#patio ware

[cerealkiller740]

1956 Revere Patio Ware pots and pans

[stone-cold-groove]

What’s cooking?

[ithebookhoarder]

(BAU Headcanons) Spending a day off with your S.O.

Aaron Hotchner

Ok. So. First of all... Aaron's casual wardrobe is sinful and I feel like I need to mention it when talking about days off. After all, he's not going to turn down the excuse not to wear a shirt and tie, knowing jeans and his usual polo shirts are better suited to both relaxing and possibly chasing after Jack.

If you two ever got a rare day off then he would do his best to make you breakfast in bed, knowing that having an excuse to stay in bed is a luxury.

If Jack is with you, and not at Jessica's, then you know Jack would be right next to him in the kitchen, begging to help. I mean, if you watch Bluey, picture the episode where Bingo is trying to make that omelette for Bandit on his birthday... that's basically the vibe here.

Hotch wouldn’t try to force you out of the house if you didn’t want to go, as he’s perfectly happy to stay in and play with you and Jack. After all, you have the most recent lego set, which you bought him for his birthday, to finish building.

"You up for that buddy? Six hands are better than four, after all."

Or, if you don't have the energy or patience, then you three can curl up on the sofa together and watch movies and the backlog of tv shows you’ve missed out on whilst you’ve been away working. 

Fun Fact: Aaron would rather die than admit to the rest of the BAU that you got him hooked on reality shows like The Real Housewives of Beverley Hills or Below Deck -but he is. He finds them fascinating case studies in human behaviour... or that's his excuse anyway when you call him out on it.

However, if you do want to actually leave the house and get outside then he’d be pretty relaxed about whatever it is you wanted to do, as long as you could all do it together. 

He'd also love it if you both got the chance to go for a run, enjoying the rare opportunity to race you through the nearby park. You can just soak in the sunshine and watch the other people as they make their way through the world, before grabbing a coffee on your way home.  

David Rossi 

Rossi is a man who knows the value of creature comforts, as we've seen repeatedly in the show. You know this man enjoys having time off to indulge himself - and you too.

As soon as he knows he has the day off, you can bet he's driving you to the local farmer's market to buy all the ingredients needed for a home cooked feast. 

Despite promising to be there only an hour, you know he's the kind of person who would talk to each and every vendor, learning all their names and asking after their families as if they've been friends since birth.

You'd end up spending almost the entire morning - and part of the afternoon - shopping, sampling various treats and wares, and buying several bag's worth, before you're finally able to drag him back to the car.

As he's cooking, Rossi would definitely play his favourite records. He alternates between crooning along and telling you tidbits about the artists - and the many crazy memories he has about these records.

"Did I ever tell you about the time I first heard this? We were in this tiny little motel, in the middle of a horrific blizzard, and several whiskeys in..."

It's hard not to get distracted, drawn in as he pulls you close and starts dancing about the kitchen. You'd get so distracted that you almost let dinner spoil and only remember it's even there when you start to smell something burning.

"Ah! Merda!"

After dinner you know you'd end up outside on his patio, enjoying the view as the sun goes down, over a cocktail of his choosing.

Derek Morgan

You know this eager beaver would not be spending a day off with you doing nothing or letting the day ‘go to waste’.

He’d be at your doorstep bright and early, looking unfairly energetic for someone who has been running on minimal sleep all week.

Thankfully, he brings coffee and breakfast with him which is his way of bribing you to get your ass up and out with him. 

As for the day itself, he’d either have the day planned to a ’t’ or he’d have nothing planned at all. 

“Relax, sweetness, we’re letting the day take us where it may. Enjoy the ride.” 

He'd love having a reason to take you to whatever property he's renovating, hoping to share his vision for the place and getting your opinion on it all.

He'd even let you have a swing or two with a sledgehammer if there's a dry-wall that needs taking down. It's a great stress-reliever for you both, and there's nothing like hammering along in the time to beat of whatever playlist he's chosen.

He'd also order you a pizza, or whatever take-out you fancied, as payment for all your hard work.

You know he'd also been keen to help you wash up later, running you both a hot bath to soak in as you actually have the time to enjoy it.

And just between us - he knows Hotch and Rossi would have his guts his they found out - but he may or may not have left your cellphones on the bed-side table just to ensure you get an hour of peace, undisturbed...

Emily Prentiss

Ok. So. Emily loves having a day off almost as much as she enjoys working.

She doesn't require much in the way of plans. In fact, her ideal day off from the BAU involves you, a crossword puzzle, and your usual table by the window at the coffee shop around the corner.

It's right by the window, so you can bathe in the sun whilst you nurse your way through coffee after coffee.

The whole place reminds her of one similar that she spent her time in, in Paris. Just like then, she loves reading books, and completing the daily crossword with your help.

"Damn it. This is what time in Europe gets you - I forgot there's no 'u' in color. No wonder it wasn't fitting."

Emily also has a game she likes to play, watching the people around you, guessing what their stories are and imaging outlandish profiles for them all. It's a privilege to enjoy it when it's for entertainment and not out of a need to be aware of your surroundings or an ongoing threat assessment. 

Afterwards, you'd go for a stroll around the park and most likely visit the shops you rarely get a chance to.

You both spend ages going through the racks and modelling outfits for one another, knowing you need some new things to fill out your wardrobes other than work-attire. It's a like private treat for yourselves.

Once you're home again, I feel Emily would want to cook and would do a pretty good job when she has the energy. However, she is not above ordering takeout when you both can’t be bothered. 

After all, it gives you both more time together to lie in bed, with Sergio curled up between you, purring loudly as you take it in turns to pet him.

JJ

Depending on when you two got together (before or after Will), she would love to have a chance for the both of you to spend the day with Henry.

You're her family and the most important thing in the world to her. It's why she can't stop beaming as you spend the afternoon at the park together, running rings around the place and clambering all over the playground.

"I swear this kid is faster than most of the Unsubs we chase - and more sneaky too."

JJ would bring all your favourite snacks with her so you can all lie out on the grass and feast once your energy levels drop. She doesn't even mention the sugar content or how many E-numbers there are. You all deserve a treat, Henry included, so she's willing to put her 'mom hat' aside for a minute.

I feel like she'd also try and put her mom hat aside so you two can have some time without a child in tow. She'd try and make a last minute arrangement to get a sitter so you two can have some 'adult' time.

This normally involves making a reservation at your favourite restaurant, and insisting on you both dressing fancy just for the fun of it.

After all, you never get to play at being grown ups and just enjoy wearing something because it looks nice and not because you can run around in the field in it.

"I've had these heels for years and I swear I've only got to wear them like three times - and this skirt! I love this skirt."

Once you get to the restaurant, you spend hours just talking, drinking, and eating before taking a stroll on the way home.

You then curl up in bed and fall asleep to the sound of the TV playing your favourite movies, safe and warm in each other's arms.

Penelope Garcia 

This girl is the queen of relaxing. If she doesn’t have to be awake before noon then you can bet your ass she’ll be tucked up and toasty till 12:01. 

Once she's awake, however, she's a flustered mess, struggling to pick between her various plans for your time off together. There's just so much she wants to do with you and never enough time.

"What? I'm the queen of fun and I just want to make sure we make the most of our time together, sugar plum. I can't help it. I'm excited to have a day just you and me, not that I don't love the others too. I do, but you know, just having it be us is rare -"

You stop her rambling with a kiss, which of course makes her melt.

I feel like Penelope would always try and spend part of the day with you in the kitchen, baking a new recipe to take to work for the others to try.

She'd also love spending the day on the sofa with you, watching either a Rom-com or a Sci-fi marathon (depending on your moods).

Once the decision has been made, she'd insist on gathering supplies - AKA: onesies, takeout and face masks.

"It's the holy trinity of self-care," she explains, holding up your choices. "Now, do you want the tea-tree or coconut face mask?"

However, if you do feel like getting out of the house, then Penelope would take you on theatre trips - which are booked last minute but with amazing seats (courtesy of Penelope’s connections and slightly unorthodox know-how).

The others are still jealous after finding out she got you tickets to Hamilton, front row, with the original cast.

Dr Spencer Reid

You know Spencer is the kind of person that has a list of things the size of his arm that he’d love to do with you on a rare day off. 

You’d probably have to negotiate with him to figure out which ones you could reasonably do in just 24 hours - and you try to find a balance between appeasing his interests and yours. 

For example, you don’t mind sitting through a Russian movie festival if afterwards he agrees to let you wander around your favourite bookshop and spend as long as you want exploring the shelves - without him critiquing or spoiling the endings before you even have a chance to read the blurb. 

If you also happened to let it slip that you'd never watched every single episode of Doctor Who that's ever been made, then you know your future days off will be spent marathoning on the couch. 

"I'm just saying that he's underrated as the Doctor as arguably the narratives of his episodes are far better developed and reflect the point of the show, which is that the Doctor isn't perfect but rather a time-travelling refugee who acts as a healer, counsellor, and protector of the universe. It's why he calls himself 'The Doctor' ..."

He always looks so adorable when he gets excited about something he loves. It's hard not to fall in love with him all over again.

Apart from watching TV, you both also love spending days off on that couch, curled up together, reading your way through the stack of books you both had in your never ending ‘TBR’ pile. 

Spencer would love listening to you discuss whatever you're reading, doing his best to memorise the characters, plots, and your thoughts on both. It's the least he can do when you listen so patiently every time he starts rambling on about whatever his latest hyper-fixation is.

"Can I... can I borrow that when you're finished? I'm now curious - just don't tell the others, ok?"

Masterlist

[mandarinmoons]

Hi Kettle, I was wondering if I could request perhaps a small fluff blurb where you and Spencer get married and live happily ever after in ur dream house. No pressure xoxoxoxo

You know I'm not one for writing something too self indulgent, but I could never pass up a request from you sweetheart hehe. Not exactly written as per request, but I think it's cute and that's all that matters x

“Hold on, I got it!”

Spencer grabbed the box out of your arms after you not even holding it for five seconds. You weren’t the strongest person, sure, but you were able to lift a few pounds, or twenty.

“Spencer, I can handle it. I’m not going to crack like a piece of China.”

“That might be true, but you definitely need to be handled with care as if you were a piece of fine porcelain.”

A chuckle left your lips as Spencer pressed a kiss to your cheek and strode off as he took a box of kitchen ware to the correct place.

A cool breeze brushed over your skin and you went to close the ajar patio door, but the sight of falling colorful leaves invited you to step outside and admire the beauty. Fall was your favorite season and no one was going to stop you from taking a moment to enjoy it.

Walking out and breathing in the crisp morning air felt satisfying beyond words. Spring is usually the time of year for people to start anew and get a fresh start, but for you, that feeling crept up during the last few weeks of summer. Relieved didn’t even begin to describe how you felt when your skin didn’t feel as clammy anymore due to the sweat brought on by the summer sun and as you packed away the swimsuits and made room again for the cozy sweaters.

You nearly jumped out of your skin when a hand snaked around your waist and were brought against their chest, but feeling the familiar sensation of nuzzling against your hair made you keenly aware who the person was and accepted the sweet gesture.

��What’re you thinking about?”

“Just how perfect everything seems.”

“I second that thought.”

Spencer’s thumbs caressed your side as you both took in the sight in front of you. Piles of red, orange and yellow foliage gathered around the backyard and in the distance you saw squirrels gathering up all the acorns they could find. All the greenery around you seemed to be wilting, but you found comfort in the fact that in due time it would bloom all over again.

“Do you want to go in and have some tea?”

“In a moment, I want to savor the feeling just a little bit longer.”

“Aren’t you cold though?”

You chuckled as you turned your head to look at the man behind you. His cheeks were already tinted pink from the cold, meanwhile you hadn’t felt a chill go down your spine since he took you in his embrace.

“As long as I’m in your arms I could never be cold.”

Spencer nuzzled his face into your hair more, leaving a trail of light kisses behind, “Good to know I’m doing my job well.”

