#so that means working through the winter & going in the spring. which is ... fine. but i should've bit that bullet last month.

[wolfpoets]

legitimately mourning this summer. feels like i didn't do anything.

[slasherx]

Funny times with Jason

Content: Jason Voorhees x gn!Reader

Warnings: None

Notes: In which there are four instances where you thought Jason was being funny. Also I finally found a 2009 Jason gif!

• ───────────────── •

It was a cold winter day, and with the cabin's heating system being broken, it was understandably cold inside too. Jason didn't seem to mind, but you were freezing. Jason found you huddled on the couch under several blankets. You turned to look at him and held your arms out. "Come hold me?"

Jason's shoulders bounced like he was laughing. You could faintly hear it. You pouted and brought your arms back under your blankets. "Fine. None for you."

Jason stopped laughing and moved closer to you, waving his hands around. You looked away. "No, you laughed at me."

Jason came closer and put his hands on your shoulders. He shook you gently to get you to look at him. Finally, you looked back up at him. When he started to sign the word 'sorry,' you swiftly shoved your hands up his shirt.

They were ice cold, and the shock made Jason let out a scream. You began to laugh really hard, leaning forward so your forehead rested on his stomach. Your arms slowly slid out from underneath his shirt, and you could feel his muscles clench at the cold.

"Jason, baby, woah!" You said between laughs.

Jason was not amused.

• ───────────────── •

Spring had finally rolled around, which meant chilly mornings and hot afternoons. Putting on the appropriate attire, you thought you were all set for a day of work.

"Jason? Have I forgotten anything?" You asked loudly through the cabin as you checked your pockets.

Jason came into view and towered over you. You could see his eyes through the mask for once. "Oh, I know what I forgot."

With a smile, you leaned up and kissed him where his mouth would be. You saw his ears and neck turn red, but something poked your stomach. Looking down, you saw his hand with your car keys in them.

"Oh...that's what I forgot." You chuckled awkwardly, but burst out laughing on the inside.

• ───────────────── •

Summer had rolled around and the two of you were sitting on the couch watching a movie. The A/C was going, Jason had his arm over your shoulders, it was nice.

It seemed to be too nice for Jason, as he began to drift off. You hadn't noticed yet. Jason's head began to lull to the side, and he let out a loud snore that made both you and him jump, and look at each other.

You began laughing, holding your stomach. "You can snore? That's hilarious!"

Jason was once again not amused.

• ───────────────── •

And then autumn rolls around. You and Jason were out for a midnight stroll and had stopped at the lake. The full moon shone brightly, illuminating the space around you.

You were leaning against Jason on the dock, his arm around your shoulders once more. You sighed happily against him, before turning to look at him.

"I love you, Jason."

Jason seemed shocked by this and whipped his head to you. His wide eyes staring into your soul, flicking back and forth between your eyes. You giggled. "Yes Jason, I mean it."

You cupped his masked cheek and leaned in for a kiss. Jason was eager and leaned in too fast, smashing your noses into each other. He reeled back and blinked in surprise. You rubbed your nose and tried your hardest not to laugh.

"Jason, baby, it's okay. Come back here."

Jason, now embarrassed, hung his head. He was again, not amused.

• ───────────────── •

Here's my masterlist, in case you like what you see and want to request more!

[lnfours]

haunted w conrad GO

okay so you’re trying to fucking kill me. i’m convinced. warnings: language, mentions of drinking, a little bit of fluff, angst and just pure heartbreak idk.

inbox 💌 | listen

if there was one thing you knew about conrad fisher, it was that he was unpredictable.

you had always been friends with the fisher and conklin siblings, living next door to them every summer for as long as you could remember. it wasn't a secret that you and conrad were the closest out of the group. but, as the two of you got older, you had realized that it was because you had fallen for the brunette boy with floppy hair that always seems to end up in his eyes no matter how short he cuts it.

you thought back to the moment on the dock, the two of you laughing as you sat with your feet in his lap. he was looking down at his phone, trying to figure out which song to play next on the speaker. belly, jere, and steven were all back by the pool, laughing loudly and carrying on.

you looked over at him as you caught his glance, you smiled, "what?"

she shook his head, "nothing,"

you raised an eyebrow, "sure it's not just nothing, con?" you could tell when he was trying his best to keep a secret, but it never worked. not around you, anyway.

"i just... you have a crush on me?" he asked, his lips turned up in a smile. your eyes widened as you sat up.

"uhm," you trailed off, looking at his expression. he didn't seem grossed out and if anything, he looked relieved? "uhm, yeah. how do you know?"

he smiled, "belly."

you rolled your eyes, "that girl is going to be the death of me."

he laughed, "it's okay. i mean, i guess i kind of have a thing for you, too."

you looked over at him, "you have a crush... on me?"

he smiled, nodding as he moved closer to you. you smiled as he brushed a loose strand of hair behind your ear, "i do,"

your heart pounded against your ribs as you smiled, "cool."

"cool." he echoed back.

you made the mistake of looking down at his lips. he smiled softly, doing the same. you had always wanted this exact moment to happen, every wish on a candle, every penny in a fountain, you had wished for him. for this moment.

and now it was finally happening.

"can i kiss you?" he asked. you nodded your head.

"please."

he smiled before connecting your lips with his. every thing about the kiss was all you'd been waiting for. it was finally happening.

and the two of you had been together ever since. even during the spring, fall and winter, he was yours during every season.

now it was the next summer, and everything had changed from when you'd last seen him. he was quieter, kept to himself more. spending his days daydrinking, and smoking more. something was off, and it was like he was forcing himself to act happy around you.

you had tried asking him about it, but he always just shut you out, insisting he was fine when he really wasn't.

you sat in your bed, putting down your book as your phone buzzed on the mattress next to you.

connie can we talk?

your heart dropped, things like this never ended well.

y/n beach in 5?

connie sounds good

you tugged on a hoodie and slipped on your flip flops before making your way out the back door. you walked onto the beach, spotting conrad sitting down in the sand.

