodies to learn from. and I'm SOOOO so certain that grave cages / mort safes were invented because normal people did not want their corpses to be body snatched and turned into underground med student dissection homework. BUT ☝🏻 i have also seen claims that cages over the graves were put in place to keep the vampires IN the grave, not to keep body snatchers OUT of the grave. and then I went hmm. where have I seen big elaborate grave cages before?

mother fucking henry ford has a mort safe cage on his shit, so the only reasonable conclusion to all of this is that henry ford was a vampire. amen. my edible is hitting now and i cant think of a good conclusion to this post sorry. someday i will write an essay. or finish making my gay ass zine about this.

#vamp

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upon-deaf-ears · 6 months ago

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also been seeing sm mlp infected au and i CANNOT stop thinking about that in warrior cats (old territory tho, not new)

cw: death, gore, self mutilation

the outbreak starts in thunderclan first because they’re closest to the twoleg place, right? one day firestar is leading a border patrol w/ cloudtail, thornclaw & shrewpaw because apparently kittypet scent has been all over the border and there have been really weird noises. they’re approaching and they see this kittypet, maybe apprentice-aged — not even an adult yet, collapsed at the border in what looks like a bear trap.

this rancid scent is in the air, like blood but somehow wrong. firestar is obviously cautious but they approach because its clearly dead.

it’s completely disfigured. fresh blood is coating its face, paws and chest, but even worse it’s eyes are stretched so wide and freakishly that it looks like the cat has gone completely blind. it’s bones look almost out of place, fur ragged and, upon closer inspection, seems to be completely rotting off in some places, but theres no way its veen dead for even 24 hours because they have regular patrols.

the whole patrol is put off, and firestar sends shrewpaw to fetch cinderpelt to figure out what the fuck happened.

thornclaw, squinting at the dead kittypet: "hey, uh.. firestar, i think hes still alive. can you hear us, kittypet?"

they all gather around it, and sure enough, its paws started to twitch. unnaturally, though, bending the wrong way. thornclaw prods it with a claw and it blinks.

it doesnt do anything at first, but its jaw cracks open wide and starts to let out the most blood-freezing noise, almost clicking and groaning noise that should be impossible for a cat.

they all back the fuck up, and it starts writhing. doesn’t even notice the teeth of the trap ripping and shredding its skin, bones cracking beneath the strength of it. the groaning noise is louder, almost like a scream, but still so un-catlike that the three are all frozen staring at this kittypet literally rip itself apart trying to get out.

cinderpelt can’t figure out what the fuck is wrong with it because none of them want to go anywhere near that thing, so she organizes an emergency meeting with the other clans' medicine cats and

firestar posts a guard— thornclaw— to watch it, only telling him to not touch it under any circumstances (per cinderpelts demand). he also informs the rest of the clan to keep an eye out and be extra cautious.

things get weirder. not even three days later, sandstorm and sorrelpaw come back early from training, reporting that there was another foreign cat walking just outside the border and making that same sound.

"firestar.. it was wrong. you should’ve seen it. it’s legs were freakishly long, and it’s back seemed to be permanently hunched. it was walking like it was.. i dunno, i can’t even explain it."

"and the smell was awful, like it'd been dead for weeks. we weren’t close, but i swear it’s skin was rotting off, and it’s jaw was completely broken."

thornclaw comes back from his post because he can’t seem to stay on his feet. tells firestar he’s exhausted and needs a break; plus, the kittypet stopped moving. firestar of course agrees and has him rest in the medicine cat den for some peace and quiet, but in the next few days cinderpelt tells firestar that thornclaw has been completely restless at night. she can see the bags under his eyes, and his pupils seem to be… smaller? it’s unlike anything she’s ever seen.

out of precaution, she quarantines him in the old twoleg nest. her reports get increasingly concerning.

first, it’s that he seems like he’s.. almost growing? hes been complaining and writhing at night, his legs apparently aching so bad he can’t sit still, even poppy seeds don’t help, but there doesn’t seem to be anything wrong. he‘s also been anxious. there have been times cinderpelt comes to check on him and he whips around, claws out, fur bristling. she catches him staring at the doorway all night, barely blinking, hunched over himself. on multiple occasions.