Taglist: @radioactiveinvisible @whoisspence @sreidisms @lanascinnamongirls @luvkatryna @sp3ncelle @iluvreid @khxna @keiva1000 @reidstheyfriend @hiireadstuff @pleasantwitchgarden @cynbx @kimm4710 @niktwazny303 @reidsdaisies @mindfullycriminal @cumulo-stratus @gayfor-rosadiaz @gubsbuubs @multifandomsimp69 @chyozai @deppfanatic @potatovoyager @indyvelazquez @nini123 @justlivinginadaydream @kers505 @dan-the-womans-blog

Notice: I am no longer adding people into my taglist and will be discontinuing it soon so if you'd like to be kept up to date with my future works then please follow me x

You can find my masterlist here!

Let me know your thoughts in the comments and like & reblog to support <3

[hometoursandotherstuff]

Thanks to curiously for sending in this 1966 mid-century modern home in Boulder City, NV. 2bds, 2ba, $1.325M.

The angular home has lots of windows, a terrace surrounding the house, and lots of natural light. There are terrazzo floors, stone, wood paneling and look at the textured textured ceiling design.

There's a matching stone fireplace in the living room area.

MCM homes were the first to have open concept, so the next area is the kitchen dining space outside a service window. (There go the animal skins on slippery floors again.)

Looking out the service window from the kitchen.

The kitchen isn't huge, but it's conveniently arranged. I think that the cabinets are original and I like the colorful mosaic backsplace with the original counters.

There's a built-in shelf where the owner has a colorful collection of Fiesta Ware to match the tile.

This bedroom is delightful and, of course, has access to the wraparound deck.

There's a pass-thru with a closet and angular makeup vanity.

Amazingly, the blue toilet and sink are still original. I don't think the tile is, but it matches the era and the tub is a new reproduction of a Victorian claw foot.

Lovely family room with an inset desk.

This bath has the original blue fixtures.

A spiral staircase leads to this room at the top of the house. It has corner fireplace and door to the deck. This home could be decorated to look very cool.

Open the door, and there's a large cement deck.

The house has a nice 2 car garage.

View from the wraparound deck.

Path around the house.

Or, you can come down the stairs to this patio.

The home is surrounded by 1.81 acres of land.

https://www.zillow.com/homedetails/1415-Denver-St-Boulder-City-NV-89005/7225833_zpid/

[ladylooch]

Stop cause I miss Timo and Emma too😭 Something fluffy with the babies would really hit the spot right now 🤭

An overhead view of the state of the Meiers and their vacation rental would not clue an audience in that their vacation had only just begun. Instead, you would think they were at the end of their two week stay off the Spanish coast, hanging on my a thread.

“I think we are dumb.” Timo says to his wife, staring into the house from the entry way of their rental home in Ibiza. Him and Emma wanted to take their four kids- a 7 year old, a three year old and two almost two year olds- on a throw back vacation to a place they frequented before anything was serious between the two of them. The place where they have had the most fun. Neither of them really thought about how kid friendly any of this was, or factored in the plane ride with four babies so close to their nap times.

“Not our best idea.” Emma agrees with him taking in the crying faces of their three babies and a very zoned out 7 year old who can’t put his iPad down.

“I’ll take Liv and Logan.” Timo offers. 

“Yeah, I think Liam needs some mama time.” Emma agrees, shrugging her purse off her shoulder. Her and Timo enter the main area together, soothing their crabby and tired babies with gentle voices. They all gather on the large, sectional couch in the Living Room. Timo and Emma rub the backs of the babies in their arms. Lio lays down on Emma’s curled up legs, holding the iPad up towards the ceiling so he can continue to watch Mighty Ducks. 

“You good, Lee?” Emma asks, rubbing his head.

“Yeah.”

“Okay. Thank you for being our good boy today.” Emma assures him. He has been the easiest of the Meier children and Emma wants to show him some extra love for that.

Then her attention goes back to Liam. She presses her lips to his head, rubbing his back and letting him feel those big feels until his huge gasps turn into little whimpers. To her left, Timo already has Logan asleep and is sharing a sweet smooch with their daughter as he dries her cheeks. 

“Better?” He asks the little girl. She nods vigorously. Emma smiles as Livy curls into her dad’s shoulder.

In five more minutes, all the babies are asleep around their parents. Even Lio sleeps through the sound of skate blades and slapshots from his iPad. 

“We can’t move now. Another thing we did not think through.” Timo chuckles. “C’mere.” He motions with his head at his wife. Emma carefully leans into him, not wanting to move her legs out from under Lio. Content silence falls over them. Timo and Emma look out the large glass doors that lead onto a patio and eventually to a pool. After that is the crystal, blue sea water meeting the horizon way beyond shore. “I’ll make us margaritas when we can move?” He suggests.

“Mmmm, that would be amazing.” Emma agrees. She looks around at the gorgeous, Spanish influenced space. Blue and white tiles line the backsplash in the kitchen, highlighted with stainless steel appliances. The open concept shelving shows off gorgeous glass pieces of dish ware that makes Emma glad she packed silicon and plastic for the kids. 

“I love the art in here.” Timo murmurs, adjusting Livy’s elbow out of his abdomen. Then he kisses Logan’s head. Liam flinches in his sleep, so Emma rubs his back to help him stay comfortable. “Would you want a house here ever?” He asks.

“Hm, I think I would rather have a cabin in the Alps.”

“Well, we can buy that with your money.” He jokes then mouths, “Pennies.”

“Oh haha. “ She snorts. “But it’s still enough to leave you. Plus my alimony and I could buy both.”

“Okay.” Timo snorts. “That quickly became not funny.”

“Mhm.” Emma smirks, then kisses Liam’s head again. "Test me again, Meier." She is clearly joke, sticking her tongue out at him. Emma isn't going anywhere. Ever.

They sit there together, loaded down with their babies until one by one they each start to stir awake. Then before they know it, the excitement over the pool and the prospect of swimming takes their children into a second wind. Emma and Timo can’t get them dressed in their swimwear fast enough. 

“Can we go yet!?” Lio moans, already dressed and ready to go. He is a strong swimmer and self-sufficient, so he bounces back and forth between both his parents as they finish up the twins. Livy is happily standing at the door like they asked her to. 

“Lio.” Timo says tiredly, cutting off the bouncing with a final look. Lio goes back to stand by Liv, huffing a sigh. 

“Wanna dive for rings with me?” Lio asks his sister. 

“She can’t, buddy. I will. Just give me two more minutes.” Timo murmurs. 

“Okay.” Lio agrees. 

“I’ll take the twins, you take the older ones.” Emma voices. Timo nods.

Once the twins are placed back on the carpet, the group heads down the hallway to the pool. As they open up the sliding glass doors, Timo can’t help but chuckle, pulling his wife into his side for a moment. He gestures to the babies, pool, and the cover up she’s wearing over her one- piece suit.

“Ibiza looks different.” Timo murmurs against her lips, kissing her with each word. Emma smiles into his smooch, pecking along his chin then up his jaw. She sucks his ear lobe into her mouth for a quick nibble.

“Tonight it will look familiar.” She promises him, then pats his sternum before following their babies to the pool where the twins are trying to dive in without parental supervision.

Later that night, after all four babies have passed out in their separate beds, the crowd and noise from a DJ spinning on a nearby beach floats up to Timo and Emma through their open balcony door. It helps to drown out Emma’s pleading moans as she begs Timo not to stop railing into her from behind. 

No, Ibiza isn’t that different after all.

[hannahssimblr]

Chapter Twenty-One

The days in Cyprus feel nothing like the days at home. They’re missing the structure, the pattern, the routine, and a few days in I lose grasp of where I am in the week. Is it Wednesday? Thursday? The boys study and write for far too much of their time, usually taking up the evenings hunched over their laptops, which I find horrifyingly wasteful, considering the breeze is such a perfect temperature, and the flagstone of the house is warm underfoot in April like some divine miracle of nature. 

I’m doubly horrified to walk in on them both at the kitchen table one morning, laptops and papers covering every inch of the surface. “What the hell?” I say, still half dazed from sleep. “It’s ten, are you setting up to be doing this all day?”

“You’ll understand when you’re in fourth year, Evie,” Shane mumbles. “The exams are looming large.”

“Here’s a concept, enjoy your holidays,” I say, and I shuffle over to Jude to gently squeeze his shoulders. “Bibliography?”

“Bibliography,” He grunts, and that’s all he will say until he can tear his eyes away from it. He’s a terrible multitasker, and gets so absorbed in things that he might as well be on another planet. In fact, I’m surprised he even realises there are other people in the room. 

Claire appears from the laundry room with a clean set of towels and swoops over to the kitchen counter to put them into a large canvas bag, then throws open the fridge to retrieve a jug of fresh orange juice. “Looks like a girl’s day out,” She says with sparkling eyes. “As in, no boys allowed.”

“Oh thank God,” I roll my eyes theatrically, “They’ve been such a drag this entire time, I can’t wait to get away from them,” In fact they’ve been completely lovely, and my joke is wasted on them now because neither of them is even listening. 

Claire and I have a quiet breakfast around the kitchen island while the boys work and the birds chirp happily outside the open door to the patio, and when we’ve cleaned up and gotten ready for the day she goes to kiss her boyfriend goodbye. 

“We’ll probably be all day,” She says to him with a hand that smoothes down his hair, longer and more relaxed looking than it’s ever been. “I have some pretty fun things in mind for us, so I’ll see you much later on,” She smirks at me, “Or maybe not, who knows what we’ll get up to, we might end up out all night.”

“As long as ye behave yourselves,” He mutters.

“Are you jealous?”

“Of your girls day?” He glances up at her with a smirk, “Yeah I’m mad jealous, I can’t get over it. Go on,” he smacks her lightly on the arse, “Get up outta here, give us some peace, the both of ye.”

She studs his whole head with kisses, and I smile to myself watching them. They’re behaving in such a way that would have ordinarily disgusted me, but seeing them like this lately has only made me happy, like a little girl whose parents are getting back together. I lean my hip into Jude so that he can wind his arm around my waist and kiss the side of my ribs. He looks up at me through thick dark lashes, one hand still resting on his keyboard. “Will you miss me?” He says.

“No,” I tease, “I’ve had way too much of you already.”

“Fair enough, I’m mostly good in small doses.”

“Yeah, get me away,” I roll my eyes and act like I’m so tired of him, but the moment that Claire and I are out the front door I feel the weirdest longing in my body, an absence like a phantom limb. We climb into the taxi that we called for, and as we’re reversing out of the driveway I crane my neck in the seat just to catch one last glimpse of him through the kitchen shutters, craning over his work with the morning light in his hair. 

The flea market in Paphos is crowded. As Claire and I walk towards the centre of the heaving mass of bodies we lose ourselves entirely in a cornucopia of wares. There are stalls piled high with linens, pillowcases with delicate embroidery, rugs rolled and stacked against walls, brown clay pottery, little boxes adorned with tiny beads, stalls stuffed with leather goods, hats, scarves, bandanas. Lost in a maze of colour and texture I feel like I’m inside a painting. 

Claire stops and drapes a patterned scarf over her hair, bending down to admire herself in a small mirror. “Grace Kelly,” Says the vendor, and he speaks English, knowing we are tourists just by looking at us, “This is a very beautiful scarf for you.”

“I don’t think I’m like Grace Kelly,” She says, and neatly folds it back onto the table. “I’m just blonde, that’s all.”

“No, you have the same eyes,” he insists, coming around the table to admire her, “Just like Grace Kelly, this scarf is the perfect colour for you.”

“No,” She says again, sounding bored, “I’m a bright summer, this scarf has autumn tones, I don’t want it” and she links her arm with mine and guides me away from him before he can start trying to convince me instead.

“That would have worked on me,” I confess as we move on to the next stall, “I feel like someone could charm their way into my purse by telling me things like that.”

“Don’t say that too loudly,” she snickers as we pass another vendor who starts calling to us, saying we’re English roses. “Irish,” Claire hawks back in her best Tullamore accent, then to me, “I hate that, do you not? When they always think you’re British.”

“They always do, what do you think it is about us?”

“Your sunburn, probably,” she teases, and I stop at a mirror at a clothing stand to examine the rosy blush across the shoulders and chest. “One time when Jude was in Thailand this guy tried to fight him on the street when he thought he was English,” I tell her,  “When He said he was Irish, actually, the guy bought him a beer, what do you think that’s about?”