"you wanted to talk?" you asked, hugging your knees to your chest. he looked down at the sand by his feet, not making eye contact with you.

red flag number one.

"i uhm," he started, brining a hand up to run through his hair, "i think that we should put us on pause, for a minute.."

his voice trailed off as looked over at him, "are you serious?"

he finally decided to look over at you, his eyes red. had he been crying?

"yeah," he said, "i just... i don't think we should do this, not right now, anyway."

he knew that look on your face, you weren't listening to what he was saying, instead your eyes studied his facial features, "what's wrong, conrad? what aren't you telling me?"

he groaned, "for fucks sake, are you even listening?"

you repeated your question, "are you listening to me? i'm trying to help you!"

"i don't need your fucking help, y/n!" he was yelling now, standing up as he rubbed his face with his hands, "jesus."

you looked at him, standing up to face him again, "why're you pushing me out? what's going on, just talk to me. please."

the please came out quieter than you had meant for it to, and he knew it was because you were on the brink of tears. he looked over at you, "this was a mistake."

you looked at him confused, "what was?"

"us," he didn't mean it, he just was doing what he knew how to do best, push people out and hurt the ones you love the most.

you scoffed, looking away from him and looking out towards the ocean. the moon was hitting the water at just the right angle for it to reflect onto the waves. it would've been a pretty sight, a nice moment if he hadn't ruined it.

ruined you. with that one word. mistake.

you thought you had conrad all figured out up until now. up until this summer, he was different.

"don't leave it like this," you whispered, looking back at him with tears in your eyes. he desperately wanted to reach out to you, tell you he didn't mean any of it. tell you the truth about his mom's cancer, and his dad's affair.

but he couldn't. he didn't know how to.

"please, don't," you whispered, "i love you."

he let a tear fall from his eyes as he shook his head, turning to walk away, "i'm sorry."

he ignored you calling back for him as you stood on the beach. you were frozen in the sand, watching the love of your life walk away from you. he let the tears roll off his cheeks and disintegrate into the sand as he walked away from the one form of true love he had ever felt.

you.

[breelandwalker]

Pink Moon - April 6 2023

Prepare for the blooming season and make sure you take those allergy meds - it's time for the Pink Moon!

Pink Moon

Named for the appearance of spring flowers, in particular the early springtide ground phlox, the Pink Moon often coincides with the first bloom of the season, with trees and fields in flower and a profusion of color returning to the world after the long bleak greyness of winter. Despite the name, the moon itself does not turn pink to match.

The April full moon is also sometimes known as the Paschal Moon, being the first full moon after the spring equinox. The Christian Easter holiday, which has a floating date, occurs on the first Sunday after the Paschal Moon. Alternate European names for the Pink Moon include Egg Moon and Budding Moon, and some modern pagan traditions call it the Awakening Moon. Indigenous names for this moon include Breaking Ice Moon (Algonquin), Budding Moon of Plants and Shrubs (Tlingit), Moon When The Ducks Come Back (Lakota), Planting Moon (Tunica), and Frog Moon (Cree).

Farmer's Proverb: A full Moon in April brings frost. If the full Moon rises pale, expect rain.

What Does It Mean For Witches?

The Pink Moon is a time for reconnecting with yourself and the world around you. The world is giving a good yawn and stretch after a long winter's sleep and so can we! Get outside if you can and get some fresh air. Explore your area, especially if there's something or someplace new you've been meaning to try. Revisit old haunts and discover what's changed since the last time you were out and about.

Take a moment to assess your current goals and mark your progress. Celebrate your growth and learn from your setbacks. Assess your boundaries as well. Are you making enough time for yourself? Are you letting things or tasks or people intrude where they shouldn't? Is there anywhere that you should be standing firm but aren't? Balance dedication to your work with playtime and relaxation. Remember that you are not required to set yourself on fire to keep others warm. Take time to care for your own needs and address those "I'm Sure It's Nothing" health concerns you've been putting off.

What Witchy Things Can We Do?

By the time the Pink Moon comes around, there's either one more cold spell working its' way through or the first true warmth of spring beginning to appear. If the temperatures are rising to sunny pleasantry in your area, it's the perfect time to start planting your garden.

Whether you have a few pots on a patio or a fully-planned plot or just some well-beloved houseplants, get your fingers into the dirt and transfer those seeds and sprouts to a nice fertile home. You can work various kinds of magic as you do, for growth, fertility, prosperity, tenacity, resilience, protection, whatever seems needful. If you grow your own plants for your magical practice, you can also bless them for their intended purposes. If you don't garden (and not all of us do), you can grab your field guide and pruning scissors and go foraging.

For a fun and easy full-moon spell, set out some gallon jugs of potable water to make Pink Moon Water. This will be excellent for watering your garden...and yourself! (Rainwater isn't safe to drink these days, and water collected from wild sources is dicey even if you boil it, but drinking water works just fine.) You can also cast spells for creativity, change, fertility, happiness, adaptability, and growth. Use whatever methods resonate with you and remember that the most important component of any spell is the witch who casts it.

The earth is blooming, so let's bloom with it!

