shewolfsource

[fuckyeahchinesefashion]

cosplay of main character li huowang 李火旺 from next big chinese IP 道诡异仙dao gui yi xian/Dao of the Bizarre Immortal (chinese fantacy-thriller-suspense fiction based on dao culture) and the last part is the trailer of anime unreleased yet

[bonchobrick]

tw: slight suicidal actions (but not really the batfam are wildly clueless to the actual context to danny's bullshit hes not suicidal--in this fic--he's dead get it RIGHT brucie)

Au where Batfam are entirely convinced that the new vigilante in Gotham, danny, has time travel powers because he can vanish away from their senses completely

This becomes a problem however when 

Bruce searches for him because wants to save Jason. Danny can save Jason not in the--im a time traveler and i can bring him or you back from or to the past--but in the, I’m a ghost king and have domain over the dead haha

Batfam become really concerned watching Phantom fight because “if he has time travel powers why doesn’t he avoid getting hit every time he can” and get worried phantom is purposefully letting himself get hurt

Danny in all honesty is just vibin the entire time while the batfam is going crazy at every sliver of info they get about danny because like

okay hes a time traveler thats established they got over that

This guy whos somehow been able to stop and rehabilitate rouges (ghosts) in his town is 15??

he may be the kindest most self destructive kid they've ever met like who immediately agrees to help people who were trying to capture and interogate him because he 'thinks we are better than the last billionaire who did this' what the FUCK

Oh yeah and they find out as a bonus in the end that his normal unpowered form he is a teen with black hair and blue eyes (bruce no no dont do it dont--)

---

Bruce is losing his mind

Okay so at the start of this there’s an unknown vigilante (danny) that Batman tends to bump into. Except Batman isn’t sure what he is.

Every time they run into each other Batman can tell there should just be a person beside him but before he gets a glimpse and opens his eyes to empty fresh air.

A vigilante that can vanish before their very eyes?

What do the bats think about this?

They think this vigilante can control time and is doing that to sneak out of their gaze.

Now here’s where the funny part comes in

Bruce goes on a wild hunt to search for the vigilante with a plan. To make them turn back time so that he can save his son.

The problem with this?

Danny is not a time traveler most days–scratch that he's not one at all. He can save his son Jason though, in fact he wants to, it’s just he needs to figure out a way to do this whilst not blowing his cover that he is the goddamn ghost king.

So he pretends that he does have time powers and that he just… uh… needs a minute to figure them out… yeah that!

Cue Batfam getting progressively more worried about Danny because ‘if he could turn back time—why doesn’t he avoid those hits?’

They all kinda think Danny is like purposefully hurting himself so now Danny is forced to eat breakfast with them and sleep at their manor.  I mean he’s confused at why they always look so worried about something but he’ll make sure Batman’s son gets home soon! Plus the rich people temporary-living-situation without all the ‘I want to adopt you’ billionaire bullshit is pretty sweet!!

(somewhere in the ghost zone jason is tearing up laughing at the batfam as they struggle to not burst into flames trying to figure out danny-- like for christs sake they think the ghost king is an american doctor who and are trying to get him to spill where his tardis is)

[captainmaxatx]

I feel like we are all sleeping on the fan fiction potential given to us from Deadpool and Wolverine using their bodies to make a circuit with matter and anti-matter

Who knows what that could do to a person, you could write a fic where that caused anything your heart could think up.

[ryllen]

Please don't crucified me if this headcanon is deemed unrealistic in real life. (´；ω；`) More notes / detailed notes:

stayed & travelled with the Figs for awhile -- after being found, before finally dropped of to an institution, as the Figs think their travelling life style is not really suitable to raise a child

quickly picked up civilization as he is an intelligent child (that's why he is a ravenclaw)

exchanged letters with the travelling Figs during his time at the institution / orphanage

was a really helpful child during his time at the institution / orphanage that he is close with the staff

he thinks of befriending people is a way of learning & by helping them he gets to experience a lot of different things

a mellow temperament child in general (just like how it is ingame)

likes exploring (bcs damn! we really going places in that game)

picked the silly 'Alex Xander' name himself, maybe he heard a mother called her child with that name once and he is obsessed with that name ever since.

he always writes Xander as his 'family name' to show that he is complete even without a family

actually a bit older than his classmates, as he went through extra few years to catch up to civilization as a feral child

blank template [x]

#anyhow i really love our barn owl; she's so beautiful but with a face like biscuit

[flowercrowngods]

in which steve takes el to see her first meteor shower

Steve is pulling up at the Hopper-Byers house around ten at night, hoping that El remembers their little date. Hoping even more that the Chief will let them do this.