“Well he’s not really,” She says with a roll of her eyes, “Sounds like he’s just playing the Irish card when it means he won’t get dragged into a fight.”

I laugh, “I don’t know, a lot of the time he seems deeply Irish to me, sometimes I forget he isn’t. Like, all the way, at least, because his accent is so changeable, and the way he phrases things sometimes just really doesn’t feel that American,” The owner of the stall starts approaching with an armful of white linen. “I don’t know what he is. Something in between, it’s really so interesting.”

“You’re so obsessed,” Claire says with a laugh, “I challenge you to go an hour without bringing him up.”

“Everything reminds me of him though,” I huff, and the vendor, without saying a word, holds a dress out in front of my body so I can see how it might look on me, “I swear, I see a seagull eating scraps off the ground and remember a story he told me related to that too, he just bounces around in my head endlessly. Oh this dress is nice, what do you think?”

“Yeah, for sure,” Claire agrees. 

“Genuine linen for a good price,” the vendor starts saying, as though she believes somehow that I might be a tough-sell. What she doesn’t know is that I, for the first time in my adult life, have a bank account with money in it that I’m more than eager to spend. Then she says more things about the weave, and the hand sewn detail, about how I would look good in anything, but I’m really just focussing on the way that the colour, this slightly off white, creamy fabric makes my skin look like soft porcelain rather than it’s usual almost sickly, translucent white, and now these delicate embroidered details across the bodice pick up the green in my eyes. 

“What does it cost?”

“Usually fifty euros, but thirty five for you.”

“Twenty,” Claire pipes up. 

“Okay, thirty,” they both look at me. “Alright,” I say, “Thirty seems fair.”

“You just bought a dress that you didn’t even try on,” Claire points out as we walk away, and I peer down into the striped plastic bag. 

“You’re right,” I say, “But isn’t it beautiful?”

“It is, it’s just not like you, you know, to like, just buy something without thinking about it.”

“I think I like having money in my account that I can do that with, it just feels like, why not?”

“And if it doesn’t fit you?” 

“Well I think there’s freedom in impulsive purchases.”

I like the market. I move from stall to stall and look at everything, the pottery, the rugs, the postcards, the stalls full of vintage items, old records and lamps and pieces of ceramic. I let my hand brush over things, like I’m really thinking about buying it, and sometimes I even entertain the idea, but I don’t, until we arrive at the one with the sweets, heaps and heaps of them, prismatic, primary shades, glittering with sugar, and I buy a bag of peach rings, because I was never allowed to have them as a child. For some reason these were considered expensive, luxury sweets by my mam, and she’d usually direct me towards the ones that the local shop had tied up in little plastic bags with 50p stickers on the side and filled with an assortment of whatever was leftover at the bottom of the tubs once most of them had run out. I eat several of the peach rings but get sick of them because they’re too sweet, and it’s okay, because Jude will eat them for me later. It feels nice to be frivolous. 

There is a woman moving through the crowd in a long skirt and a colourful shawl who is stopping to talk to people as she goes, trying to sell them something, I don’t know. I look at her for ages because her clothes are mesmerising, all rich jewel tones that move around her body like liquid, and layers of glass beads hang around her neck, reflecting cones of coloured light onto her bronzed skin. I want to try and paint that light to see if I could ever capture it. 

Claire pokes a sharp elbow into my ribs. “Stop looking,” she hisses, “She’ll only come over.”

“Who is she?”

“I dunno, some fortune teller or something, it’s a scam.”

“Oh,” I don’t look away fast enough, and she meets my eyes through an opening in the crowd. 

“Oh feck, she’s coming over now,” Claire turns away and pretends to be busy looking at some lace, “C’mere, just turn this way.”

It’s too late. The woman is at my elbow. “Kalimera,” She says in a smoky voice, and I realise with a tiny thrill that she hasn’t realised I don’t speak greek, she doesn’t think I’m a British tourist. I look right at her as she goes on, saying something else that I can’t understand, and when she reaches for my hand and flips my palm skyward I don’t stop her, I don’t really know why.

“I’m sorry,” I say to her, “Um, in English?”

“Ah,” she says, her accent thick, words fractured, “The lines, they talk much. Destiny, life, heart.”

“You want to tell me about my future?”

“For God’s sake, Evie,” Claire grumbles somewhere behind us, “Let’s go, come on.”

But I don’t want to be rude. “You know, I’ve actually had my palm read before, I don’t really think that I need it today.” She doesn’t have to know that I’m talking about Jen, who just looked at my hand and made stuff up, but anyway, she doesn’t seem to understand me. 

“Eh?”

“No thank you,” I say more clearly, “I don’t want it.”

She doesn’t care. “I see destiny line, great success, you work hard, eh?”

“No,” I say awkwardly, and wriggle free of her grip. “We have to go now.”

“Tarot,” She says abruptly. “You know?”

I blink, “Like, as in, tarot cards? Like, death, the lovers, all that?”

“Yes, yes,”

“What about it?” 

Claire groans dramatically and tugs on the strap of my shoulder bag and I ignore her, my interest suddenly piqued. 

“I can show you,” The woman says, “There is another reader, not me, over there,” She gestures vaguely down the street behind her. 

“How much?”

She waves her hand around indecisively, “Maybe ten euros,”

I shrug, “Okay,” and glance over my shoulder at Claire who looks incensed. “Evie! What the hell?”

“I’m curious, “ I shrug, “I think it might be fun.”

“Yes, a fun way to waste your money.”

I sniff, “Well, it is my money, and I can do what I like with it.”

“You’re throwing it away on things like this, it’s all just fake, they just make it all up.”

“Well, maybe it’ll be insightful, I don’t know.”

She throws her hands up in surrender, “Okay, fine.”

I turn back to the fortune teller, “Where do I go?”

“Here,” She says, and begins to weave through the crowd. I follow, and Claire is at my heels, muttering into my ear, “Wherever it is, I’m standing right nearby, and if they try to scam you out of more money I’ll actually go mad on them, I just can’t believe you’re actually going to throw your money away on this, it’s just…”

We end up at a wooden door tucked in between a cafe and a bookshop. There are plants from the balcony overhead hanging low above it, and pots of ferns and climbing mandevilla creeping up the wall intriguing me, beckoning me inside like it’s a secret entrance that has emerged from the wall at this particular hour on this particular day when the sun is at its perfect height to thrust a chink of light through the gap in two buildings upon it, but there’s a sign on the door saying TAROT READINGS €10 which kind of ruins the mysterious allure. 

“Here?” I say to the palm reader, but she’s already gone. Claire sees my stunned face and points towards a produce stall. “She’s there,” She says, “She’s off propositioning someone else, in case you were thinking she’s after vanishing into a puff of smoke or something.”

“No,” I lie. 

“If you want to go in I’ll be right out here.”

“Alright,” I say, and push through the door. 

Beginning // Prev // Next

[toomagazineperfection]

A love at all.

A spoon to ick some salt of high with.

Down your eyes lie to toon with.

Freak of her heights are.

Moons of her heaven ware.

Touches of kiss-loved lints.

Her.

Spoon of kiss dreams of good rights.

A gone rouge love.

A love at all.

Kiss of high patios.

His toon worked till night outs.

Freak yeah. Love him tonight.

Don't need to tell your fame faced anger wash.

Freak of falcons of nights.

Work less sinner.

A Mother of highstress. A freak.

A work to lie.

A love to change.

Every eye yeah.

Kiss hums to doom with.

Why you care.

Her.

Sunidhi

[touchstonepatios]

LANDSCAPING WARE

For all your hard and soft landscaping requirements, call in the expertise of our team at Touchstone Drives Ltd.

Catering to both residential and commercial customers in an extensive area of London, Hertfordshire and Essex including Harrow, Edgware, Borehamwood, Ware, Cheshunt, Watford, Potters Bar, Harlow, Epping, Romford, Brentwood, Hornchurch and all surrounding areas.

We offer a wide range of landscaping services in Ware including:

Garden clearances

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Flower beds

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Conservatories

Driveway & Patio installations

Repairs on all types of paving

Jetwashing outside surfaces

Garden maintenance

Composite Decking

[karaloza]

Legend of Zelda Theme Park - Gerudo Desert (UPDATED)

At the western end of the Dark World is the entrance to a sandstone canyon which meanders a bit and then debouches onto a lively bazaar. Buildings are constructed from off-white masonry contrasting with brilliantly colored fabrics and mosaics. There are numerous planters containing palm trees and cacti to help direct foot traffic as well as providing bench space and extra shade. Near the center of the plaza is a circular fountain featuring a statue of a woman wielding a sword, surrounded by more vegetation. The outside edge of the area is bounded with facades representing sand dunes, among which can be seen landmarks such as the OoT Desert Colossus and BoTW Gerudo Town. From time to time, an animated figure of a Molduga arches from one sand dune to another like a breaching whale.

Attractions

Nabooru’s Training Course: A combination maze and obstacle course—periodically, the winding corridors offer an opportunity to hone your skills as an elite bandit…but if you don’t feel up to tackling the balance beam, overhead bars, crawl net, or other physical challenge, a normal path continues alongside the obstacle. This is just the beginners’ course—from time to time, you can peek through to a more advanced course where Gerudo make trapeze-caliber leaps over jets of fire, dodge flying darts, and disable booby traps (or fail to do so!). At the end of the maze is a playground featuring more things to climb and jump in, just in case you had any excess energy left.

Gerudo Warriors’ Procession: Taking place at scheduled intervals in the bazaar, a squad of the Gerudo tribe’s most impressive warriors parade through the street to a stage where they demonstrate some of their combat skills.

Skipper’s Time-Shifted Boat Tour: Inspired by the Lanayru Sand Sea from Skyward Sword, this dark ride uses projection mapping, augmented reality goggles, and a bit of motion simulation to create the illusion of riding in a boat through a desert that has been transformed into an ancient ocean, but only in a set radius around the craft thanks to the aura of the Timeshift Stone. Fantastic corals appear and disappear, long-decayed ships spring back into operation only to wither again as the boat leaves them behind, the bleached bones of sea monsters turn into living threats until the robot guide manages to outrun them. The queue includes a few interactive “windows” where the push of a button activates a Timeshift Stone to alter a scene—a massive tree reverts to a tiny sapling in a meadow, a crumbled ruin becomes a bustling fortress in its heyday, etc.

Sand-Seal Rally Race: A high-speed ride along a figure-eight racing track, in a seal-drawn “sand sled.” Watch out when you get to the crossing point—don’t crash with another sled!

Shops

5. Silken Palace: Scarves, shawls, capelets, veils, and other free-flowing clothing and accessories made from scrumptiously colored and patterned fabrics…even sarees! Knowledgeable staff can show how to properly put on your purchases if you need help.

6. Hotel Oasis Spa Shop: A health and beauty shop featuring LoZ-inspired makeup palettes, custom-blended perfumes and colognes, bath salts, soaps, scrubs, massage oils, and other products to pamper your skin after a long day in the desert.

7. Starlight Memories: A jewelry boutique specializing in big, showy styles of earrings, bracelets, necklaces, brooches, and even diadems. Many pieces are inspired by the traditional jewelry styles of the Middle East and South Asia.

8. Sand-Seal Adoption Center: The Sand-Seal Rally Race exits through this shop specializing in plush toys of sand seals and other desert creatures both real and fanciful, with an optional “adoption ceremony” for your special new friend.

9. Miscellaneous Merchandise Booths: Small spaces leased out to small business retailers whose wares are in line with the overall “vibe” of the Bazaar.

Eateries

10. Gerudo Bistro: A café with well-shaded patio seating, featuring a menu of Mediterranean and Middle Eastern entrees and appetizers.

11. Arbiter’s Grounds: An Arabian/Persian/Turkish style coffee and tea bar, harking back to the ancient relationship with coffee enjoyed by the cultures that inspired the Gerudo. Brews are available hot, iced, flavored, even blended with ice cream for a perky smoothie. Or head next door…

12. Kara Kara Creamery: Beat the heat with frozen treats! Ice cream, frozen yogurt, sherbet, milkshakes, and smoothies are all available here, made to order. If you’re with a group, try the Seven Heroines Sundae, with seven “orbs” of different flavors reflecting the virtues prized by the Gerudo: skill, spirit, endurance, knowledge, flight, motion, and gentleness.