things start happening quickly. thornclaw ms ribs started showing, and he began getting snappy with cinderpelt. she also tells firestar he’s been scratching and biting his legs to the point of self mutilation, but when she tries to get him to stop, he flips out.

she doesn’t know what to do. he’s definitely taller now, and his fur seems patchy. thornclaw began coughing up blood, and his paranoia intensified, making it unsafe for cinderpelt to even be there. his weightless was even more rapid, despite eating far more than normal.

the second night, she wakes up to shrieking. she finds thornclaw writhing on the ground, screaming to make it stop, that his body is on fire. his eyes are glazed wide, just like the kittypet they found, and she can hear his this gut wrenching cracking sound. blood is leaking out of his eyes and jaw. he lashes out, and she’s forced to flee, alerting the clan.

they come as soon as they can with warriors, but thornclaw vanished.

MORE ON THIS LATER WHEN ITS NOT THREE IN THE MORNING… warriors cat brainrot has me in a chokehold.

#warrior cats #warrior cats infected au #infection au #horror #warrior cats au #zombie

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collar-shocked · 10 days ago

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Could you ramble more about Lawrence, please?

HEEHEEHEE, I have very little time before going to work but I can throw in a few deets for you, Nonny.......

Lawrence is extremely paranoid and has almost 10 locks on his door because of it. He enjoys the nighttime a lot more than the daytime because in his opinion, the monsters are better.

His love for plants stems from the fact that they need his attention to thrive and can not talk, judge, argue, or fight back. Something to rely on him entirely to survive. Something to make his role in life important, as if he was not there to tend to them, they would die. He doesn't feel like a burden or like a bad person with plants as he does with people or animals because plants have no outward reaction to his pinches and pin-pricks. He's good at plants. He understands plants. It's his one area of expertise and one of the only things that makes him feel validated. He understands their language and can identify when there's a problem and what they need, like when the leaves go dry or the stems become droopy. Makes him feel kinda like a doctor!

His favorite kinds of plants are foliage, as if that wasn't obvious. Flowers are nice, but there's just something about bare green. And also mushrooms, he seems to like those, too.

This one isn't canon but after digging through some pages, I've made up my own HC about what his toxic-tea could really be. Poppy Seed Tea! I won't go into how to make it because I don't want anyone getting addicted to opiates, but know in higher dosages it is very unhealthy and right up his alley.

Lawrence became the Lich simply by finding the bog and lying down in it, deciding to mentally go to and stay in The River. He laid there for 20 years before checking back in with reality and seeing how his body had withered- not just withered, but changed. Meaning, Lawrence is still the same damn guy from BTD2, and all the poetic bullshit the Lich speaks in TPOF is just Law being spooky scary silly. I love him to bits. (ALTHOUGH it could be argued he just.... became more artistic during his time in The Veil. It HAD been 20 years, after all.)

Speaking of TPOF, Derek is actually made up of unused/scrapped Lawrence parts! (Can not remember if this has been confirmed or not......)

Since he's dead, every second he spends in The River allows his body to rot. He goes there quite often, so he stinks of death- still in the sickly sweet stage.

I like to think that while Law DOES have music he enjoys, he likes putting on ambience a lot more. He seems like a 'Tabletop RPG background noise' enjoyer.

Personal HC that he keeps his hair longer because he likes to watch it grow. It's a nice, slow process- just like changes in his plants.

He works overnight in a warehouse from 11 PM to 7 AM. (If I'm remembering right...) He's a storage worker, so he's ALWAYS lifting big heavy creates- but we know job titles come with smaller responsibilities, so it's likely he's also labeling, organizing, and cleaning things, too. Basically, Lawrence probably has really strong hips and knees. Do with that what you will.

THERE'S SOME LOVINS FOR LAWLAW FOR NONNY. THANK U!!!

#Lawrence therapy before work #siiiggghhh <<33

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eldritch-bf · 4 days ago

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Easy Seed Bombing/Native Pollinator Planting!🐝🌼🦋

There are over 100,000 seeds per shaker! If you don’t want/can’t afford to buy the $45 three pack, you can buy the individual shakers for $15ish (links below). I bought the three pack and plan to give away two of the shakers as gifts and keep one for myself. They’re also compostable :)

One shaker can properly cover a roughly 300 sq ft area (an area 15x20ft, or three 10x10ft areas, or twelve 5x5ft areas, etc.)