The door opens before Steve so much as closes his car, and a very excited teenager already runs toward him, laughing when she crashes into his chest, the impact of which makes Steve stumble back against the car.

"Good evening to you, too, you little menace." He ruffles her hair, excited to see how long it's gotten again, a mop of wild curls.

"Hi," she says into his chest, hands hooked behind his back, and they just stand there and cuddle for a minute. The night air is refreshing after the day's boiling heat, and it's good to bask for a moment.

After a moment, Hopper appears in the front door, framed by the low light coming from inside, but even in the dark, Steve thinks he can make out the expression on the Chief's face. How he tries for stern, but can't quite manage it. Not when they've all been through so much.

"Hey, kid," he says, approaching the siblings where they are still hugging. "You looking to kidnap my daughter?"

"Yes, actually," Steve grins. "Will you let me?"

Hop gives a long-suffering sigh and places a hand on Steve's shoulder. "If there's one thing I've learned, Steve, it's that I can't stop you from anything you set your mind to. So I don't think I've much of a choice in the matter, let alone a say."

El chuckles and leans up to press a little kiss to Hopper's cheek. "Thanks, dad."

"Yeah, yeah," he grumbles, and Steve snickers. "Get out of my sight, you two, but I expect to see you both at breakfast tomorrow."

"Eleven o'clock," Steve says in lieu of a groan, because he loves Sunday breakfast at the Hopper-Byers' place.

"Eight."

"Ten-thirty."

"Nine-thirty, last offer. Take it or leave it, boy."

"Deal," Steve grins, then turns back to El. "You ready to go?"

She nods. "Ready." Then turns back to Hop and gives him another kiss to the cheek and a quick hug. "Goodnight, dad."

"Have a good night, kid." As El bounds around the car to jump in on the other side, Hop turns to Steve, who's already moving in for a hug, too. "You, too. Be careful."

"Always. It's just stars, though."

"I know. Still."

"I know."

It's good. The hug. The worry. The way they care and talk and accept. Makes Steve think that it was all worth it, sometimes. Moments like this, under the stars. He gets to have this.

The Chief lets him to eventually and then they're speeding off. Steve is taking El to the weather top in the middle of the night, snacks and drinks and blankets in the back of his car. Because El has never seen a shooting star, let alone a meteor shower. And Steve is dead set to change that.

The other kids are gonna be so jealous when they hear that Steve and El went to watch the stars fall from the sky (well, not really, but that's what it looks like, and that's what Eddie weaves into his stories sometimes), but Steve doesn't care. This is for El. This is for the little girl, injured and weak and frightened, and for the boy who taught her the meaning of magic.

This is only for them.

They don't trek up to the real weather top, since it would be too exhausting of a trip, and too dangerous in the dark. Instead, Steve parks on the open field of a smaller hill that offers them a perfect, uninterrupted view of the sky. No trees, no houses, no excess light to bother them.

"Yeah, this is perfect," he mutters as he kills the engine.

They spread out the blanket together right beside the car, grabbing snacks and drinks and more blankets in case they get cold at some point. El immediately lies down and reaches for some cookies while Steve goes back to the car, putting on one of their favourite tapes. Kim Wilde's 1982 album. One of El's first ever favourite albums.

It makes Steve smile, especially when he hears the excited squeal when the first notes carry through the air.

He eventually settles beside her on the blanket, the music just loud enough to create a nice atmosphere in the otherwise quiet night, and Steve already feels like there's something incredibly special about this moment.

And then El gasps. "Steve," she whispers, pointing up at the sky above them.

He can see the last remnants of the shooting star that lit up the the night and, most importantly, El's face. She's gripping him now, frantically scanning the sky for more, and Steve chuckles, moving his arm in her grip enough to take her hand if that's what she wants.

"What was that?" she asks.

"A shooting star," Steve explains. "They're not real stars, though. There are rocks floating around in space, and sometimes the Earth will move through, like, a chain of them, and then they burn up when they enter the Earth's atmosphere. That's what makes them look like that. Pretty, right?"