Happy Pink Moon, witches! 🌕🌸

Further Reading:

Pink Moon: The Fascinating Full Moon of April 2023, The Peculiar Brunette

Pink Moon: Full Moon for April 2023, The Old Farmer's Almanac

Everyday Moon Magic: Spells & Rituals for Abundant Living, Dorothy Morrison

(If you’re enjoying my content, please feel free to drop a little something in the tip jar or check out my published works on Amazon or in the Willow Wings Witch Shop. 😊)

[siriusleee]

adamantine chains | part 7 & 8

"Amor et melle et felle est fecundissimus." "What does that mean?" "Love is rich with both honey and venom." "I suppose that is true." Or which in König finds you broken in the mountains. A (brief) retelling of Cupid and Psyche. König | Reader tags: pregnancy, unwanted/unplanned pregnancy, just vibing here a/n: have you ever written a story that has such an incredibly contrived plot because you didn't do enough planning at the beginning, but you can't stop until it's over. that's this story. but i'm just vibing with it. there are 2 more chapters (which i may post as one big one like i did this one). if you enjoy, subscribe to my ko-fi where i will be posting my writing updates, or donate to help me recuperate after buying so many damn school supplies. i also don't know how to do math, so my weeks are probably so off in this previous chapter | part one

For the first month König's gone, you throw yourself into helping Oma. The biting wind of winter threatens at the beginning of October, and everything needs to be cut back, dug up, covered in a thick canvas cloth to wait for next spring to reemerge. The dirt clings beneath your nails and at your knees - but it gives you something to do. 

Your camera sits on the bedside table in your room - you spend every night wrapped up in König's bed, breathing in the scent of him until it's nearly gone from the blankets. One day, folding laundry and putting it away you find his cologne tucked away in one of his drawers. You renew the house with the scent of him. 

Oma calls you the next day - the sound of the phone ringing wakes you from the nest of König's clothes you slept in. 

"Ja, Oma?"

"Bist du wach?"

"Ja, I awake. Are you alright?"

"Ich möchte, dass du vorbeikommst, wenn du Feierabend hast."

"Wie bitte? After work what do you need?"

On the other end of the line, Oma sighs - you know your slow grasp of the language frustrates her each day.

"After work, come over, please. I am cooking dinner."

"Ja, gnädige Frau. I will."

She doesn't say goodbye - a custom for her. You listen to the dial tone on the other end for a moment before letting the phone back down onto its hook. Your eyes are heavy and thick as you pad silently through the house, the cold floor making you shiver. Outside it's still dark - the sunrise only a hint on the horizon. 

Of course, Oma is awake. 

"It must be an old lady thing," you mutter to yourself, knowing that you'd never say it to her face. Your arms are covered in gooseflesh from the chill in the air - you rub yourself to try to keep warm. You're half in and half out of the hallway when you see why it's so cold - the front door is open and swaying in the early morning breeze.

"Fuck."

You slam the door shut and flick the lock but it sticks halfway in and out. It must not have latched completely last night and the wind blew it open - you think for a moment that you need to tell König to see if he can fix it. With a sigh, you shove the door harder. You'll have to fix it yourself. It takes a bit of strength, but you're able to get the lock into the right position - you won't be able to use it until it's fixed, but the backdoor will be fine. 

You think about going back to bed until it's time to wake up, but you know if you do, you'll just lay there for hours until it's time to get up. Instead you busy yourself cleaning, washing clothes that have piled up at the end of your bed, knowing that if König comes home and sees it, his nose will wrinkle - you've never met someone so obsessed with keeping their house spotless. 

 by the time you get ready for work, you're already worn out and tired, but you make sure to lock the backdoor behind you. 

***

"What is that smell?" You mutter to yourself, tying your apron around your waist. 

"Was?"

You look over at your co-worker, a sweet girl named Valentina, who smiles at you across the bar.

"You dont smell that?" You ask her; the air is filled with something that smells sickly sweet - reminiscent of rotting wood and dirt. Valentina shakes her head at you.

"It might be someone's," she mimes spraying herself, "Parfüm."

"Maybe."

It's your turn to do the cleaning - you do it without complaint, thankful of something to do, something to get you out of the house and away from the thought's of König and how upset he'd been at you about his mask. 

It's nearly noon and you're halfway through rubbing the chairs down with a disinfectant when Valentina calls you from the counter.

"Someone is asking about one of your photos."

A man with disheveled blonde hair stands at the counter, a print of yours in his hand. He looks not like he just rolled out of bed, but that he picked everything out to intentionally look like he just rolled out of bed. 

As you get closer you realize it's a print of König's shadow, rippling across a brick wall in the evening. The background is the town, lit up for night - nearly pastoral. 

"How much?" His accent is Western Europeanan, soft and lilting. 

"Oh -" You were expecting to have to try to figure out what to tell him in German, and his English catches you off guard. "Just however much you think it's worth. It's a pay what you think kind of thing."

You don't like the way he grins at you, sharp teeth almost predatory, but when he pushes a bill into your hands you take it from him. His hand lingers in yours, almost to warm before he pulls away.

"Thank you."

You watch the door swing shut behind him before looking down at the bill in your hands. A hundred euros. 

You raise it up at Valentina, who's eyebrows shoot up.

"Why would he give me this?"

"Maybe he thought you were cute."

"Gusch Valentina."

At the end of your shift you wave goodbye at Valentina. You're exhausted, much more than you usually are, and there's a dull ache at the bottom of your right foot; you want to call Oma and ask if you can reschedule, but you know she's got dinner waiting on you and you can't disappoint. 

On the ride it starts to sprinkle, and by the time you make it to her house, it's pouring outside, hard enough that you can barely see the road infront of you, but you make it, albeit slowly. You try to cover your head with your jacket as you run inside, rainwater filling your shoes.

"Oma; I'm here!"

The sound of silence and rain on the roof greets you. 

"Oma!"

"Komm mal her!"

You follow her voice to the kitchen, where there's already something boiling on the stove. Oma kisses you on each cheek, barking at you to sit down.

"Oma wie kann ich Ihnen helfen?"