I would order soon! Depending on your area your average last frost date might be coming up so the coming weeks/months would be the perfect time to sprinkle these seeds.

These are native wildflower seeds but it’s a U.S. company and what’s native in Maine might be considered a noxious weed in New Mexico, let alone on another continent, so I’ve included the list they provide here. Sadly they only use common names, but I would suspect unless you and 50 other people are buying their 25-lb bulk bags, there’s no real risk of anything potentially non-native becoming well-established enough to become a problem (for USers that is). They do have regional-specific mixes you can look for on their website.

Save The Monarchs:

Butterfly Milkweed (Asclepias), Aster, Purple Coneflower, Rocket Larkspur, Indian Blanket, Lilliput Zinnia, Siberian Wallflower, Gayfeather, French Marigold, Sensation Cosmos, Bright Lights Cosmos, Mexican Sunflower, and Hoary Vervain.

Save The Bees:

Butterfly Milkweed, New England Aster, Wallflower, Coreopsis, Cosmos, Sweet Alyssum, Red Corn Poppy, California Orange Poppy, Purple Coneflower, Yellow Prairie Coneflower, Gaillardia, Lemon Queen, Gayfeather, Lupine, Bergamot, Primrose, Phacelia, Crimson Clover, and Baby Blue Eyes.

Hummingbirds & Butterflies:

Butterfly Milkweed, Chinese Forget Me Not, Columbine, Snapdragon, Aster, Cosmos, Larkspur, Foxglove, Bird's Eye, Praire Clover, Alyssum, Four O' Clock-Marvel, Lemon Mint, Maltese Cross, Jasmine, Poppy, Penstemon, Sage, Catchfly, Marigold, Nasturtium, Zinnia, & Treemallow.

You could keep one of the shakers in your bag/purse for if you see an opportunity arise. I recommend sprinkling seeds in random plots of dirt/weeds in urban/suburban areas that seem to be unmaintained or abandoned, rather than someone’s front lawn or a manicured public park, as owners/city workers will likely go through the effort of destroying them, probably with chemical weed killer, and the main point is to create little pollinator sanctuaries, not annoy neighbors/government workers.

That being said fuck golf courses.

So maybe sprinkle these seeds someplace you go to with some regularity, such as the bus stop, your favorite restaurant, or just along your walking/jogging route, so you can see their progress as they grow and maybe even give them some water sometime!

#backyard garden #gardening #ecopunk #solarpunk #seed bombing #native plants #pollinators #native pollinators #save the bees #save the monarchs #butterflies #lepidoptera #bees #honey bees #anti lawn

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crowzwrites · 4 months ago

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Silent Comfort

Brilliant minds

Josh Nichols/Oliver Wolf

Teen

Hurt/comfort, pre-relationship

writing under the cut if you'd like to read it here!

It's been a long day of non stop surgeries and hastily inhaling coffee when he isn't busy, Josh feels the ache in his feet and dull throbbing in his head as he walks down the hallway to leave. Go home and have a nice brew of herbal tea, sit back and watch some mindless TV and game shows until he falls asleep. Of course that is until he hears a quiet sniffing noise as he walks past someone's office, he shouldn't but Josh knows he'd feel infinitely guilty walking past and not helping. He turns and sees the looking placard of ‘Dr Wolf’, he's not equipped to deal with this, not when all he wants to do is sleep but curiosity gets the best of him.

“Wolf, you in there?” he gently knocks on the door.

No reply, he's probably hoping that Josh leaves him alone but he is a stubborn man that when he does something he's committed. Josh takes in a breath before announcing:

“I'm coming in.”

The sight he's met with is well it pulls at his heart because he's never seen the stoic doctor in such a state.

“Nichols… What are you?” Wolf trails off, refusing to make eye contact with him.

“I heard something, I just wanted to make sure you're alright. Which clearly you're not but I shouldn't intrude, I'll just…”

“You-you can stay,” Wolf glances at him, eyes shimmering “If you'd like.”

“Of course.”