She's nodding, refusing to take her eyes away from the sky, and Steve settles back, too, getting more comfortable on the blanket. It's not long before the next shooting star appears - a larger one this time, cutting through half the night sky before it disappears.

"Wow," El whispers beside him, and Steve wants to burst at that genuine wonderment in her eyes, her voice, the way she's squeezing his hand.

"You get to make a wish when you see a shooting star."

"A wish?"

"Yeah. But don't tell me. It has to be a secret wish, and then maybe it'll come true."

At that, El nods solemnly, always so damn serious, like wishing on a shooting star deserves to be treated with the utmost care and calculation. Maybe it does. Steve won't judge. It's not like El grew up with many serious opportunities to make a wish, let alone make it freely.

"Can I wish something for you?" she interrupts that particular train of thought, and Steve stops short, looking at her.

"You wanna wish something for me?" She nods. "What would you wish for me?"

She meets his eyes with a little frown. "It's secret."

"Oh. Right. Sorry."

"It's okay."

Oh, he wants to burst again. But he only squeezes her hand. "Yeah, I think you can wish something for me."

And then she only smiles, and Steve wants to know, wants to ask, wants to be seen just a bit less, wants to exist only between the stars and the wishes that El could have for him.

He closes his eyes, focusing only on her gasps, her hums, her chuckles, her little wows, and he smiles.

Later, he tells her about the constellations he remembers. Some he made up himself. Some that Eddie made up. His heart jumps a little at the thought of the metalhead he never thought to fall in love with. Eddie who loves the stars, who knows so many seafarer's tales about them, mythology that Steve doesn't know if it's genuine or if Eddie made it up. If he's writing his own mythology. Steve wouldn't put it past him.

It's long after midnight and silence has settled between them, both of them somewhere deep inside their own heads, yet anchored in the moment, together. It's serene.

Maybe it's that serenity that gets Steve talking.

"Hey El?"

"Yes?"

"I kissed Eddie."

She gasps again, but not because of a shooting star this time, and turns to face him. "You kissed Eddie?"

"Yeah." The smile is on his lips before he can even try to fight it, and he finds that he doesn't want to. "I was really scared to do it. But it was good. I think..."

"Yeah?"

Steve exhales slowly, seeking solace in El's hand, who immediately squeezes his again, her other hand coming up to run through his hair. A calming motion that never fails to ground him. El is the only one allowed to do this, the only one who does it right. "I think I might have fallen in love with Eddie."

She nods, smile on her face, and then falls forward, head landing on his chest. They don't really have a sense of personal space around each other and Steve loves it, combing through her hair now -- a motion that is just as calming.

"That was my wish."

"Come again?"

"My wish. My shooting star wish," she says, shuffling so she can look at him without moving from her spot. "I wished that you'd smile like you did when you told me you kissed Eddie. And if he makes you smile, he can stay."

"You'll allow it, huh?" Steve chuckles, but El is dead serious when she nods.

"I'll allow it."

And his chuckle turns a bit more genuine now, his lungs filling with the perfection of this moment. He has people that are fiercely protective of him. He has a pretty boy willing to kiss him that he doesn't have to share with those people yet. He has the stars above, willing to grant wishes despite the horrors they know he's seen. And he has El.

In a way, it's really all he could wish for.

El stays the night at Steve's, though he has to carry her inside from his car and wake her like he used to. They share a bed like they used to, and in the morning she'll wear his clothes like she used to.

It's good. It's perfect. And when they arrive for breakfast at ten, Hopper doesn't even call them out on being late when he sees the happy, content smiles on their faces. He just very discreetly kicks Steve's butt, but he had that coming.

[coquelicoq]

when you're the only person who keeps living through the time loop, the people around you cease to be people and become mere characters. your treatment of them doesn't matter because they're not real and they won't remember. the only way to give anything meaning is to end the loop; their actions don't affect the loop and therefore are meaningless. you're the only one who has the ability to change the future, so anything you do in service of that goal is justified.

but. kim dojka looks at yoo joonghyuk and says no, actually, these characters are people. whether they remember or not is beside the point because they are real right now. and you don't give your life meaning by achieving some accomplishment that retroactively makes everything that came before worth it - you give your life meaning in the living of it.