[thecinderninja]

My Cecilia

On Ao3 as The_Cinderninja It’s almost Windblume Kazuha writes a poem And goes to Mondstadt (KazuVen below the cut)

The streets of Liyue Harbor are alive with the sound of merchants hawking their wares and the aroma of street food wafting through the air. The Traveler and Paimon wander through the market, soaking in the atmosphere. It is a rare day off from their usual adventures, and they are keen to enjoy every moment of it.

"Look at all these stalls! So much food! Will we even have time to try all of it?" Paimon exclaims, her eyes wide with excitement.

The Traveler smiles, nodding absently in agreement, finding Paimon’s enthusiasm endearing. They don’t have it in them to feel anything but relaxed. After the latest stretch of their journey, it is a balm to be back in Liyue. There is no crisis to be managed, no gods or monsters to fight. Just a calm evening with a warm breeze. 

And a long list of friends they want to visit while they’re here.

They are about to point out a nearby food stall to Paimon when a familiar figure catches their eye. Another friend, but not one they were expecting to encounter here. (Though really, they are equally unsurprised to see him). His hair is wispy and loosely framing his face, falling out of its lopsided ponytail, and his eyes half lidded as he seemed to wander the harbour almost aimlessly.

"Kazuha!" the Traveler calls out, waving enthusiastically.

Kazuha turns unhurriedly, a warm smile spreading across his face as he waves at his friends. "Traveler, Paimon! It's good to see you both."

They quickly close the distance between them, and Paimon floats up to Kazuha, her eyes sparkling with curiosity. "What are you doing here, Kazuha? Did you want to come have lunch with us? We were just deciding where to eat!"

"I have no particular plans for today," Kazuha replies, voice soft as ever. "I’d be honoured to join you.”

The three of them can’t help but stop at multiple stalls, amassing a collection of different snacks until both the Traveler and Kazuha’s arms are overflowing, at risk of dropping their meals all over the cobbles before they have a chance to eat any of it.

“Haha… we should probably find somewhere to sit.” The Traveler observes, and only with the warning that they’re going to drop everything soon do they manage to drag Paimon away to find a nice patio to sit at, overlooking the harbour.

They spread their dishes out over the table, splitting everything between themselves.

"It has been a little while, hasn’t it, Kazuha?" the Traveler begins as they pick up their chopsticks, "what have you been up to lately?”

Kazuha makes a noncommittal noise in the back of his throat, looking away over the water as he speaks. "I've been travelling through Inazuma and Liyue, mostly. Observing the changing seasons, it's been... peaceful.”

"Peaceful sounds nice," the Traveler replies, a hint of wistfulness in their voice. "It's been a while since we've had a chance to just sit and relax like this.”

Paimon nods enthusiastically. "Yeah! We've been so busy lately. It's nice to have a break."

The Traveler grimaces. Busy is one way to put it. Burnt out might be another.

"Indeed, peace is a rare treasure,” Kazuha agrees, knowingly. “But it's also given me a lot of time to think. It has definitely been a time of reflection for me. To be perfectly honest, I’ve been feeling a bit… restless.”

The Traveler looks a bit closer. They were so lost in their own thoughts, they failed to notice how distant Kazuha seemed. Of course, it’s normal for him to seem… a bit disconnected, at times. But this isn’t his usual ‘elevated’ self. Rather than introspective, he seems almost lost in his own mind.

"Reflection? Restless?” the Traveler echoes, their interest piqued by whatever has Kazuha so distracted. "About what?"

Kazuha hesitates for a moment, looking almost embarrassed. “Ah... a certain person I met recently. Or rather, met again. This wasn’t my first time crossing their path. In fact, it seems each time we meet, they become harder for me to forget.”

Paimon's eyes widen, absolutely shining as she shrieks; "Ooooh! Kazuha likes someone!? Paimon needs to know everything!”

Kazuha leans back in his chair slightly as the little fairy floats right into his face. He almost expects her to reach out and squeeze his cheeks, but she stops herself just short of that. His expression softens as he fidgets with a leaf, rolling it back and forth between his fingers. “Hm… I seem to keep being drawn to the wild ones.” He muses to himself. “We have almost as many things in common as we do differences, but I think what stands out to me the most is their energy, enthusiasm. A certain shamelessness when it comes to experiencing life to its fullest. There’s an allure to that, for me.”

The Traveler leans in, a glint in their eye, a smirk playing on their face. "Is it me?"

Kazuha looks up, startled, a faint blush creeping up his cheeks. "Ah- no, it's not you. I'm sorry if I gave the wrong impression."

The Traveler laughs gently, waving off his apology. "Relax, Kazuha, I was only teasing you. But go on, tell us more."

Kazuha takes a deep breath, his expression thoughtful. "I'm not sure what to do about it. My lifestyle as a wandering samurai doesn't really suit relationships. At least, not the kind that requires stability and consistency."

The Traveler nods in understanding, their eyes sympathetic. "It's hard, being a traveler. Forming close bonds can be painful. You either miss out on what could be, or you pursue it and eventually have to face the inevitable pain of a separation when paths diverge."

Kazuha meets their gaze, a look of mutual understanding passing between them. "Ah, so you understand."

The Traveler gives a small, knowing smile. "More than you know."

Kazuha sighs softly, his fingers tracing the rim of his teacup. "I also don't know if there's anything to pursue. This person is well-liked, popular, and charming. When we're together, we get along fine, but I can't tell if it's any different from how they treat their other friends."

The Traveler leans in, their eyes shining with curiosity. "Do we know this person?"

Kazuha hesitates, then nods reluctantly. "Yes, you do. It's someone we're both fairly close to."

Paimon gasps dramatically, her eyes widening in surprise. "Who is it? Tell us, tell us!"

Kazuha takes a deep breath, steeling himself for their reaction. "It's... Venti."

The revelation hangs in the air, and for a moment, there is silence as the Traveler and Paimon process the unexpected admission. The Traveler's eyebrows shoot up in surprise, while Paimon's jaw practically hits the floor.

"Tone-deaf bard!?" Paimon screeches, unable to contain her disbelief. "Paimon can’t believe anybody would be crazy enough to like him! No offence Kazuha. But you might be severely overestimating just how much competition you have."

Kazuha winces slightly at Paimon's assessment.

The Traveler quickly intervenes. "Well, everyone has their own tastes, right? And Venti is certainly... special," they say with a gleam in their eye, covering their face with their hand as they try to stifle a laugh.

Paimon, still reeling from the revelation, shakes her head in disbelief. "Well, good luck with that, Kazuha. You're going to need it."

Despite his embarrassment, Kazuha can’t help but smile at her volatile reaction. "I appreciate the vote of confidence, Paimon."

The Traveler, sensing Kazuha's uncertainty, reaches out to place a reassuring hand on his arm. "Hey, don't be embarrassed. You shouldn't let fear hold you back from expressing your feelings. If you like Venti, you should definitely say something."

“Ah, well. That’s exactly what I’ve been thinking about these past few weeks.” Kazuha admits. “I know Venti enjoys my company, but I'm not certain whether he thinks of me as anything more than a friend. I don’t want to ruin the relationship we already have by admitting my feelings if they aren’t reciprocated."

The Traveler nods in understanding, their eyes reflecting empathy. "Confessing one’s feelings can be intimidating, especially when you're not sure how the other person feels. But from what I know of Venti, I can tell you that I don’t think something like this would ruin your friendship either way. Even if he doesn't feel the same, he just isn’t the type to make things awkward.”

“You’re right, of course. And yet, for some reason, I’m still hesitant. He is a dear friend to me, and I would not want to lose that. I am content with my current situation. If the opportunity arises in the future, I may take the chance to express my true feelings to him. But for now, I am fine with simply being friends."

"Kazuha," the Traveler begins, their voice gentle, "Are you really alright with this?"

Kazuha's serene expression falters for a moment as he sighs. He takes a deep breath, his gaze distant as he gathers his thoughts. "It can be very difficult to suppress my true feelings when he is so near, I would be lying if I said otherwise. But I try to remind myself of the importance of our friendship and how much it means to me. And in the end, that makes it easier to set aside my desires and accept the situation as it is. It can be hard sometimes, but it is something I have made my peace with."

This isn’t his first friendship where he’s wanted something more but remained silent on the matter. He can live with that, he reassures himself. He has lived with it before.

The Traveler's eyes soften. "I... Kazuha... “ They trail off before reaching across the table to take his hand. “What if you hold onto your true feelings for so long, and he has no idea... and someone else confesses to him first? Would you still be able to maintain your friendship with him, as it is now, if he were to enter a relationship with someone else?"

Kazuha’s breath catches, and he closes his eyes as he ponders his answer. "Ah... this is a difficult question... it would indeed be quite painful to see someone else with Venti. And no matter how much I wish to keep our friendship the way it is, it would likely change. But... Even so, if Venti found happiness with someone else, I would want to support him as best I can, even if it hurts me to see it. So long as he is happy, I can bear the pain."

The Traveler looks at Kazuha with openly long-suffering concern, and huff out a dramatic breath. "That is very... noble of you. But it seems completely unnecessary. You shouldn't hold onto your emotions so tightly."

Kazuha offers a small, wistful smile. "Perhaps you're right. But, for now, I am content to let things be. If fate is kind to me and the right opportunity presents itself, I will confess my true feelings to him. But... if a time should come when that moment has passed or he has found happiness with someone else, I will accept that, too.”

A thoughtful silence falls between them, punctuated only by sounds of them eating and the distant murmur of the market outside. 

Paimon, who has been unusually quiet, suddenly perks up with a spark of an idea. "What about Windblume?"

Kazuha tilts his head slightly, curiosity piqued. "Ah, Windblume... It's actually coming up quite soon, isn't it?"

The Traveler’s face brightens in sudden understanding, a smile tugging at their lips. "Yes... and Venti is from Mondstadt. You know, Windblume is a Mondstadt festival where people write poems and give flowers to those they love...."

“Ah, ah… I don’t know if I could be so obvious. Although… Windblume... a time for expressing one's feelings through poetry and flowers." He pauses, considering the possibilities. "It does seem fitting, doesn't it?"

Paimon nods enthusiastically, her excitement palpable. "Yes! It's the perfect opportunity, Kazuha! You could write a poem and give him a flower!"

The Traveler smiles encouragingly. "Windblume is a time for all kinds of love, not just romantic. People give gifts to their friends, family, anyone who is dear to them. So this could be the perfect way for you to express your feelings without having to say everything outright. And knowing Venti, he'd appreciate the poetry. Oh!” Their eyes light up again, an idea coming together. They lean forward conspiratorially. “You’re a poet, he’s a bard. Wordsmiths! Write a poem of your true feelings, but written subtly enough that if he doesn’t reciprocate them, he can choose to read it as a poem of your close friendship. If he does reciprocate, he will be able to read the meaning between the words.”

Kazuha pauses, his expression shifting at the idea. His eyebrows furrow and a small smile tugs at the edges of his lips. “Quite ingenious…” he admits, nodding slowly. “A poem which makes my heart clear to him, but will allow him to preserve my dignity in tact, if needed.” 

“I was heading to Mondstadt soon myself, actually. I wanted to be back in time for Windblume as well. Maybe we can travel together?”

The smile that greets them is wide and genuine. “Ah, really? In that case, I would love nothing more.”

.

The Alcor sails steadily through the azure waves, the wind filling its sails and carrying it smoothly towards Mondstadt. Amidst the organized chaos above deck, Kazuha sits quietly near the bow, a composition book balanced on his knee, his pen moving swiftly across the page. His brow furrows in concentration.

The Traveler steps out onto the deck, scanning the area for their friend. Spotting Beidou instead, they approach her with a friendly wave. "Hey, Captain Beidou! Have you seen Kazuha?"

Beidou grins, jerking her thumb towards the bow of the ship. "He's right over there, scribbling away. I've never seen him so focused on his writing before. The look of intensity on his face isn't like him. Normally, he lets the words come naturally, but he's really hung up on whatever he's writing."

The Traveler chuckles softly. "He's writing a poem for someone special for Windblume."