"I do not need your help - just sit, you have been working all day."

You feel useless as she putters around, stirring whatever smells amazing on the stove, pulling bread out of the oven, filling a pitcher with water. 

She slides your plate across the table at you before taking a seat across from you. 

"Have you heard from König?"

You shake your head at her, ripping a piece of bread off.

"Nein. Not since he left."

"How long has it been?"

"Eight weeks, nine weeks. Something like that."

The two of you finish eating in silence - you're busy washing the dishes up for Oma when she speaks again.

"I have some friends who need help around their house. Old ladies who can't get things done like they used to. I told them about you - that you might want to earn some extra money and be out of the house while König is gone. It is not good for you to be alone all the time."

You dry the tines of the forks, your eyes trained on the rain falling roughly outside. 

"That would be nice, Oma. Thank you."

"Ja. I will let them know when you can."

"Danke, Oma."

You kiss her on the cheek good-bye and dash to the car, getting soaked for the second time that evening. 

Her figure, waving good-bye at you in the headlights, makes you want to run inside, ask her if you can stay the night. But you turn the key over in the ignition and drive home.

***

Oma's friends work you like a dog on your days off, barking at you in gentle German, pressing food into your hands whenever you leave. You have to start giving some of it to Valentina whenever you can, your work shirts getting a little tighter than you usually like. 

One of the women has you sorting seed packets when your cell rings; you hope for a second that it's König, calling to tell you he's home, but it's Oma. 

"You need to come to my house. Tonight. As soon as you can."

"Are you alright Oma?"

Her tone worries you - frantic and worried.

"Ja. You need to come. Do not forget."

She hangs up on you, leaving you staring at the screen. God, you wished König would come home, or even have given you an address to write him at - something. But he didn't; it worries you at night his silence, the fact that he's been gone longer than he had before and you've heard nothing. You reason with yourself that if something bad had happened someone would have called you.

Oma waits for you at the dinner table - the stove is empty and her expression is grim. Fear grips you for a moment: something has happened, and Oma was the one contacted. His body was dumped somewhere - this is happening to you again - this-

"You are pregnant."

Her words hit you viscerally, pulling you out of the dark the thoughts that whirled around you.

"Oma what the fuck!"

"Pass auf, was du sagst! Frau Müller said you threw up when she was cooking fish."

"It smelt horrific Oma, I'm not."

"You are going to argue with me? You have had no kids and I have had many."

You want to roll your eyes at her, but you fear her aim with a wooden spoon.

"Oma I think I would know."

"You would not because you have been to worried about König you haven't payed attention to anything. But I have - I know."

A new sort of panic sets in, a worry that she's right. 

"I will take you to the doctor tomorrow early. Do not go to work. Say you are sick."

"Oma you don't drive-"

"I know that - you will drive me."

You don't see a way out of this argument, out of this predicament. So you agree and walk out of the house in a daze. Halfway home, you have to pull of to throw up from worry.

***

You're frozen in the cold doctor's seat as he pulls the blood from the crook in your arm. You half catch the words that tumble between him and Oma; nod along at his clipped English, but you don't really pay any attention to him. 

His fingers are warm when he touches your shoulder, pulling you from the state you'd lost yourself in. 

"Three days."

Three days.

It had been nearly three months since König had left, and all you wished as you drove Oma back home was that you had a number to call him, some way to beg him to come home and take care of you. 

You don't even really know him.

The thought had bounced around your head since the night before, chasing away whatever sleep you'd been able to grasp. König's smell had already been washed away from the bedsheets, and it had just felt lonely in a way you hadn't felt in months. 

The entire thing was eating at you - you'd let a strange man sweep you into a fantasy and now there was a chance that he had you trapped with no alternative. Despite how good König had treated you, you still felt stupid for the entire thing.

But that didn't stop the elation you felt when you spotted the white envelope tucked into the doorjamb. Shuffling your purse and keys, you yank the folded up sheet of paper from the inside out. Smoothing it out as you step into the house, you slam the door shut with your foot and let your purse fall heavily to the floor.

König's heavy scrawl - like he's putting his entire weight behind the pen - covers the paper in chicken scratch.

I miss you. I will be home soon. Be good Taube.

Soon?

You can feel the panic rising inside of you; you'll have to tell him when he gets home. What if he's angry? Panic starts to constrict in your chest; you crumple König's letter up and shove it in your pocket. 

You can't think of this right now - the worry between wondering when König will come home and what the doctor might say is too much for you to handle right now.

You do your best not to think as you haul dusty cleaning supplies out from underneath the kitchen sink. The house had never been dirty; König was abnormally clean for a man his age and size. But there was nothing else to do - you had called off work for the doctor's appointment and you weren't sure if you could handle walking the shops.

So you immerse yourself in the process of cleaning. Beneath your fingers, a shine develops across the house that you hadn't seen before. Your back is cramping as you scrub the bathtub with a bristle brush; sweat pools in the small of your back. 

You even scrub the floor on your hands and knees, washing away the dirt that accumulated between the cracks in the tile. 

You throw yourself into cleaning until you fall into bed exhausted and for the first night in weeks you aren't plagued with dreams of your grandfather or König. But the restless panic starts again the moment you wake up, and you arrive at work three hours early.

Valentina looks at you with confusion across her face, but she doesn't say anything as you shake your head at her. Throwing your apron over your head, you speak without looking at her. 

"I'm going to organize the stockroom - I'll be out in a few hours."

It's different here - in the hot stock room with boxes stacked two deep and multiple highs. The panic is worse here, where the familiarity of the house isn't an innate comfort. But it's enough to keep you from checking your phone every five minutes to see if the doctor had called. 

You're not sure how long you're there before Valentina is calling your name.