[psychicwound]

their storylines are holding hands... do you get it. their storylines are

[ananke-xiii]

A spell goes wrong and somehow Dean travels back in time to when he was 7 or 8 years old and Sam goes well into his future, a few weeks prior to his final death. The only way to go back to their timeline is for Dean to find someone who loves him unconditionally and for Sam to establish a real, meaningful connection with another person.

It takes them some time to get it but they eventually manage:

Dean understands that no matter how hard he tries whatever happened, happened, the damage is there and yet there's a way to change the past, you don't need to change events but you can change your relation to them. He understands that the only person who will ever unconditionally love that child/him is himself, he can heal his own wound by pouring all the love he has to give to that scared little child who'll forever live beside him.

Sam understands that he doesn't have to be the spectator of his death as he thinks he is of his life, he can take matters into his hands by establishing a real connection with that old man/his own self. Whatever happened, happened, the trauma is there but he has the possibility to take it slowly to the foreground, to talk about it, to talk with it because it is a part of him that will never change, sure, but he can modify his relation with it in order to take control of his own story. He can create a connection with himself.

Dean goes back to the future after he's hugged himself as a child and told him he'll forever be loved and Dean will never forget about him, it's a promise; while Sam goes back to the past by holding his hand as his future self dies and telling him not to be afraid, that they still have time and Sam will do whatever he can to make every second count, it's a promise.

[leveragedlibrarians]

The good news: Librarians sequel series produced by Dean Devlin greenlit for 2023!

The bad news: created by the CW

[simgerale]

me after attempting to get back into sims and realizing i had a lot more to do than play the game

[ganondoodle]

i have never played or seen anything of outer wilds (game) and im just now watching someone play it and i keep thinking like .. man .. the sonau could have been something like that in totk, like even the architecture of the nomai in OW looks similar - very angular and mostly off-white green and gold, the name nomai is similar to the english translation for the sonau (zonai), the only(?) somewhat living one of the old and gone people is called solanum which reminds me of sonau and the ore sonanium (engl. zonaite), heck the nomai are goat like looking people with three eyes and use a highly advanced but little understood tech that you need to discover!!! they got swirly patterns alot! they even fuck up some time stuff!!

and im not saying nintendo copied them or something, the general idea isnt something all too unique (as no ideas are) but some of the similarities (like highly advanced in tech three eyed goat people that have a white and green/gold color scheme) do just make me sad bc i keep thinking about thats how the sonau could have been (minus the space stuff but moreso the VIBES and theme, game design aorund them!!), the way its done in OW is so neat, also i love that you cant understand them without a tool and you cant really communicate with them in turn like either! like the fact that there is not even a hint of a language barrier to the sonau in totk is like??? especially given the time span that is supposed to be between the past and the present in totk, not being able to clearly communicate would have been a really good and rather easy way to make the sonau more mysterious! even if you gave them subtitles that translated their language later on it would still make them feel a little more ancient

... actually ..its even worse .. in totks present theres only few people that can translate the text of the sonau, so the idea is there .. but how is zelda able to talk to them no problem? and rauru with you also mineru you could argue its bc they spent a long time as ghosts on the islands or in the shiek- purah pad but neither of them had any contact to the surface so that doesnt work, zelda teaching it to them also doesnt work bc that would take time she doesnt have and she literally talks to them all normally the literal first time they even meet ... it just being bc the hylian language never changed somehow so rauru and mineru just talk hylian is ...... the most boring answer tbh, not even slightly different manner of speech? over all that time? not some sort of accent?? even some of the old zora got one in botw (at least in german .. then again they also removed dumsda (engl. hudson) quirky way to talk ..... ), nothing? no??

it kinda plays into the whole lot that is a big problem with totk imo, the idea is there or even mentioned but its either not acted upon, never adressed or answered the most boring way

[deiaiko]

#8 - Grief

Masterlist

Previous

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Let me know your thoughts in the reblogs <3

[cheriafreya]

ah such a good time to come back to this game :> plus it's officially coming to Steam in a few months!

[simplyghosting]

Cherished Emery

Written for @inklings-challenge. Definitely out of my comfort zone, but I gave it my best go, even if it wasn't quite what I expected.