Beidou's eyebrows rise in surprise before her expression softens with amusement and genuine pleasure. "Ah, I see. It's about time. He's been on his own for far too long."

Nodding, the Traveler makes their way over to where Kazuha sits. As they approach, they can see the gentle tension in his posture, his eyes focused intently on the lines he’s crafting. They settle down beside him quietly, not wanting to break his concentration immediately.

"Kazuha," the Traveler says softly, "how's the poem coming along?"

Kazuha glances up, a small smile curving his lips. "Ah, this? It is certainly… coming along. Though I'm not sure if it's as subtle as I intended it to be. Would you... mind reading it and giving me your thoughts?"

The Traveler leans in, eager to help. "I wouldn't mind at all! What have you written so far?"

Kazuha hesitates for a moment before nodding. "Hm. Well, I have the first few lines..." He recites them, his voice soft and lyrical; Springtime comes, the sky grows blue, And flowers of white Greet the coming breeze. It is in this time of beauty That my thoughts are of you.

Kazuha grimaces as he finishes, clearly unhappy with his work. He waits to voice his concerns though, looking to the Traveler to hear their feedback.

The Traveler takes a moment to consider the lines, their expression thoughtful. "I think that's a very good opening verse. It makes me think of Mondstadt. The clear skies, the cecilias, the gentle breezes... you make it all sound very beautiful.”

A flicker of relief passes over Kazuha's face. "Ah, thank you. I'm glad you think it works.” He pauses, glancing down at the page again. "Even so... it feels as though there are too many words. It feels cluttered and messy. I definitely need to work on it further."

The Traveler looks a bit confused. “Oh… really? But the words are all so beautiful, does it really need to be changed?”

Kazuha looks unsure now, gazing down at the ink on the page. “... If you say too much, the meaning can become lost.” He murmurs.

The Traveler nods as if they understand, but their expression says they are unsure. Even so, they take his word for it. He is the poet, after all, and this is his poem. "Is that all you’ve written so far?"

Kazuha shakes his head, looking slightly more troubled. "No, I've written a bit more... there's a second verse, though I'm not too happy with it either..." The wind shifts slightly, rustling the pages of Kazuha's composition book, and he places a steadying hand on it. Clearing his throat, he recites the unfinished second verse;

On days such as these A smile adorns your face A balm to my soulThe memory...

He trails off, his frustration palpable. "I'm not sure how to finish it when I'm so unhappy with what's already on the page." He admits.

The Traveler smiles reassuringly. "I like it. The first few lines are wonderful. You're saying that you cherish the memory of his smiles, right? And how they make you feel?"

Kazuha nods, his eyes softening. "Yes, that's exactly what I'm saying. They remind me of the joy that Venti brings along with him wherever he goes. His smile is like the sunlight, bringing warmth to those who see it. But still, I'm not sure how to convey that properly. I'm at a loss for adequate words. This verse will take the most revision."

He sighs, his gaze drifting towards the horizon. "We'll be in Mondstadt soon, and I feel the pressure to finish it on time."

The Traveler places a comforting hand on his shoulder. "We'll be arriving a few days before Windblume, and the festival itself lasts a little over a week, so you have plenty of time. You're probably struggling because you're putting so much pressure on yourself. You normally let your poetry come naturally, don't you? So you should stop trying to force it."

Kazuha sighs again, nodding. "You're right. Perhaps I should leave this verse for now and revisit it later when I'm a little more 'inspired.' And as for the last part, I'm... afraid it might be a little too straightforward..."

"Ah... well, it's been subtle so far. That is... your love for him has been obvious in each line, but it hasn't been overtly romantic, I don’t think. Then again, Mondstadt is a very romantic city, so… I’ve seen friends share far more romantic poems than this. The line there is a bit thinner between the two. But let's hear this final verse that you seem worried about."

Kazuha takes a deep breath, his eyes flickering over the page as he rereads what he has written there, turning it over in his mind even as he speaks to the Traveler. "Ah, well... if you insist. This is the verse I am most concerned about..."

He recites the final verse with a soft, uncertain tone;

The soft breeze whispering your nameA soothing remembranceAs the wind carries you awayLeaving only memories behind.

The Traveler considers the words carefully. "Hmm... what exactly was this verse meant to convey?"

Kazuha's gaze drops to the deck. "Ah, well... I suppose it was meant to convey a sense of longing. You see, ever since I first met Venti, I've always felt this profound sense of yearning. It's as if whenever I'm around him, I can hear…” He hesitates, and looks at the Traveler. “The wind carries desires, you know? Prayers, poems, songs, hopes. It is always the strongest around him, though. Almost unbearably so."

He pauses, his voice softening even further. "But this feeling of longing is a bittersweet one, for it is followed by the heartbreaking realization that not all desires can be fulfilled. He is a very cheerful person, but carries with him a certain melancholy. I find I feel the same when I am with him. Being near him makes me happy, but I also know I cannot have him. I don't think anyone can."

The Traveler is taken aback by Kazuha's words and insights. "Why do you say that?”

Kazuha shrugs, a wistful smile playing on his lips. "It's true of all Anemo holders, really. We cannot ever be satisfied, settled or claimed. Always striving. I've loved before, and I had to let that love go. I can't imagine it would be any different with Venti. If I try to hold on too tightly, I'll lose him. I'm a wanderer; I can't stay in Mondstadt for long. And I don't know what Venti strives for, but I assume it's more than the life of a wandering samurai."

The Traveler seems genuinely uncertain. "I... also don't know what really motivates Venti, or what exactly he's striving for. I can't make any promises to you about another person's heart. But... I do believe that something can still exist between two wanderers, even if their paths rarely converge."

Kazuha smiles at that, a light returning to his eyes. "Yes, time and distance make the heart grow fonder, after all, and each meeting feels more precious than the last."

The two of them fall into a contemplative silence, wondering just how this will work out. Thankfully, neither is too overwrought. The Traveler knows that even if Venti’s feelings are too elusive (and they do suspect this might be the case), he would never be anything but kind to Kazuha about it. Likewise, they know that Kazuha is entirely capable of taking a rejection graciously. 

Kazuha seems to understand this as well, since most of his anxieties about ‘ruining their existing friendship’ have faded as the ship grows closer to Mond.

"As such a talented bard and poet himself, I'm certain that Venti will understand the intentions of this poem. I'm equally certain that he will be able to tactfully misinterpret it if your feelings aren't returned." The Traveler finally speaks.

Kazuha nods slowly, a weight seeming to lift from his shoulders. "That is exactly my hope. If Venti happens to not reciprocate my feelings, I hope that he will be able to read this as a poem of friendship rather than one of unrequited love. But... if the opposite should be true... and his feelings match mine... then I hope that this poem will convey the extent of my yearning for him. I hope that he will understand how dearly I want to be with him."

The Traveler offers a warm smile. "I think the poem is perfect."

Kazuha laughs softly, shaking his head. "Far from it. But thank you, my friend.”

The Traveler watches as Kazuha turns his gaze back to his poem, the lines of worry on his face easing slightly as he taps his brush against the corner of the page, leaving messy ink smudges as he contemplates the words written there. After a moment of contemplative silence, the Traveler asks, "Do you know what kind of flower you're going to give him to go with it?"

Kazuha pauses, then looks up, his expression thoughtful. "I was thinking of giving him white lilies - or, in Mondstadt, white cecilias. I have heard that they symbolize 'the true feelings of the prodigal son'... I can think of nothing more fitting for the poem I have written."

The Traveler's face brightens with recognition. "Oh, I think those are his favourite flowers!"

Kazuha's eyes widen slightly in surprise, though his expression immediately shifts to intense interest as he starts making a note in the margin of his notebook. "That's even better, then! I admit, I am... incredibly nervous... to give this to him. I've never had to express my feelings before. Not like this. This poem and this lily will be an important and meaningful gift for him no matter what the outcome is. But... I can't help but hope that he might actually return my feelings..."

The Traveler places a reassuring hand on Kazuha's shoulder. "I hope so as well. Honestly, you deserve this. I hope it all works out just right. But even if it doesn't, I'm sure he'll still appreciate the poem."

Kazuha sighs, his expression softening with gratitude. "Ah... thank you. With so much riding on this, it is comforting to know that you have faith in me. I shall do my best to convey my feelings to him. And no matter the outcome, I will not regret my decision."

"Good luck, Kazuha. I hope it goes well... and I'm glad you'll have no regrets, either way."

Kazuha nods, the corners of his mouth lifting in a small but genuine smile. "I think I can see Mondstadt in the distance now. It looks like we'll be arriving soon."

The Traveler turns to look out over the horizon, and indeed, the spires and windmills of Mondstadt come into view, green fields bathed in golden light.. "Ahh, you're right! We should arrive at Dornman Port in no time at all.”

As the Alcor approaches the port, dockworkers and sailors move about with practiced efficiency, and the scent of saltwater mingles with the faint aroma of blooming flowers carried on the wind. Kazuha and the Traveler gather their belongings from below deck and make their way to the gangplank.

When the Traveler reappears with their belongings, Paimon has also emerged from wherever it is she disappears to. Her and the Traveler are chatting animatedly as they make their way back up the stairs to join Kazuha where he waits to disembark.

Before they part ways, the Traveler gives Kazuha one last encouraging smile. 

“Paimon thinks you could do better.” Paimon announces, confidently. With a stern look from the Traveler, she quickly adds; “But um, good luck Kazuha!” She gives him two thumbs ups, not making any attempt to hide her dubious expression.

Kazuha bows slightly, his expression sincere. "Thank you. Your support means a lot to me. Until we meet again, my friends."

The Traveler and their companion watch as Kazuha strides confidently towards the path leading to the city, the sunlight casting a warm glow on his form.

“... Do you really think this is going to work out for him?” Paimon asks.

The Traveler laughs, warm and bright, and shrugs. “With Venti, I honestly have no idea.” They admit. “But getting these feelings off his chest will be good for Kazuha, either way. And Venti’s not going to hurt him, so… it should be fine.”

.

As Kazuha steps through Mondstadt's gates, the city welcomes him with open arms. He has been here a few times before, but never during Windblume. He's surprised to see just how thoroughly decorated it is. The festival doesn’t officially begin for a few more days, but the entire city is completely covered in flowers. Coloured paper streamers and paper flowers adorn the city alongside the real ones. The air is fragrant, and with the loose petals carried on the wind, it feels like stepping into a dream.

Kazuha takes in the atmosphere around him, drinking in the scene with his senses. The city of Mondstadt truly is the epitome of beauty during Windblume. The sound of music fills the air, mingling with the scent of flowers and sweet treats. He cannot help but smile at the sight of the city in full bloom.

Feeling the gentle caress of the wind on his hair, Kazuha experiences a soothing sensation. The wind makes his heart race and his steps lighter. The wind has always been different in Mondstadt—warmer, gentler, protective. He understands why the people have so much faith in the presence of their Archon, despite his apparent absence. Anyone with basic senses can feel just how kind and watchful the wind of Mondstadt is. Kazuha feels his body relax and his mind unwind, as if all tension and worry have evaporated.

Mondstadt is very, very different from Inazuma. It is the city of freedom, and everyone seems so happy.

.

As he wanders, he finds himself drawn to the statue of Barbatos in the centre of town, where he finds Venti sitting on the base of the statue, playing the lyre and singing with his eyes closed. A small crowd is standing around, listening to him play.

Oh... oh my goodness...

Kazuha freezes like a deer in the headlights, his heart skipping a beat, as he sees Venti here in the centre of Mondstadt playing and singing his little heart out. The melody he is performing is whimsical, fingers darting over lyrestrings to pluck out the rapid and uplifting tune. The gentle breeze carries his enchanting voice to Kazuha's ears. It is a moment of pure, unadulterated beauty. Kazuha can feel his heart fluttering in his chest, and he can do nothing but watch the bard, utterly smitten.

Kazuha can't seem to keep track of his thoughts while the bard plays. Whatever Venti is playing, it has a deeply calming effect. The listeners seem almost entranced, eyes closed and smiling softly.