"Are you going to keep working back there or are you going to come work the front with me?"

You trace your fingers across the sticker of an imported bag of coffee beans; you want to stay back here and hide away. You're worried that anyone will see it written across your face - the same way that Oma did. But you can't leave Valentina at the front alone for the rest of the shift.

"I'm coming!"

Wiping the sweat from your forehead, you duck out of the store room. It's cold up front - the air that had started to chill outside creeping in every time someone walked in. It's packed up front; you take over the line still not comfortable enough with your German to try to work the register. 

When the line starts to lull, you can see Valentina peering at you from the corner of her eye. You can see it bursting inside of her: the urge to ask you what's wrong. She's never been the type of person to keep herself from prying, but this time she manages to keep it to herself.

"I'm having a party this weekend if you want to come," she finally says, wiping the register down during a slow moment. "There won't be a lot of people there."

You force yourself to smile over at her, fingers paused in the act of scratching dried milk off of the counter. 

"That sounds fun."

"Would your - would König be coming?"

You keep your eyes trained on the dried milk, not looking over at her prying eyes. 

"I'm not sure. He should be home soon."

"How soon is soon?"

"Not sure."

After the two women who'd been in here bad mouthing König, you'd never bothered to ask him if anyone else in town knew what he did for a living - if anyone knew about his work in the military. He wouldn't have answered the question; but you could tell from how everyone said his name, how everyone looked at him when the two of you walked alongside each other, that they knew he did something they didn't want to know about.

You can hear it in the way Valentina speaks his name. She's being polite because she likes you, but she doesn't want König to show up.

You close the shop for the night, an hour after waving good-bye to Valentina as she disappeared around the corner. It's eerily silent as you count the change down, readying the drawer for the openers. You try to drag the last tasks as long as possible: sweeping behind the counter, putting new bags in the trash cans, but you can only drag it out for so long.

Your brain spirals again on the prospect of being pregnant - of having to explain to König what had happened. You try to script out the conversation in your head; a thousand different scenarios occupy your thoughts as you drive home. Each one ends in König storming out of the house, of you being forced to be alone.

You don't move for a moment as you park the car, the lights illuminating the glass in the window. You're halfway out the door, when a twitch at the window catches your attention- behind the curtain you can just make out the outline of someone waiting there. Your heart leaps, for just a moment you expect König to come bounding out the door.

But when the shadow moves towards the front door the overwhelming feeling that something is wrong washes over you. It's too small - too short to be your König. One foot is still poised in the car as you freeze. You scan the grass, looking for any sign that the giant truck that usually drops König off had cut through the grass earlier, but it's still pristine in the darkness. 

And König would have met you at work; he never let you drive at night when he was home. He'd never not come to meet you the moment he was home. 

The door cracks open - you don't know if it's a trick of your imagination or if whoever is in there is really coming out. In a blind panic you throw yourself back in the car, finger fumbling for the key to try to turn it on. Without looking back up at the door - scared of who you might see, you keep your eye focused on the steering wheel as the car comes to life beneath you and you slam the car into a turn.

As you straighten the wheel, you glance in the rearview mirror - a shadowed figure, just illuminated by your tail lights, peers at you from behind the front door.

[bbyquokka]

dress up!

pairing: kim seungmin x gender neutral reader

genre: fluff – MDNI

synopsis: seungmin isnt home, meaning you're bored, so you decide to play dress up! 

warnings: pet names, not proof-read  

words: 1.2k ~ (1253)

☆ m.list — ☆ you can also read it on my ao3

dont repost. dont translate. minors, ageless & default blogs; dni! feedback and reblogs are highly advised and appreciated!

“will you be ok, yn?” 

“i'll be fine minnie. don't worry about me. you go and have fun with felix and innie!” 

“are you sure? because i can always stay home an–” you cut him off by kissing him sweetly, laughing at his slightly shocked expression. 

“a million percent sure. go! have fun with them and make sure you eat plenty, my darling.” seungmin hums, his eyebrow raised slightly.

“mhmm. fine fine.” he laughs, walking to the entryway. you watch him put on his shoes and coat. spring is just around the corner meaning the weather is getting warmer and that seungmin doesn't have to bother wearing his winter coat and boots anymore.

he zips up his jacket before turning to face you. he holds your waist gently, that smirk that you love so much plastered on his face. you giggle, feeling yourself getting flustered as seungmin pulls you flush against his body.

“are you sure you're going to be ok baby?” he asks for the millionth time. you giggle as you interlock your fingers behind his neck.

“i'll be fine minnie. it's only for a few hours anyways! you go have fun with felix and innie. go play some games and eat some food. you all deserve it, you've worked hard.”

“mhm.” seungmin hums, gently rocking you both side to side before nuzzling his face into the crook of your neck. “i'm going to miss you.” his voice muffled against your skin, breath fanning against it gently. you let out a soft laugh, raking your fingers through his soft hair.

“you'll only be gone for a couple of hours darling.”

“i know but i want to stay by your side for eternity.”

“and you will minnie. you're mine and i am yours, forever and always.”

“forever and ever?”

“for eternity. we will grow old together, adopt many cats and dogs and when we pass, we will be reborn and meet each other in another life.”

seungmin pulls away from your neck before pressing his lips against yours. the kiss is sweet, laced with love with each movement from you both. you hum softly, feeling yourself melt into the kiss. you press your body firmly against his as an attempt to get closer to him.

“minnie..” you sigh softly as you feel his lips trail down your jawline to your neck. he peppers soft kisses on the skin, occasionally sucking. “you have to leave or you'll be late..”

“few more minutes.”

“you don't have a few more minutes. you'll be late. innie will shout at you, we all know how he doesn't like people being late.”

seungmin lets out a deep groan as he pulls away. you giggle softly, fixing his hair before kissing his cheek gently.