—— It was an early spring day and a lingering chill breezed past worn checkered curtains and swirled around the feet of the couple settled in the small living room.

“You’ll see, my dear! I’ll have it all solved!” Ernest crowed as he scrabbled and grabbed for another tool from the box sitting amidst the soot spilling from the fireplace before hurrying back to his work desk by the south window. “I’ll find the root of why my grandfather lost his fortune so that I can obtain my rightful inheritance and we shall be rich! No more cooking on that old, temperamental stove! A new dress for you and a new suit for me! Why, I can get you the wedding ring that you deserve!”

Emery smiled softly from the simple, wooden rocker where she sat mending, placing her latest project down to turn the plain silver band around her finger. “I’m happy with my wedding band, Ernest. I treasure it as much as I would any other ring for the memory of our vows.”

“But you deserve more!” Ernest insisted as he took a small ball-peen hammer and began tapping at a sheet of metal. “Something engraved! Something set with precious stones! Anything you would want, my dear! Rubies, diamonds, emeralds, sapphires! Any or all!” A strap of leather was pulled out and a punch tool clicked away. “A new home! One employed with a cook and a maid!”

“Oh, do you not like my cooking that we would need a cook?” Emery asked in a lightly teasing voice.

“No! I love your food!” Ernest turned his head around hastily before turning back to his work. “I just wanted you to be able to relax and enjoy yourself instead of slaving over that wretched stove.”

Emery hummed reassuringly, “It is work, but I enjoy cooking. I like to see what I can come up with and it makes me happy to enjoy what I make with you.”

Ernest huffed in acquiescence, “Maybe just the maid then. To help you.” He tacked on quickly.

“That would be nice, I suppose.” A beat. “Someone to help me fix that drafty sill of the window maybe?”

Ernest paused once the words registered and then huffed again at the subtle reprimand. “I know you wanted that fixed last winter-“

“-Last fall, dear.”

“-But this plan will work and as soon as it is done you won’t need to worry about that anymore. We’ll simply buy a new home that doesn’t need any of these endless repairs.”

Emery sighed softly before focusing back on the sock she was darning. It had several patches already put in place so much so that the original material could hardly be distinguished. She picked up her needle and continued on. “Are you going to be finished with your project soon?”

The sound of rivets being tapped into place filled the room.

“Ernest?”

“Hm? Oh, oh! Yes, yes, I think with just a few more finishing touches I should be able to depart today.”

“That’s certainly soon.” She paused, then tilted her head, hovering her needle over the patchwork sock, “but… is it safe? It hasn’t been tested before.”

“I’ve made all the calculations needed.” He answered, eyes focused on checking the alignment of some impossibly small gears in the heart of the apparatus. “I’ll be able to safely pass through time via the portal generated by the device with no harm to myself. Worry not, my love, all our troubles shall be far behind us soon.”

“Alright.” she breathed. “Will you be gone long?”

“It may take several tries back and forth to find the culprit, chasing down dominoes to catch a butterfly, may even be multiple butterflies.” He grunted as he wound a cable into a tighter spiral. “The investigative process can’t be measured exactly, you see.”

“Ah, that makes sense. Still, do you have any sort of estimate?”

“Maybe a few days with some luck. Maybe a few weeks to a couple of months. I won’t know more until I actually get there.”

“You’ll be leaving today then?”

A gear popped further into place and with a sharp click the device began to softly whirr. “Yes, the sooner the better.” He pulled the device off the table with a grunt and pulled it over his back, strapping bands connected to it across his chest, adjusting the leather buckles so that it was fitted, and then began adjusting some dials embedded in a cuff connected to his wrist. “The sooner we get to it, the sooner our lives will start!”

“Do you know where you will be?”

“I should land outside the location where my grandfather’s mill was first constructed. I don’t know the exact time he arrived there, but the old letters my grandmother saved said he should be in the area in the time I’m to arrive, so for that it’s only a matter of time for me to encounter him and find the reason for all of this mess.”

“I see. Is there anything you need for your journey? I can make you a lunch before you go.”

“No need.” Ernest said, grabbing his coat thrown over a peg by the door. “I know there was an orchard not too far from the mill, so I’ll be able to grab a meal from there. My great-uncle used to speak of them giving meals and even board to those willing to do some work, so I’ll manage in that regard.”