If stepping into Mondstadt felt like a dream, then he isn't sure what words to use for this. He wonders if the rest of the crowd feels it, feels the magic of this moment. Kazuha feels himself becoming more entranced the longer he listens. He can't seem to take his eyes off the bard, who is the pure essence of innocent joy at the moment. The smile on his face, the breeze playing with his hair, the petals of flowers drifting through the air, the laughter in his voice as he sings.

The song ends, and the spell passes. With a little laugh, Venti switches songs into something a little more playful. A lighthearted something you could hear any bard playing. Charming. The spell of Venti's song is broken. It was the type of thing that cannot exist in reality, and Kazuha is waking up from a dream. The melody that Venti just played was pure poetry. Kazuha feels his heart warm.

Venti notices Kazuha in the crowd as he pushes closer to listen, and his face lights up with a smile of recognition. He stops playing for long enough to give a little wave - though he doesn't stop singing - before placing his hands back on his lyre.

Oh dear...

Kazuha's heart leaps into his throat as Venti notices him. His heart flutters as he waves back, smiling brightly. The urge to push even closer toward the bard intensifies, and it is all he can do to hold himself back from doing so. The song he is weaving with his lyre and his voice is a sweet one, but Kazuha can't bear to take his eyes off of him...

Once the song ends, Venti puts his lyre away, apparently finished performing, much to the disappointment of the crowd. He takes a cheerful little bow, and accepts his tips - be they Mora, food, or alcohol- before the crowd disperses. A few linger, but most of the folks wander off.

Once most of the attention has left him and his performance, he turns to Kazuha with a smile. “Kazuha! Hello! I wasn't expecting to see you in Mondstadt! Did you come all the way here just for Windblume?”

Kazuha can't help but blush at Venti's cheerful greeting. The bard's energy is infectious and his mere presence is like a bright ray of sunshine. “Ah.... yes, I did indeed come for Windblume. I thought that this would be the perfect opportunity for me to express my feelings.”

“Express your feelings? Oh~ You make it sound like you have someone special in Mondstadt you came all this way just to see?” The bard tips forward, curiosity burning in his eyes. He is a bard, after all. Always hungry for gossip, especially that of the romantic variety.

“... Well... yes. I would be lying if I said otherwise. I suppose you could say I have a very special someone here, one for whom I've travelled quite a way to meet.”

Venti seems excited by the idea, excited for Kazuha, and totally enthusiastic about it.

“How romantic!” He sighs dramatically, clutching his hands to his chest. “Ah- unless it isn't romantic? But still, even if you came all this way just to see a friend, they must be very dear to you indeed!”

Kazuha smiles a secretive smile to himself, amused by the direction their conversation has taken. “Ah, yes. They are certainly very dear to me. Though, I’m not sure if they realize this.” He adds, amusement growing.

“Ahhh, so they really have no idea how you feel? Surely they must have some clue?” Venti urges, truly having no idea just how clueless he is at the moment.

“They haven't a clue, I can assure you.” Kazuha makes level eye contact with the bard, struggling to remain serious at the sheer, clueless authenticity in Venti’s expression. “I've been hiding my feelings from them for quite some time now. And, well, to be quite honest, I don't know if they'd return my feelings, so I'm quite nervous…”

“Oho, so it is romantic!” Venti guesses, throwing an arm around Kazuha's shoulders and grinning at him reassuringly. “Don't be nervous! You're so sweet, Kazuha, I can't imagine this person not feeling the same! But even if your feelings aren't returned, you said they were a dear friend, right? Surely that won't change. Even if they don't feel the same, I doubt they'll stop caring for you altogether. And I'll be here for you, too!”

Oh, Venti, you sweet fool...

Kazuha cannot help but laugh at the bard's encouragement, finding his earnestness to be utterly endearing.

“... Thank you, Venti. You really are a great friend. I'm quite grateful for you.”

“Awww.” Venti blushes slightly, apparently totally endeared at the moniker of 'great friend'. “So.... will you tell me who it is? Or will I just have to wait and find out with everyone else, hehe…”

Kazuha pauses, his face turning a little red. As funny and endearing as this is, he isn’t entirely prepared to just jump in like this. Windblume hasn’t even begun yet, and he still hasn’t finished his poem, or found a suitable cecilia!

“... I'm sorry but I- ah, you see, I…” The wanderer trails off a bit awkwardly as he tries to find the right words to answer Venti's question. He seems hesitant to speak the truth.

Venti only laughs again, smile never wavering as he slaps his hand against Kazuha’s back. “I see, no spoilers for your favourite bard, no matter how sweetly I ask? Ehe.”

“That’s right.” Kazuha nods quickly. “I haven’t even finished my poem yet.”

“Oh~ a poem?” Venti’s eyes gleam. “You really are embracing the Windblume spirit! Maybe I could help?”

Kazuha pauses, considering his words, before allowing a slow smile to overtake his face. “Ah… not a bad idea. But let me finish my first draft, at least, before sharing it.”

.

As Windblume draws to a close, Mondstadt remains a whirlwind colour. Kazuha has spent much of the festival with Venti, but he has also taken time to explore Mondstadt and spend moments with the Traveler. Everyone seems somehow busier than usual and yet also overflowing with free time. Perhaps it is that everyone has so much free time that they must spend every inch of it with their friends.

It's a beautiful time.

With evening rapidly approaching on the final day of Windblume, Kazuha decides there's no time like the present. He isn't going to let fear command him. He's faced worse opponents than a charming bard and came out victorious. 

He tells Venti that he's finally finished his poem.

Venti's eyes light up with delight and he takes the scroll from Kazuha, looking up at his friend with an inquisitive smile before looking back down to read it. He nods along, smiling broadly as he looks at the words on the page. By the end, his smile has softened. His hands shake slightly as he finishes, handing the poem back to Kazuha.

"Ooohh... That's beautiful." His expression is genuine delight. "Whoever you wrote this for is a very lucky person, indeed!"

Kazuha nods, not taking the poem back. He leaves Venti’s hand awkwardly outstretched. “Ahh,” Kazuha chuckles nervously. "I'm glad you like it... I suppose it means that you think the object of this poem will be very happy to receive it then?"

"They would be a fool not to be... It's very obvious how much you love this person. You really poured your heart into this, didn't you?"

Kazuha blushes deeply, realizing the truth of Venti's words. He did indeed put his heart into this poem. "Yes, I certainly tried to.”

Venti's smile this time is not as overt or rambunctious as his usual smiles. It is a soft and wistful thing, but no less genuine. "I hope that the recipient of this poetry cherishes you as much as you cherish them. You deserve nothing less."

A warm feeling rushes through Kazuha at Venti's words, his heart overflowing. The bard's expression and his words make it quite clear that he truly has no idea just how fondly Kazuha feels for him. Yet the bard still speaks so lovingly, which almost makes Kazuha's feelings grow even stronger than before.

"Thank you, Venti. Those kind words mean more to me than you know."

Venti is clearly a bit wistful by the idea of Kazuha confessing his love to some other person, but even so, he doesn't say a word of anything but support and encouragement. He is still holding the scroll out to Kazuha, growing slightly confused as to why he hasn't taken it back yet.

Kazuha decides it's finally time to take pity on the poor, oblivious bard. He reaches out, not to take the poem back, but to lay his hand over top of Venti’s, pushing it back down to his side. "No, Venti. I don't need it back."

"Eh? But then how are you supposed to deliver it?"

That innocent head tilt.

Kazuha is more than a little embarrassed as he explains himself. "Ah, you see... this poem... it's not intended for someone else. It has already found its way to its recipient."

Venti stares at Kazuha blankly for a moment, as the gears in his head turn, trying to process that bit of information. "F-for... me?"

"Yes, for you." Kazuha pauses for a moment, the moment. His original plan thrown out the window in one impulsive heartbeat as he decides to say the words out loud; "I seem to have fallen for you, bard."

"Eh.... I... ah—" Venti, at a complete loss for words, unrolls the poem and begins reading it again, eyes darting over the page, taking in their meanings anew with the realization that these words were penned for him.

Kazuha watches as Venti reads the poem a second time, a third time, eyes darting up and down the page. His expression shifting and twisting. Confusion, delight.

Venti's eyes dart back up from the poem to land on Kazuha again. 

They stare at each other in silence.

The bard throws himself at Kazuha, dragging the poet into a tight hug that knocks them both to the ground.

Kazuha is initially taken by surprise by Venti's sudden reaction, but a moment later, his arms wrap around the bard as he warmly embraces him in return.

"And I—I said it was so romantic!" Venti laughs brightly into Kazuha's shoulder, still having a hard time believing Kazuha meant all of those words about him.

Kazuha nods, lips quirking in amusement as he pats the bard on the back. "Very romantic, yes..."

"O-oh..." Venti lets out a giddy giggle in a single sharp burst. "And I said anyone would be a fool not to return your affections." He realizes, giggling helplessly.

"You did say that, yes." He smirks affectionately as he sits up slowly, arms still wrapped around the giggling bard. He leans forward, tucking his cecilia into Venti's hair.

Venti’s eyes open wide, shining, reaching up to touch it. His grin is splitting his face, even as he doubles over in laughter again.

Despite his reaction, it somehow goes without saying that he isn’t laughing at Kazuha.

He’s simply giddy. He isn’t processing what’s happening. He’s wiping tears from his eyes - tears of laughter. “This is happening?” He asks, before pressing the back of his hand to his mouth. His cheeks are dusted pink. "I could kiss you right now…"

Kazuha can see the moment Venti realizes what he said, his eyes widening even further as Kazuha laughs out a soft exhale. "You could..."

Venti's eyes widen with excitement, and before Kazuha can brace himself, the bard throws himself at him with such force that they tumble to the ground in a heap again. They land in the soft grass, petals scattering around them as Venti tries to regain his composure, a mischievous grin spreading across his face.

He attempts to kneel above Kazuha, bracing his hands in the grass on either side of his head. He leans in slowly, but his balance betrays him. He wobbles precariously before falling forward, landing directly on top of Kazuha with an oof.

"Oh—" Venti giggles, his cheeks flushing hot with embarrassment. "Sorry, sorry!"

Kazuha can't help but laugh as well, the sound bubbling up from his chest. "It's fine, it's fine!" After Venti’s failed kiss, he tries to sit up and give one of his own; but the bard is laughing too hard to reciprocate properly, their noses bumping awkwardly.

Venti tries to steady himself again, his face hovering close to Kazuha's, but another burst of laughter from both of them breaks the moment. Instead, Venti settles for planting a dramatic, exaggerated kiss on Kazuha's cheek. "Mwah! There! That's for you," he declares triumphantly, eyes twinkling.

Kazuha shakes his head, his chest still shaking with laughter. "You are impossible," he manages to say through the laughter, his heart light and happy.

"Impossibly charming, you mean," Venti retorts, smirking.

They sit there, out of breath from laughing, hair and clothing tousled, probably looking like they got up to far more than they actually did. Kazuha doesn’t find himself feeling particularly embarrassed by that thought. He sighs contentedly, looking up at the sky. 

Somehow, the world felt even more vibrant than usual. The sky was painted in vivid colours, the air smelled of flowers, cider, apple blossoms, the merriment of an entire nation, and the wind was singing.

"We should probably get back," he murmurs softly. "The closing ceremony is soon. I've never seen it before. The Traveler told me a bit about it on the way over."

Venti's eyes light up. "Ah, they told you about that, then? The Windblume Star… It's quite the spectacle," he sighs, finally managing to push himself up and offer a hand to Kazuha. "You definitely don't want to miss it."

Kazuha takes Venti's hand, and the bard pulls him up with surprising strength. They start walking back towards the city, the festival still in full swing around them. Just as Mondstadt seemed to already be celebrating days before the festival officially began, he strongly suspects they will still be partying for some time after it officially comes to a close. The atmosphere is one of pure, unfiltered joy.

He’s never seen anything quite like it.

It’s a far cry from the serenity of Lantern Rite, and an even further cry from the tentative, wary peace of the Irodori Festival.

No one parties quite like Mond.

As they approach the bridge leading back into Mondstadt, "I wonder who the 'Windblume Star' will be this year," he muses aloud.

Venti's grin widens. “Oho, well, I can safely say you’re my Windblume Star this year.” He tuts, taking the cecilia out of his hair in order to twirl it in his fingers, smiling down at it.