“you're right. you're always right.” you hum, giving him a smug look to which he laughs and rolls his eyes at. “yeah yeah. i'll be off baby. i'll text you as much as i can baby!”

“don't worry about me Minnie, i'll be fine. go have funnn!” 

“yes yes. goodbye darling.” you wave seungmin off, watching him walk out and close the door behind him. you grin to yourself as you rush to the kitchen. you grab your secret stash of snacks and candy (you love seungmin but you don't want to share everything with him) before plopping yourself onto the sofa. you turn on the tv to indulge in your favourite series you've been catching up on.

you manage to watch two fifty minute episodes before getting bored. you let out a hefty sigh, the feeling of missing your beloved slowly creeping up on you.

“i'm bored..” you mumble to yourself, looking around the room. you don't fancy playing games or browsing social media. you know what you want, but the person you want to do it with, isn't here right now.

you grab your phone and open up Instagram to see a selfie of seungmin, felix and Jeongin all together captioned with “going to beat these losers 😈” you laugh to yourself, liking the picture before shuffling off the sofa.

you walk to the wardrobe of your shared bedroom, flinging open the doors. you smile to yourself as you pull seungmin's infamous grey hoodie with the red heart, off the rack. you hold it close to your chest, inhaling his scent. a wave of warmth washes over your body, making you feel less lonely.

you strip yourself down to your underwear, throwing on his hoodie. you embrace how soft it feels. how comfortable and warm it feels on your naked skin. his musk yet gentle sent tickling your nostrils, making your mind cloud over with nothing but thoughts of your lover.

you grab his grey sweats, the same sweats he wears on his lazy days to lounge around in at home. you put his sweats on before looking in the mirror and giggling to yourself. you look ridiculous, but you feel so warm, so loved. like he is with you at this moment.

you miss him. it's only been a few hours but you miss him so much. you're so used to having him by your side, surprising you with kisses and hugs from behind. sitting on the sofa and commenting on the series you may be watching. 

“gosh, i hope you're home soon minnie.” you mumble to yourself, pulling the sleeves of the hoodie over your hands.

you drag your feet to the living area, plopping down on the sofa as you grab your phone. you browse Instagram once again in hopes of seeing any updates from the boys–but nothing. you sigh softly, throwing your phone to the side of you. your ears perk up at the sound of the front door opening.

you spring up onto your feet, rushing over to seungmin. he looks at you with wide eyes before laughing softly as you collide into his chest. you nuzzle into him, the fresh air and café food has left a distinct smell on his clothing that lingers in your nostrils.

“hi baby.” 

“minnie.” you hum, clinging onto his coat.

“missed me?”

“how can you tell?” you look up at him through your lashes. he grins, kissing your forehead gently.

“well, i haven't managed to take my shoes and coat off yet, darling.”

“mhm, maybe a little then.”

“just a little?” he says with a raised brow and a slight smirk 

“ok ok. a lot.” you pout, pulling away to give him chance to settle in. “i thought you'd be gone longer, minnie.”

“well, after all the gaming and food, we all kind of got tired. plus, i couldn't bear spending any more minutes away from you.”

“oh hush.” you mumble, cheeks turning red slowly. seungmin looks at you up and down before laughing softly.

“you must have missed me so much, baby, to dress up in my clothing.”

you flush bright red as you feel a wave of shyness wash over you. you shift your weight from one foot to the other as you play with the sleeves of the hoodie.

“yeah.. i did. plus, your clothing looks so comfortable so i had to try it on.” you pout.

“had to? or want to?” 

“both.” you giggle as seungmin laughs before ruffling your hair. “what do you think?” you grin, giving seungmin a little twirl. he laughs softly as he watches you, humming and nodding his head as he admires his clothing on you.

“you look adorable baby. my clothing really suits you. I think you should dress up some more.”

note: part of starry's treasure trove!

i know it's been a while since the last fic but im coming up to the last month of my uni studies (until i have to do it all over again, yay) may is my most important and nerve-wracking month so im a lil occupied & stressed :)))) when its all over, then i will have a lot of free time to read and write! thank you for being patient with me :'( 🖤

don’t forget to leave feedback, reblog and tell me what you think here. curious as to what is next? here is my wips list! i hope you all enjoy! ‹3

tags (open): @sstarryoong ; @septicrebel ; @bbujiikseu ; @cixrosie ; @alyszaen ; @writerracha ; @hyunluvxo ; @aestheticsluut ; @xcookiemonsteer

[kayakoto-enterprises]

🛌 - do you and your f/o sleep in the same bed? if you do, do you have a favorite and least favorite thing about sleeping together?

🎇 - do you and your f/o have a favorite holiday to celebrate together? what is it? do you have different holidays you like celebrating?

🥧 - have you and your f/o tried to bake something together? how did it go? what did you make?

Hai hai wrennnn I'm on lunch break so lemme run through these <3. Thank you!

🛏: Julianne initially bought a bigger bed. She was already hoping she'd settle in with someone while she stayed in Woodbrook. Her persuing Sam only came after they developed a friendly acquaintanceship so in terms of any sleeping arrangements, Julianne was more than ready.

SINGLE METAL BED FRAME😭😭😭 Initially Sam and Julianne just sleep on the floor or couch together because there's no way THAT will accomodate them both so they prefer sleeping over at Julianne's apartment. I dunno. Even into the relationship, Sam has the mindset that they'll eventually end up as an expendature she can move on from. But sometimes you just get so numb and powerless you buy another metal bedframe to connect the other to and she can finally sleep over at your house more.