“You’ll be staying there overnight?”

“I’ll come back as often as I can. If I have a strong lead, I may need to work overnight to follow it. May even have to trail some people. Never know.” He explained, adjusting the sleeves of the coat to hide the controls on the cuff.

Emery rose from her seat and came to stand in front of Ernest, adjusting the collar of his coat. “Alright. Please, be safe and come back soon.” She brushed the lapels of his coat lightly before resting her hands on them. “I married you for richer or for poorer. Don’t feel that you have to do this if you’re looking for my happiness. I’ve already found it.” She looked up into his eyes. “I don’t need anymore than that.”

Ernest softened his eyes before kissing his wife and embracing her. “But you deserve it.” The couple lingered like that for a moment in silence save for the machine’s soft hum, before Ernest pulled away and gave her a beatific smile.

Emery smiled softly back and stepped back. “I’ll be waiting for you.”

“My dear Emery, just you wait I shall have all our financial woes resolved!” And with that Ernest flicked a switch near his breast pocket and vanished with a ripple as a stone dropped into a still pond, leaving an even stiller room.

—

The air warped with a low hum and like someone stepping from behind a panel of tulle, Ernest reappeared from the air. “My dear! I’ve found my grandfather! It only took a day of searching but luckily he wasn’t far from the mill grounds!”

Emery looked up surprised from where she kneeled before the fireplace, face smeared with soot from her efforts to scrub the brick clean. “Ernest?” She rose and made a futile attempt to dust herself off. “You’re back? A- a day?”

“Yes!” He ran over and grasped her arms before pecking her lips which resulted in a soot smear on his nose. “It’s such good luck!”

“A day?” She breathed.

Ernest nodded excitedly. “Yes! A day! Considering I didn’t know his routine or exact whereabouts yet it was marvelous luck to spot him inside the local general store. Of course, I didn’t interact and only followed for a bit to get a better idea of his regular path and-“

“Ernest, my love.” Emery spoke with a look of quiet horror. “You’ve been gone for a week.”

“I- oh.” The elated expression slowly dropped from his face. “A week?”

“A week.” She whispered tearfully. “I didn’t expect you to be gone for so long.”

“A week.” He mumbled to himself. “There must be some kind of time dilation. I expected some kind of difference in time flow between present and past, but I didn’t think that it would be that great.”

“Ernest���” She clung to his coat. “I don’t know that this is right.”

“Yes, yes, need to account for that. Adjust the dials for a second iteration.” Ernest patted her hands absently and started pulling away to fiddle with something on the control cuff.

Emery looked up with wide eyes. “You’re going back?”

“I’ll jump ahead a bit to shorten the time now that I have a more precise idea of my grandfather’s old haunts. With the luck I’ve had so far, it shouldn’t be too much longer.” He placated, not looking up from a spinning dial.

“I… mm… alright. I’ll… be waiting for you.”

Ernest grabbed a paper and pen from his work desk and shoved them in his coat pocket before striding up to Emery to place a kiss on her cheek. “Worry not my love! I know what I’m doing.” And he took a step back, flicked a switch on the cuff, and vanished.

——

When Ernest next returned, he found Emery sitting in her rocker hemming the frayed edge of a checkered curtain and rushed over to kiss her cheek. “A new lead, my love! I’ve found where the deed is kept for the land of the mill and it’s soon to be founded! I should be able to skip forward a bit now that I know the men involved.”

Emery looked up at him, surprised, “Ernest. How long were you gone?”

“Just a few days. Really good luck again!” He strided to his desk to grab a box of small gears and a screwdriver. “It’s been fantastic and- oh! The groves are lovely the time of year there. I think you’d love it.”

“A few days… it’s almost been two weeks.”

“Mm? Oh, the time dilation difference. It can’t be helped much I’m afraid. I’ll be as fast as I can, but really it shouldn’t be much longer.”

“Ernest, please, if you’re doing this for me, I don’t need anymore than what we already have and you. I miss you.”

“Emery, don’t worry,” He said dropping the tools into a pocket. “I’ll be back soon with more good news!” and smiled as he flicked a switch and disappeared.

“I’ll… be waiting.”

—

The next time Ernest stepped out of the past and greeted Emery, he found her sitting in the rocker again working in between two baskets full of clothes. “Where did all of that come from?”