Kazuha laughs softly, shaking his head. "You certainly know just what to say, don't you?"

Venti winks. "It's a gift," he replies, looping an arm through Kazuha's as they continue their walk. .

My Cecilia White flowers in the springtime Remind me of you On days such as these A smile adorns your face I cherish the sight Fleeting memories Your name whispered in the wind As the seasons change

[dragonstailbutch]

hello how do I start smithing without a forge 😭 i need to live by the blade so bad

thats a wonderful question!

it definitely seems difficult, and in some way it can be, oof. ts easiest if you already have a possible space, like a shed or barn or some kind of patio. the thing about starting on your own is you need to be extra super careful to, yknow, not burn the world to the ground XD

there are a few things you can do before considering making a forge at home, makerspaces have gotten popular and they tend to either have or would love to have a forge setup if people expressed interest in that, and were willing to work with and towards that happening. if you ask around local colleges or universities, you can see if theres a class offered or possibly a teacher you can take a quick basics class under, that would generally come with a forge or workshop attached lol

if theres neither of these options or you would really prefer to start on your own, theres a ton of videos online like youtube, or you can look for resources from the Artists-Blacksmith Association of North America or whatever equivalent your country or area has. there are def things you can make if you have or know someone who has access to a welder, like a rocket stove, that can start you off at least a little bit. i advise getting a ball peen hammer from some hard ware store and you can also search farm autcions or go antiquing to find a used forge/tools. you dont need a ton for an anvil, some people like ne just have a piece of railroad track till we can get a acuta anvil.bits generally easier (freakin obvs) if you have a little money to spend on getting equipment somewhere and if you have a backyard or shed. living in suburban areas like a apartment or just generally renting makes running your own forge a bit hard without having to worry about your local HOA or neighbors complaints and im still trying to figure that out for myself lol

[archetypal-archivist]

A Kinder World AU- Part 12

Felps’ House

masterlist

Felps is Cellbit's old roommate from before the duo moved to Quesadilla town and he serves as the town's grocer and owner of the general store. His wares are eccentric and the owner even more so, but the residents trust him to provide quality goods like fruits, veggies, spare rope and tackle, screws, bolts, tools, clothing, and much, much more. The store is built into the lower part of his house in the Favela, although he can't always be found there- he goes "missing" every few weeks to travel to the mainland to stock up on more goods. Now if only he would notify people before he left...

1) Felps and Cellbit lived together in the big city, splitting rent handily with Felps working as a shopkeep and Cellbit as a muckraker reporter, taking inspiration from "The Jungle" and investigating the local meat industry to turn out articles on his findings. One day Cellbit saw something he shouldn't have and came home gravely injured, babbling about a mysterious group coming back to finish the job. At this, Felps took umbrage and grabbed his friend, their combined savings, and all the determination he could muster to flee to Quesadilla to start a new life. Things went poorly almost immediately and it's only after several new friends, a kid, a freak storm, and a lot of repression, that Felps can now say that he loves his home in the Favela and his place as the tentative "leader" of the Favela Five. Their game nights are epic, truly, and the beer is even better, especially when they all gather on Felps' rooftop patio to sing, drink, and relax under the stars. It's almost enough to make a man forget his trauma and at this point, that's the only thing that could make Felps happier than he already is.

2) The shop built into Felps' house is painted the traditional white of public buildings in Quesadilla, although he hates the color. As if in protest, the inside is a riot of goods and materials, all piled up in great leaning towers and covered rainbow-hued stickers labeling the price of each item. Richarlyson is in love with Felps' label maker and he's all too happy to hand over the tool to let his borrowed kid have fun for an afternoon. Anything that is marked incorrectly, he just hands to Bobby and Ramon with a sharpie and tells them to scribble until to their heart's content. Felps being generally a quiet soul, he's popular with the eggs that prefer a gentle touch, as well as those who like getting away with what they shouldn't. As such, he's surprisingly popular with some of the Quesadilla kids, enough so that when he disappears to the mainland of his large motorboat to bring back more goods to sell, they all cry kidnapping and search the island to find him. The first time this happened, most of the adults were greatly spooked- Cellbit especially- but by now it's old hat and the only ones who remain nervous are the rest of the Favela crew.

3) The main body of Felps' house consists of his kitchen on the upper floor, the living room on the lowest, and an eclectic mix of bathrooms, storage, closets, and stairways to fill in the rest. His bedroom, rather than fitting into the main tower, is instead shoved into the narrow space beneath his rooftop patio, with just enough ceiling clearance to avoid bumping his head in the mornings and that's it. The furnishings are odd as well, mostly consisting of a mix of second hand stuff he bought on the mainland, stuff from his old apartment, and whatever spares Fit had lying around after the Favela was wrecked the first time around. From art deco to fake Greco-Roman to 80s bowling alley lounge, every room in his house is.... A vibe. Sort of. Perhaps a vibe akin to mixing Gatorade, vodka, and liquid THC together. As one might imagine, the only one who ever goes inside Felps' house for any length of time is Felps.

4) Felps' life is much like his house- utter insanity and he loves every bit of it. He's used to Cellbit's antics- odd calls over HAM radio, sudden bouts of paranoia and hyperactivity followed by a post-coffee crash, and a lot of dark humor jokes about cults and cannibalism. However, Forever's cryptid hunting, Mike and Pac's inventions and subsequent explosions, and Richarlyson as a person who exists? It's all new and exciting! Breakfast on Felps' rooftop patio is a staple in the Favela and he makes excellent pancakes for anyone and everyone who stops by. He uses the time to catch up on everything that he might have missed the previous day and fills his friends in on the news he's heard on the mainland. Given Quesadilla's distance from the rest of the world's drama, whatever info Felps can scrape together is valuable and the Favela Five all love to gossip, trading the info to other townspeople for things like parking places and baked goods. Indeed, being the keeper of the gossip makes Felps' life all the more lively and he wouldn't have it any other way.

5) Much like Fit and Philza, Felps has PTSD as well as his own bouts of paranoia and anxiety. Watching Cellbit bleed all over his lap, and then later having to watch his close friend relearn to walk under Rubius' careful administrations was awful and he never, ever wants to see his friend in pain again. Seeing such things in his nightmares is more than enough, thanks, but the only thing worse to Felps is burdening Cellbit with his worries further. On nights when he can't convince himself that the men who injured Cellbit are long gone and won't ever find them, he goes to the beach by his friend's house to sleep in the sand. Something about the waves washes his worry away- the sea is so big and terrifying and whatever lurks in it even more so, his mundane, human fears pale in comparison. It might not be therapy, or entirely healthy, but it works and to Felps' mind, that's enough.

[colorsunimaginable]

the spare // chapter fifty-seven // death eater ! tom hiddleston oc x plus size ofc - voldemort wins au

story summary: 

While on a mission to avenge the death of her best friend, Ilvermorny graduate Melisa Alder finds herself in the middle of the fight to defeat Voldemort. Upon capture after the Dark Lord's triumph, she's being sold at an auction with other muggle borns and blood traitors. Her only hope is also her only bidder - the tall, dark, and handsome Thomus Malfoy, Lucius Malfoy's younger half-brother. Is he just another Death Eater or is he hiding more than just his face beneath the mask? Will she realize her true potential to be one of the resistance's greatest weapons?

*a Voldemort Wins AU with Tom Hiddleston cast as an OC x a plus size protagonist* *takes place in The Auction universe by Lovesbitca8*

word count for this chapter: 2.5k warings for this chapter: none

CHAPTER MASTERLIST

Chapter Fifty-Seven:

The next time I wake my body is entirely too stiff. When I open my eyes, it’s barely morning, everything beyond the doorway of the dog house tinted blue.

I’m warm, though, really warm. I’m wrapped up in something, cocooned. Based on smell alone, I realize it’s Thomus’ cloak. He’s behind me, arm over my stomach, legs tucked tight behind mine. I can feel his deep even breathing, hear it next to my head on the throw pillow we’re somehow sharing.

Slowly, I lift his arm, scooching out of his embrace and the cloak without disturbing his sleep. I push up onto my hands and knees, crawling out onto the damp grass. Then I stand and stretch, thrusting my hands into the sky. I bend down to touch my toes and notice the golden choker discarded a few feet from the dog house, like it was tossed there without care. Good.

When I straighten, I’m shocked to see an owl perched on the back of a patio chair. It’s got a definitive circle around it’s white face and pitch black eyes the size of marbles. I freeze and we just stare at each other for a hot second before the owl’s hackles start to rise, it’s wings restless.

“Shh,” I coo softly at it, taking a step forward. The owl’s head twists to an almost unnatural angle as it shoves one foot forward while balancing on the other, and I realize it’s got a scroll tied to it.  

I glance back at Thomus to make sure he’s still passed out before rushing to the owl and taking the scroll. As soon as the scroll’s in my head, the owl departs. While my fingers fumble with opening the scroll, my eyes follow its flight path into the trees towards the creek. When it’s gone, my eyes scan the paper.

meet me at the creek – KG

K.G… Kyle... Goldman? It’s gotta be.

With the paper crumpled in my fist, I make my way through the damp grass to the path to the creek. I check over my shoulder every few seconds and don’t stop until the cottage is no longer visible beyond the trees.

Next to the creek I walk slower, my eyes scanning for movement, for anything out of place… for a disillusionment charm.

And there, on a fallen tree across the creek, the familiar shimmer catches my eye. I stop and stare at it, crossing my arms over my chest.

“What do you want?” I ask, hopefully loud enough to be heard over the bubbling water, but soft enough my voice won’t carry to the cottage.

Kyle chuckles as he sheds the disillusionment charm. “Well, good morning to you, too.”

“Thomus could wake up at any moment and will wonder where I am, so make this quick.”

He just stares, quietly assessing me without the humor from a moment ago. “I wanted an update on the magic suppression situation.”

I bite my lip. I don’t wanna lie, but I have a feeling he isn’t going to like the truth.

“It’s… fine.”

He raises his eyebrows. “Just… fine?”

“The ones you gave me, didn’t really affect me, especially the third one. The batch he was giving me was already stronger than what they were giving us at the start.”

“That’s what I’d given you. I’d managed to scrounge up some left over vials from a contact at the Ministry.” He leans forward, elbows on his knees. “How did the stronger batch affect you?”

I shift my feet, trying to adjust to where the rocks aren’t killing me. “Three days was the minimum, but it was easy to do magic than when I’d tried any other time.”

“Well, that’s great,” he says, clearly pleased. “Do you think you’ll be able to do it in less than three days?”

I take a deep breath. “I don’t know.”

The satisfied look on his face disappears as his eyes narrow and he frowns. But I go on.

“I don’t know because Malfoy had been… suspicious, and so he made it stronger.”

“Did you give him a reason to be suspicious?”

“Not really,” I shrug. “I think he’d believed I was using Occlumency.”

“How long is it taking you with the new batch?”

I shrug again. “Today’s the third day, so I don’t know yet. I’ve only taken the new batch once.”

He gives me an expectant look. “Try it right now, then.”

I hold out my hand, palm up. I stare at my palm, wordlessly trying to cast the illumination charm. The familiar ball of light doesn’t appear and I don’t bother trying to cast the spell verbally.

With his eyes on me, the anxiety in my chest is pounding in beat with my heart. I get down on one knee, touching my fingers to the damp ground.

“Electrovis,” I mutter, but the heat that usually pour from my fingers with the spell doesn’t come. I repeat the spell and wind up with the same effect. My fingers are even colder than they were before actually.

“Does it come out under pressure?” he asks. “Say if you were in a situation where you needed it, if your life was in danger.”

“It’s a mixed bag with that one,” I admit, standing and brushing the crud off my calf. “My magic doesn’t seem to care how much danger I think I’m in.”

“So, theoretically, let’s say Dementors attacked you, you don’t think that would be any sort of catalyst?”

When I straighten, it’s my turn to narrow my eyes at him. He’s looking at me calmly, without any sort of misgivings about what he said.

“Dementors?” I ask, my voice flat. Thomus had been sure it wasn’t Bellatrix, but he hadn’t been sure about Rodolphus. Meanwhile I think Rodolphus wouldn’t send a third party, at least not with me, at least not after what happened.