Josh sits down, sighing in relief as his feet are killing him but also he's glad that Wolf trusts him enough to see him like this even if they aren't massively close though he wishes they were and that he wasn't such an asshole to new people and scaring them off like a vulture. Wolf doesn't seem to mind his sarcastic nature even if he frowns upon it, they certainly have an opposites attract dynamic which he appreciates.

“To be honest I'm not sure why I'm upset or crying. It's unusual.” he admits and fidgets with his fingers.

“It's natural Wolf, sometimes it can be a combination of things; difficult patients, personal conflicts, anything. I think it's alright to just let it out sometime.”

“I suppose.”

They drift into silence, Wolf has stopped sniffling but his eyes are all puffy and red. Nichols fishes a packet of tissues out his bag and hands them to the other doctor wordlessly who accepts with a muttering thanks.

“How about we go to the coffee shop around the corner? They do great bagels.”

“I'd like that.” He smiles.

Josh feels the urge to touch Wolf's cheek and hold him close, usually he's not a physical person but he gets the vibe that Wolf is. Incessant, pesky thoughts, they've barely gotten past the colleagues stage and the last thing he'd want to do is push his feelings onto the man when he has enough to deal with. These feelings seemingly came out of nowhere and he hates that all it took was some probably-not-flirting and being ignored as unfortunately he always goes after the ones that are the hardest to get. Josh sighs as they make their way through the constantly busy halls of the hospital. Briefly he swears he sees one of Wolf's puppy dog interns smiling at him but he chooses to ignore that.

Thankfully this coffee shop stays open late, he elects to get a chamomile tea whilst Wolf chooses some matcha tea. Of course he also gets a poppy seed bagel with cream cheese. He watches Wolf search for his wallet and curse when he realizes he left it in his office, Josh smiles and pays for them both. He looks like he's about to insist to pay him back but Josh shakes his head.

“Don't worry about it.” he winks and taps his card.

Instead of going back home or to the other doctors office, they sit at the back of the shop. He can feel the awkwardness emanating from Wolf as he nervously plays with his jacket and refuses to make eye contact, when the beverages and food arrives he seems to relax a little more and Josh can't help but feel like this is a date. It's not of course but there's nothing wrong with a little hope and imagination.

“Thank you.” Wolf says, sipping his tea and taking a bite out of his bagel.

“Of course, I'm glad we got over our difficult start. You're not so bad, Wolf.”

“You're not so bad yourself, Nichols.” he rolls his eyes.

Josh laughs, it's not funny but he can't help it. The rest of the not-date is spent talking about patients because they wouldn't be doctors if they didn't have the odd light gossip still maintaining patient confidentiality of course. Wolf has had it busy lately with weird and wonderful patients that he'd heard about from others, someone he'd missed a whole case about a group of girls having stress induced hysteria that caused fake pregnancies. Josh watched Wolf excitedly explain what had happened and he couldn't help but notice how his brown irises just light up when he talks about his passion and the weird abnormalities that happen day to day in his field. Not that there aren't any in his though most of them aren't neurological.

He'd long since finished his tea when they decided to part ways with a profuse thanks from Wolf.

“One more thing,” Wolf turns around, he feels a flash of anxiety. “You can call me Josh if you'd like.”

“Oliver then. Goodnight Josh.”

Josh is smiling to himself on his drive home through the dark winter night, he's glad to have hopefully eased the upset from Wolf- no- Oliver even if he's not the best at dealing with that kind of thing. When he gets home, he ends up making a quick dinner before flopping on his bed with a sense of satisfaction. Falling asleep thinking of those deep irises, emotional face and how his voice sounded saying his name.

#brilliant minds #josh nichols #oliver wolf #wolfnichols #zachary quinto #fic #writing #brilliant minds fic

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aficgroupexport · 1 year ago

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Organic Urad Dal, Moong Dal Chilka, Arhar Dal, Lal Masoor Dal, Yellow Maize and Poppy Seeds Exporters and Suppliers in Gujarat, India

#Organic Urad Dal #Moong Dal Chilka #Arhar Dal #Lal Masoor Dal #Yellow Maize and Poppy Seeds Exporters #Suppliers in Gujarat #india

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pocket-sized-nightmare · 8 months ago

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here’s my entry for day 3 of @gem-pearl-week 2024! today’s prompt is “flowers/decay”

It starts with a garden, as many things do.