I get so emotional over beds and sleeping arrangements!! It circles back to Stuffed Animal where Lesley doesn't need to sleep since she's already a doll and The Illustrator does. It's more on tapping into each other's humanity and recognizing that living beings need adequate rest and a comfortable bed to sleep in..for House Guest it's improving those living conditions or having set them already because you care enough for your partner to rest well. Julianne didn't plan on dating Sam on day one but it's probably coinscidence and a pattern she got a bigger bed not knowing how big her partner will be eventually.

Ahh them sleepin together is super comfortable but they have pet peeves about how the other sleeps. Julianne is an active dreamer and squirms, rolls, kicks, or bumps in her sleep. She also sometimes just Doesn't Sleep and starts kneading on Sam's arm. It's especially annoying when they both have work the next day and one ends up with a sore arm and one's barely alive at 2 pm.

Sam is Perpetually Warm and it's great when it's fall or it's winter but it's Bad during the Summer especially around June (for. Reasons.) Around that time she's extra physical and handsy so Julianne who's usually a hot sleeper finds it a bit annoying. Sam also hogs the blankets which would be fine most times but it's bad timing after exercise or during the winter. They both enjoy everything else so nothing here is that big of a deal.

🎆: Ohhh it's between Christmas and this springtime fair Woodbrook hosts!! Christmas reminds Julianne of her home since they like to celebrate Christmas big, and she's just lucky to celebrate Christmas with someone on her first year!! Let alone her crush!! As for the fair, in the Philippines, schools have spring fairs from February to March. One that's prominent is the Antipolo Fair I attend quite often so Woodbrook having a smaller scale version would be fun. I imagine in that one month Sam and Julianne didn't talk, it happened just outside Julianne's apartment. She people-watches from her window, her eyes obviously searching for someone. In the next year they go together as a date!!

🥧: I used to bake a lot during the pandemic lockdown so I think Julianne likes baking but now just doesn't have time. She bakes pies, cakes, some local recipes, but she mostly bakes cookies for Sam during the pining stage. It's fairly easy to do in between work and you can keep the batter in the fridge for days plus it keeps its shape in the oven when refridgerated. They have tried making sourdough together early into the relationship after Julianne attempts it and it goes awry. It's another fic idea simmering because sourdough is such a hard bread to bake and I get intimidated by most bread recipes. I dunno. Maybe it means something somewhere hehe

[litcest]

The Innocents, by Michael Crummey

There was I, one fine afternoon, reading Henry James' The Turn of the Screw and started wondering if anyone had ever done an incestuous re-write of the novel. I found none, but what I did find was that there was a movie adaptation (by Truman Capote) in 1961 with the title of The Innocents. This movie shares the title with a 2019 novel by Michael Crummey, which DOES have brother-sister incest.

I went to check the book on Goodreads and found out that @shipcestuous had it on her shelf, and from this I found an ask she got just a month ago with some book recs. Everything is connected.

The book, narrated in the third person, follow the lives of Ada and Evered Best, siblings who lose their parents at an young age and have to take control of the family's fishing enterprise in a remote beach. The novel is set around the 19th century and so the siblings have little contact with the outside world other than the ship that visits them twice an year to collect their goods.

In a secluded cove on the shores of Newfoundland, in a recent past, lived a family. One winter, in quick succesion, the newborn dies, followed by the mother and then the father. And so, siblings Ada and Evered are left to fend for themselves.

"And he to bawling with her then, the two helpless youngsters holding on to one another in the pitch."

"For weeks after their father died the youngsters did little but sleep, lying in bed all hours for the warmth, for the comfort of the other's breathing beside them."

Evered hunts and fishes, while Ada takes care of the house and cooks. Winter turns to spring, and The Hope,cargo boat, comes to the cove, as it did every year. The siblings tell the Captain their parents have died, and the Captain tries to explain how the enterprise works: Evered's father caught fish and gave to the Captain, who in turn gave them supplies. The Captain wasn't sure that the two kids could deliver the amount of fish necessary to cover the costs of the supplies, and tries to convince the kids to go to the town and look for a job there. Ada, however, doesn't want to leave the grave of their dead baby sister (who she insists that she can talk to) and refuses to go.

Evered menages to persuade the Captain into giving them one season to try it out. The season is not much of a success, but it's good enough that Evered and Ada decide to keep trying to make it work, even though they are getting into debt.

"'You managed fine, Brother', she said. 'You done good.' 'Don't you ever leave me,' he said out of nowhere' 'Why would I do the like of that?' 'Just don't.'"

Two years go by, and a storm blows a shipwreck into the cove. The siblings explore and collect material, and Ada gets new shoes. They are two right feet, but she's happy anyway.

"She threw her arms around Evered's neck and they jumped up and down in each other's arms."

Another event of this year was Ada getting her first period. She gets grumpy about it, ignoring Evered and lashing out at him (PMS is a bitch). What I found particularly interesting about this chapters is that, to hide the bleeding, "they slept in separate beds for the next five nights". Which means that, despite they having a spare bed (the one that their parents slept in), they were still choosing to sleep together for the past two years. And, when Ada's bad mood (and blood) has passed, they go back to sleeping together.

"They talked through the black or looked to the other's warmth for comfort, gravitating to the familiar body beside them. One night, half-asleep and adrift in that liminal space, Ada hooked a leg across Evered's hip and they nudged into one another."

Also worth mentioning is Evered's masturbatory habits. He doesn't quite know what he's doing, but he knows he feels pleasure from touching himself, and that it results in a "hot spill pumping across his hand and stomach". And yes, he does it in the bed he shared with Ada, until one night, still half asleep, Ada turns towards him and wraps her legs around his torso.