Emery didn’t look up, focused for the moment on a stitch. “I’ve started working with the women from the local church to help the community by doing some mending for them. It’s mostly charity, but sometimes small donations are given as a thank you or aid to those who volunteer. It’s been a nice routine.”

Ernest went back to his desk to pick up a thin curved tool. “If you like it then that’s all well, I suppose. You don’t need to do that for coin though. I’ve found a new lead with the mill workers and found a group that I’m convinced had it out for my grandfather and caused some of the later business failings.”

“It’s been almost three months, Ernest. I don’t want to wear away at our savings too much.”

“Three? Hm. Well, still, shouldn’t be much longer.” He came over and kissed her forehead. “I’ll get to the bottom of it and return,” and promptly vanished with a flick and a whirr.

—— “A new lead! Multiple points of interest as it turns out. The workers and some shady merchants involved. Took a bit to track the merchants down.” Ernest popped back in and scrabbled in his toolbox for a moment before pulling out a coil of wire. “It’s all going so very well! Such good luck, I can’t believe it!” And popped just as quickly back out as Emery brushed back a wisp of greying hair.

——

The next Ernest returned with news of a new lead, Emery sat knitting a blanket.

“My hands have been getting too sore with detail work.” She explained, working in the glow of the lamplight. “I’ve been making blankets and winter-wear for the people at the church. A few kind boys often come down on the colder days to pick up anything I’ve made so that I don’t need to make the trek over. Spring will be soon, but it’s still chilly and warmth is needed.”

——

A few more returns met with Emery working and waiting each time, and Ernest’s quick departures just the same, before he last arrived to find an empty room and where Emery had always sat in her place was a folded knit blanket with an envelope resting on top. “I think I’ve found the last piece, Emery! Emery? Hello?” The house was small and a quick search revealed no sign of Emery. He was just about to investigate the letter when a knock sounded at the door. Visitors were rare and he was not surprised not to recognize the woman who stood at the door. “Hello. Who are you?”

“Ah! Good afternoon! I’m surprised to see someone here. I often stop by at least once a week and let myself in to do my usual check, but always knock just in case, which seems to be rewarded this time. Are you Emery’s husband?”

“I… yes. I’m Ernest, her husband. If you’re looking for her though, she’s not here at the moment.”

The lady’s eyes became pained and her smile strained. “No, no I wouldn’t expect her to be. She asked me to stop by regularly regardless of her presence. Have you found a letter by chance?”

“A letter? There’s an unopened one on the chair, but I haven’t touched it. Did she leave it and the blanket for you?”

“Ah, no, no they’re not for me, Emery left them for you. Mr. Ernest, I would suggest you read that letter, and… perhaps sit down for it.”

“The letter is for me? How do you know that? Who exactly are you?” Ernest quizzed.

“I’m an old friend of Emery’s from the church she volunteered for. She served for a good many years- a joy to have- always a kind word and good quality work from her. She spoke of you often, always kindly, always kindly.” She added with assurance. “She mentioned you needing to be away for work- overseas merchant or something, yes?- and worried about your health, if you were warm for the winter and that sort of thing, though it seems she needn’t have been, as much as a spring chicken you look. The other ladies and I worried about her being alone for long times, but she wanted to make sure to be able to catch you on your short returns so she wouldn’t stay with any of us for long, bless her- what was your question? Ah! Right! Emery told me about the letter and instructed me to check in to see that you received it. Now that you’ve returned from your travels, I’m glad to have been able to likewise return a long-standing favor to her. Now, I do have to be off. I have to run to pick up my youngest grandchild. I pray you have a good day, sir.” And with that she hurried off, and Ernest had shut the door before he realized he hadn’t even gotten her name.

“A letter for me?” Ernest slowly walked over to the old rocker, now coated in a layer of dust before lifting the envelope. It was a bit yellowed with age and had Emery’s twisting scrawl on the front of it, a little wobbly at the ends, but still distinctly hers, clearly addressing the letter to himself. He removed the blanket from the chair and sat down before draping the plush, green material atop his lap. He took a small knife from his coat pocket and opened the top of the envelope, pulling out the letter and began to read as a spring breeze snuck past a crack in the sill of a window framed by worn checkered curtains.

[queerstudiesnatural]

i think my brain should be studied i'm being fr