But Kyle?

“Did you send them?” I ask, point blank. “The Dementors?”

He releases a humorless laugh and breaks our eye contact. “I guess my question wasn’t subtle.”

“And I’m not an idiot.” I want to scream at him. How could he? “Why did you send them?” I demand angrily.

“It was just a test,” he says smoothly.

“A fucking dangerous one!” I hiss. “Thomus almost –“ I stop, breathing heavily through my nose to calm down. “It was fucking pointless. I already had my magic. Now that’s the reason he made the potion stronger.”

His head tilts, his tone is accusatory. “You exposed yourself.”

“I didn’t have a choice,” I bite. “Malfoy can’t produce a Patronus charm.”

“Most Death Eaters can’t from what I’ve heard,” he shrugs. “Too much dark magic.”

“So you knew there was a possibility we’d both die?”

“I was hoping you’d be able to perform under pressure,” he says casually. “The threat of rape didn’t seem to be a strong enough motivator.”

My jaw actually drops this time. “What the actual –“  

He ignores me. “As it happens, the test didn’t prove to be fruitless. There’d been a few things I hadn’t anticipated.”

“Like what?” I fume.

“Malfoy’s a liability,” he states. “You care for him and because of that, you’ll need to be separated.”

My mouth falls open again, but I quickly shut it, my mind whirling. “How is that the conclusion?”

“The attack proved that you will risk the entire operation by exposing yourself just to save him.”

The new perspective on the situation has me stunned and momentarily speechless.

“Severing ties with Malfoy will be the only way to get you close to Voldemort.”

I cross my arms over my chest. “There has to be another option besides his death.”

He starts shaking his head. “There is no –“

“If you want me to cooperate, then he stays alive. If you don’t know how to do that, figure it out.” As I glare at him, I hope then venom in my voice conveys my seriousness.

He stands, glaring right back. “This war has to end.”

“No shit Sherlock,” I snap. “Answer me this, do you know how I’m gonna get close to Voldemort?”

“The first step is severing –“

“Ties with Malfoy, yeah, okay, what’s after that? Do you know who’s going to buy me? Is it you?”

He scoffs, pinching the bridge between his nose. “I can’t believe this,” he mutters.

“Oh, so that’s something else you need to figure out.” I bring my hands together and give him a fake ass smile. “Great. So while you do that, I’ll work on my immunity to the suppression potion. You got that?”

He scowls with his hands on his hips, looking absolutely done with me. Well, the feeling’s fucking mutual.

“Got it,” he snaps.

“Great,” I repeat and turn my back to him, heading for the cottage. I hear rustling leaves and when I glance back, Kyle’s gone.

I get to the edge of the woods and pause, needing a moment to calm down. I’m too worked up for it being, what – barely 8 in the morning? Though I guess I have good reason to be worked up. From Rodolphus’ attack to being chained up while Bellatrix holds a knife to me seems like enough.

After calming a bit, I march up the back yard. Thomus isn’t in the dog house when I get to the patio. In fact, the dog house isn’t even there. All that remains is a square outline pressed in the grass from where it used to be. The chains and choker had been gathered up as well.

I wish this didn’t upset me. I know what happened last night, but seeing it in the morning hasn’t made anything better. I still feel… crushed.

I go inside and upstairs. I’m in need of a shower after sleeping outside in a wooden box.

Thomus has just finished his, as evidenced by the steamy bathroom. As I turn on the faucet and showerhead, I’m already mentally cursing him for potentially not leaving me any hot water.

“Enjoy your walk?” Thomus asks from the open door to his room. He walks into view, dressed in slim pants and an open belt, toweling off his hair. “The mornings are pretty here.”

I close the door to my room and walk over to his. “It was fine,” I reply without looking at him before closing and locking the door.

~*~

After my shower, I find Thomus downstairs with two mugs of steaming coffee already on the table. He’s gathering what looks like the makings of scrambled eggs. I don’t acknowledge him and shove two slices of bread into the toaster.

“Would you like me to make you an omelet?” he asks, his tone a little unsure.

“Nope,” I say, moving around him to pour cream and sugar into my coffee.

Normally, I’d probably sit and watch him try to make an omelet. As far as I know, he can’t cook, but I’m not in the mood.

“I see.” He sounds disappointed.

I grab a plate, butter, and a butter knife just before the toast pops up, and all without really looking at him.

Is this childish? Sure. Do I know what to do with how I feel? Not at all. Do I even know what I'm upset about? No sir-eee.

With my toast buttered and my coffee creamed, I head into the living room and settle on the couch to re-watch Ever After for the millionth time.

The blue titles have just faded in and out when Thomus emerges from the kitchen, hands in his pockets, leaning against the doorway. I only see him in my peripheral, preferring to keep my focus on the screen.

“Need something?” I ask after taking a sip of my coffee.

“There’s a dinner on Friday,” he says. “A… familial one, at the Lestrange estate.”

The one slice of toast I’d managed to consume in the last ten minutes turns to lead in my stomach. I grab the remote and pause the movie, finally looking at Thomus. “What do you mean familial?”

“My brother, nephew, Narcissa,” he trails off. “The in-laws.”

“Why?”

“It is… at the Dark Lord’s request.”

I scoff and roll my eyes. “Weird, but okay. Guess I’m serving again?”

He inhales sharply. “Bella expressed her desires for all our Lots to be in attendance. You, Granger, and Rabastan’s Lot.”

“Well, fan-fucking-tastic,” I deadpan. I bring my attention back to the TV and hover my finger over the play button. “Is that all?”

He takes a few steps into the room, his eyes bouncing from the TV to me. “What are you watching?”

"A movie.”

“Would you mind if I joined you?”

An instinctual heavy sigh releases from my chest. “Don’t you have any Death Eatering to be doing?”

Thomus stands straighter, hands coming out of his pockets. “What’s your problem?”

I hit play and the main orchestral theme blares from the speakers. “Nothing.”

I feel rather than see him scowl at me before promptly turning on his heel and storming into the office.

~*~

He stays in there all day, only leaving to use the bathroom. He asks – no, demands based on his tone – for me to make him a sandwich a little after noon. I sloppily slap something together that I guess one could call a sandwich and I don’t even bother knocking on the office door before barging in and slamming the plate down on his desk.

Around the time I normally make dinner, my depression has gotten so bad that the only thing I have for dinner is an early bed-time. So by 7 pm I’m in bed with the lights off, hugging a pillow to my chest.

I don’t know how long I lie there, pretending to sleep, but I know it’s not long enough when I hear Thomus calling my name from outside my door. He opens it and steps in, taking in the darkness of the room.

“Go away,” I say, pulling the comforter tighter to my chin.

“Are you feeling alright?” he asks. To my annoyance, he steps in further, and I hear the door close.

“I’m fine, just tired.”

He sits on the edge of the bed, putting a hand on my ankle. I pull it away.

“Why don’t you come stay in my room?” he asks gently.

My response is quick. “I don’t want to.”

“May I –“

“No, I don’t want you here either.” I turn away from him, hugging the pillow even tighter.

He’s silent for a while before speaking again. “I’m not going to feign ignorance as to why you’re upset, but I just – “

“I’m not upset,” I interrupt. “I’m just tired.”

“I didn’t fuck her.”

His words punctuate the silence that follows, so much conviction in his tone that for a moment I’m speechless. I’m absolutely stunned that he slammed the nail on the head when I couldn’t even do it myself. My chest is heavy and hollow at the same time with that all too familiar ache. Only I know now why it aches.

“I didn’t ask.”

I don’t know if he’s being truthful and I don’t know if I really even want the truth.

He slowly exhales, his voice soft. "Okay."

My lip quivers, but I manage to hold back any tears as he quietly makes his exit. 

[hometoursandotherstuff]

1892 Victorian in Cheboygan, Michigan is currently used as a Bed & Breakfast and can be converted back to a single family home. You've got to see the themed bedrooms with matching en-suites, though. 6bds, 6ba, $499,900.

They've got a lot of things around on display, even in the entrance hall.

They must've removed the fireplaces. All there is in the sitting room is an electric heat stove.

The kitchen's nice- like the dark and light tones.

Large dining room accommodates 10 guests for breakfast.

It's also a tea room so this would be the tea room.

In this small sunporch, the owner has a collection of tea ware and vintage linen napkins for the tea room.

This bedroom & en-suite have a European castle theme.

A very rustic barn room with a shower in the room. You can see the rest of the bathroom next to it.

Not fond of this room. It looks like the theme is tile shower.

But, this room is adorable.

Cute little sitting room.

Odd little room in the basement.

Behind the house is a porch and a patio.

Whatever this vehicle is, it's cute.

What a pretty gazebo- look at that roof.

Here's the sign for the business.

The house is right across the street and has a clear view of the Cheboygan River. The property has quite a large parking lot around the block.

https://www.coldwellbanker.com/mi/cheboygan/314-s-main-st/lid-P00800000GJuapq8atz1SdxDy2peQU1zobwREBV2

[pandemichub]

I'd love people to write in in response to this post. I'll share my own story to get things started.

Before the pandemic started I had just started to get on the right track after an apartment fire 3 years ago at the time. Everything was thrown off by that and I developed PTSD from the event. My health and mental health conditions were well managed, including my agoraphobia and I was in good health.

Even as I sheltered in place for approximately 3 years and only did essential activities and went to essential places I still contracted covid. Sadly my carer brought it into my home and I've suffered with long covid immediately subsequent to my acute infection ever since (August 28th 2022).

It's turned my life upside down. I had planned on starting to ride my bike and now it sits in my apartment untouched. I struggle to walk, sit and balance especially for prolonged periods, at the ripe age of 31. An issue I didn't have before remotely.

And yet doctors keep mentioning anxiety, that it's not conclusive despite not studying up to date literature and published research on covid and long covid. I have no purpose for my shoes much either because travel is taxing on my body. In fact I've been at my mom's house for almost a month because I'm not well enough to return home.

Even paid my rent and electric digitally. My patio remains unoccupied, partly because I don't want harassment about wearing a mask outdoors but also would rather not see my neighbors. One of which harassed me and my carer after coming back from a very stressful dentist appointment with appalling covid safety and not having slept that day.

My computer collecting dust, partly due to the winter storm a couple months or so ago that knocked out my power and messed up the boot sequence, but also not being able to sit at and use it without swaying, heart palpations, feeling faint, and for long periods.

My kitchen sink, cooking utensils and ware goes unused most of the time because my new illness has largely robbed me of the energy and focus to prepare and cook meals. And my apartment tends to occupy me or my one support staff because of my fear of a repeat incident of someone bringing disease into my house. A disease that if I catch again well may kill me, or, faster.

My shower usually is dry as a bone, baths and showers leave me flaring and wiped for days. My hair products sit frequently untouched as I'm too exhausted to brush, braid, cover and moisturize my hair. As do my free weights and elastic PT bands. Ever since I got sick I lack stamina, experience shortness of breath (I had asthma but it was well controlled), my heart rate spikes and I can't exercise in any way that would hit targets or be beneficial.

And still my doctor recommends physical therapy despite telling her all this. And worst of all won't give me a long covid diagnosis. She kicked me to specialist.

Specialist who are already booked out, and whose schedules and patient lists keep lengthening because of the sharp and continued rise in long covid. Knowing it could take months for me to get a diagnosis this route and even longer to get new disability aids I need if I even get documents and approvals at all.

That I can't possibly afford because I'm dirt poor. To add pain to injury, I was disabled before this. And I understood the seriousness of covid and long covid. And took every precaution. But in a society that's a threat to life and safety, I was only as safe as everyone else was and is.

Which means I wasn't and still am not. Not only do I have whatever implications and damage short and long term from my first bout of illness, I constantly have the threat of reinfections and death everyday.

And finally, I have no use for many of the chairs in my home as my brain, neck and spine struggle to keep me upright. My body is in some ways new to me and after 3 plus decades in it, I have to learn it all over again.

And am confronted with no longer being able to do what I once did (possibly ever again) with great sadness nor test limits without high risk and unpredictable results. And it is a terrible, deeply off putting, arrogant and cruel insult to hear people write off or outright deny long covid exists and call long covid a cold. It fucking isn't.

Anyway that's my story.