Saint Pearl’s garden, to be exact. It’s the pride and joy of her floating island. She grows every flower and crop she can think of, then cooks it all into tasty treats or clothing dyes. Every color of the rainbow weaves through the garden’s neat rows, stretching from red poppies on one end to black wither roses on the other.

The wither roses are both a memory and a necessity. Black dye is an integral part of Pearl’s art studio, and without a squid population in her river, she needs wither roses to craft it. They’re easy enough to cultivate if you know how to harvest their seeds, and their pigment is deep enough to last for years. It doesn’t hurt that the sight of the rose blossoms is a reminder of her past and the memories she’s shared with her loved ones. As long as she avoids the thorns, the flowers are beautiful.

When Pearl needs black dye for a banner project, she returns to her garden to harvest a few wither roses. A dark layer of clouds follows her outside, followed by heavy humidity in the air. Pearl looks up and absentmindedly notes the upcoming thunderstorm, then kneels down beside the closest flower bed.

The soft scent of rose petals and smoke drifts into the air as she picks a few stems and drops them into a basket. Something about the clouds overhead leaves an odd feeling in Pearl’s chest. She shakes it off, takes a deep breath, and returns to her work. She only needs a few more flowers, anyway, and then she can go inside. She reaches out, brushes her fingers against another stem, and–

A thorn pricks her finger.

Wither poison instantly infects the cut, leaving Pearl’s right hand numb from fingertip to wrist. It’s a simple injury, easily cured with a bandage and some milk, but she can’t force herself to move her hand away from the rose. She stares in horror at the thorn in her finger as the wither poison spreads further down her arm. Her veins turn a strange shade of purple, and she can feel a numb emptiness reaching through her entire body. It’s a familiar, horrifying feeling.

She’s collapsed on the ground, trying so hard to put on a brave face. Sausage is next to her, muttering spell after spell and watching them all fail.

Pearl’s hand goes limp, and she drops the rose. She backs away from the garden in horror, barely aware of the tears pouring down her face.

She’s more afraid than she’s ever been in her life. Her whole body burns with poison and fire, but she barely feels it. Everything is swallowed up by a thick layer of grief – grief for places, for people, for memories she’ll never get back again. It’s all gone. Everything is gone.

Thunder roars overhead, and raindrops mingle with the tears in Pearl’s eyes. She stumbles backwards and falls. “It’s okay,” she mutters, desperate to believe it. “It’s okay. I’m okay. I’m alive. I’m not there anymore. It’s over. All of it is over. It’s over, it’s over, oh, void, it’s over…”

Pearl’s whole body feels numb. She can feel her heart pounding in her chest and hear her heartbeat in her ears. It’s too fast. Any second now, it’ll stop entirely. “It’s over,” Pearl whispers. “I’m alive. It’s over. I’m okay. It’s over, it’s over, make it stop, make it–”

Gem comes running outside, holding an umbrella over her head. “Pearl, what are you doing outside? It’s pouring rain!”

Pearl doesn’t look up at Gem. She stays on the ground, staring into space and muttering under her breath.

Gem notices the poison marks on Pearl’s arm. “Oh, no, did you get cut? Here, I have milk in my inventory. Drink this.”

“Get away from me,” Pearl murmurs.

Gem pulls back, startled. It’s as though Pearl doesn’t even see her. “Hey, Pearl, what’s happening? It’s okay. It’s just a wither rose.” Gem kneels down next to her and puts a hand on her shoulder. “I know it hurts, but it’s just–”

“No, stop!” Pearl shouts desperately. A burst of golden light explodes around her, burning Gem’s hands as it pushes her away. “Stop! You have to get out of here!”

As the light fades, Pearl is curled up in a ball on the ground, surrounded by a cage of golden thorns. She doesn’t even seem to see them around her. Gem stares in horror. Pearl has had mishaps with her godly powers in the past, but she’s never lost control like this before.

As Pearl sobs and struggles to catch her breath, Gem manages to make out a few words: “withering” and “said it wouldn’t happen again.” It doesn’t take long for her to put the pieces together. Oh, void, no wonder she’s so afraid.

Gem hasn’t so much as picked up a spellbook in decades, but after years of teaching wizardry to young children, counterspells are still second nature to her. She takes a deep breath, presses her hands against the cage, and whispers something inaudible.

The thorns recede slightly, but Gem can feel Pearl’s powers fighting back. Gem remembers an awful night from years ago, back in the Crystal Cliffs at the end of the world, when she had locked herself in her wizard tower and refused to let fWhip in, terrified he was another attacker coming to kidnap her again. It had taken him nearly three hours just to convince her to take down the barrier spell around the door. She can’t believe she never considered Pearl might be hiding trauma, too. “Pearl, it’s okay. It’s gonna be okay.”

“No, you have to leave,” Pearl murmurs. “Let me go. Don’t stay. I’m not losing you too–”

Gem closes her eyes and whispers a new spell. It’s a simple magic-detection charm, and it surrounds the golden thorns with purple light. “Pearl, look at me. You have to look at me. You are outside in a thunderstorm in your garden, and you pricked your finger on a wither rose.”

Pearl looks around, seeing the thorns as though for the first time. “Gem, what– you can’t be–” She struggles to catch her breath through her sobs. “You can’t be here, you’re gonna get hurt…”

“I’m not hurt, Pearl. I’m okay. I’m right here in your garden, and so are you. You are not dying. I promise. It’s going to be alright.”

Pearl curls up against the thorns, shaking uncontrollably. “I don’t know what’s happening to me. Please make it stop. Gem, I can’t make it go away…”

“I know.” Gem has never been more grateful for her education training. “Follow me.” She closes her eyes and slowly moves her hand away from the thorns. The purple light surrounding them begins to fade.

Pearl takes a shuddery breath and does the same. The thorns recede a few pixels. “I’m sorry.”

“You have nothing to apologize for.” Gem slowly dispels a bit more of her magic. “It’s scary. I know.”

Pearl mirrors Gem. Bit by bit, the thorns let her go. Gem presses a bucket of milk into her hands, and despite the nausea building in her stomach, she forces herself to swallow a few sips of it. A cool, soothing feeling washes over her arm as it neutralizes the poison in her veins.

Gem holds out her arms for a hug. Pearl falls into them, sobbing. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry, I’m sorry, void, I’m so sorry…”

Gem holds Pearl closer. “There’s nothing to apologize for. No one is angry. No one’s hurt, either. Not even a little bit. You went through something awful, and that doesn’t just go away. It’s okay. You’re safe. I’m right here.”

All the energy floods out of Pearl’s body, and she curls up in Gem’s arms. Gem can see the exhaustion in her eyes. “Can we go inside?” Pearl whispers in a tone that makes it clear she’s only just processed the raging thunderstorm above them.

“Of course,” Gem says as she helps Pearl to her feet. They walk into Pearl’s cottage together in silence. After a moment, Gem asks, “How many times has this happened?”

“A few.” Pearl doesn’t look up. “I’ve been trying to deal with it, but today…”

“Hey.” Gem cups Pearl’s face in her hands and kisses her on the forehead. “You don’t have to deal with this alone. You, me, Sausage… none of us came out of Empires unscathed. We’re all still healing, and that includes you.”

“But I’m supposed to protect you,” Pearl says. “That’s why I’m here.”

Gem’s heart breaks as she gazes into her partner’s eyes. How long has she believed this? “Pearl, you’re here because we love you. I love you. Not because you have anything to do for me, not because of your powers, but because you’re you. That will never change.”

“I want to believe you,” Pearl whispers. “I really do.”

“I know.” Gem squeezes Pearl’s hand. “You will, someday. And I’ll be here for you the whole time. Now, let’s go change into dry clothes, alright?”

The rest of their day is put on hold in favor of a blanket fort, a movie night with Sausage and Bubbles, and homemade pizza for dinner. Pearl’s guilt over her flashback is slowly replaced with gratitude as she curls up in the blanket fort next to her loved ones – the very reason she’s still alive to begin with. “Thank you for everything,” she whispers as she drifts off to sleep.

Gem kisses Pearl’s forehead. “Always. You deserve it.”

Despite the horrors they’ve all seen, that evening, the floating island is free of nightmares.

#empiresshipping #gempearl #gempearlweek2024 #the p in ptsd stands for pearlescentmoon /j #anyway i love the idea of saint pearl and her loved ones after the events of empires s1 #they’ve been through so much. and they’re so full of love

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