"They tucked into the heat of her, Ada lifting her leg across his hips and rocking against him. And he was suddenly, vibrantly awake. He leaned into the heat of her, barely moving, letting Ada work against him, moving his hand to the small of her back to add weight to that drowsy agitation. The didn't speak or acknowledge one another at any point and Evered thought it was possible she was dreaming, that she was insensible to the waking world the entire time they were engaged."

Are they dry humping? I'm not going to lie, I'm not going to lie, the book is sometimes hard to understand. It's very poetic and I struggled to get the meaning behind the vomit of words that were on the pages. It made me feel very stupid and like my reading comprehension had gone to shit. Whatever that was, the event goes by unmentioned, as neither sibling wants to talk about it.

"It was the one intimacy that everything between the siblings seemed a prelude to. But some hesitation had always stopped them short, a shared vertigo that stayed them at the edge."

In the summer, Ada goes to bath herself in a clear water pool in the hills around the house, and Evered spies on her, admiring how her body had developed.

"A woman's body he was looking at and he was embarrassed to be watching as if it was a stranger standing in the brook below him."

Ada sees him watching and he goes away, but as she cleans herself, she thinks of "sleeping beside Evered [...] as if her body was a having a thought all on its wordless lonesome."

Their routine comes to a halt when Evered gets sick after making a delivery to the ship. He passes the sickness onto Ada, who becomes gravely ill.

In a struck of good luck, sea Captain Truss and Mrs. Brace happen upon the cove. They nurse the siblings back to full health, and when Ada first wakes up from her feverish dreams, her first word is "Brother".

Truss also teaches Evered how to hunt with a firearm, so the siblings can have more supplies in the winter. When inquired on whether he feels lonely in the cove, Evered says that he has Ada and so he isn't alone.

During this time, Evered and Ada listen as Truss and Mrs. Brace have sex and Ada recognizes the sounds as similar to the ones Evered makes when he thinks she's asleep.

"Something in it reminded her of the hitch in Evered's breathing during the solitary ministrations she pretended to sleep through. Of her brother ferreting through her small clothes to find the place she was the warmed and wet, her hips rising to his hand as he figured the works of her."

After Truss goes back to his ship, Evered begins to plan an expedition to further explore the hills around the cove, as they had never gone too far from the shore, and also so he hunt bigger animals. Ada wants to go along, but Evered tells her it's better for her to stay and take care of the house. Ada is not stupid and knows that her brother is being distant, he has been since before Truss' arrival.

"She missed her brother, missed the easy physical affection that had been the only constant source of comfort in her life."

The night before Evered leaves for his expedition, Ada waits for him to lay in bed beside her and then begins to touch him, jerking him off. Evered later comments that the gesture seemed like punishment of short, for him not taking her along.

"She placed her hand on Evered’s hip behind her and then down between them, finding her way to bare skin. He put an arm around her waist and moved to reach under her shift but she grabbed it with her free hand. She did not want to be touched. Or to turn toward him or to speak. She moved against the rigid bit of gristle in her hand, working toward that hitch in his breath, that spastic release."

Hunting turns out to be a good deal for the siblings and when The Hope comes to deliver their goods, they gain extra by selling pelts of the animals they had killed.

The next strange event is the arrival of John Warren onto the cove. He comes knocking in the sibling's door, having heard of the so called "Orphan Cove" and wanting to lumber there. At first, Warren mistake Ada and Evered for a couple, asking if they are wedded, which leaved Ada "mortified".

Warren lates asks Ada whether she feels alone, and her answer is similar to the one Evered had given Truss.

"She shook her head. 'I got Evered,' she said. 'He been good to me.'"

Warren and his crew leave, with Evered and Ada once again returning to their routine. The text time The Hope comes around, the Captain asks if Ada has ever considered marrying, as the men in town are lacking women. Evered asks Ada whether she has ever considered marrying and she says that she doesn't want to do that.

That winter, a terrible storm blows in while Evered is out fishing, and for a moment, Ada assumes he has drowned. He does make it back to shore, completely soaked through, and she takes him to the house, stripping him off the wet clothes and setting him by the fire. Then Ada removes her own clothes, as she too got wet from searching for him and straddles him for ~warmth~. This obviously leads to them having sex.

The next morning, there's an awkwardness in the air, with neither sibling knowing quite how to deal with the intimacy they had shared.

"And she couldn’t settle with any satisfaction how to feel about what happened between she and Evered, about how it unfolded or if it was all her doing somehow."

Even though they had only had penetrative PiV sex once, Ada finds herself pregnant, in a strike of bad luck akin to Cathy Dollanganger's. I know it's possible to get pregnant from just one unprotected encounter, but god, are this incestuousr girlies unlucky.

Ada realises she is pregnant when she stops getting her "monthly visitor", but isn't quite sure how she got that way. At first, she hides it from Evered, but when her belly gets big enough, he starts to suspect that Ada got pregnant because Warran had made her his wife. Ada and Warren never had sex, by the way, the just apent a lot of time alone because Warren thought of her as a surrogate daughter and wanted to keep are away from his sailors.

As the distance between the siblings grows bigger, Evered suggests that they should leave the cove and go to the town, where he can find a job and Ada can get married.

Just as The Hope appears on the horizon, Ada enters in labor and Evered helps her deliver the child.

"He nodded though his expression didn’t change. "I don’t know what to do," he said. "What do I do?" "Just don’t leave me," she said."

The child is named Martha, after they deceased baby sister, whom Ada believed might have reincarnated into her daughter. Then, in one of the most anticlimactic endings ever, the books ends, as Evered places the new-born on Ada's chest and the ship approaches at distance.

[queenlucythevaliant]

Once, Always

(Edmund has an abundance of birthdays)

 .

“I say,” murmured Edmund sleepily as the fire burned low. “When do you suppose it is here? I mean—what time of year? Do you think it’s the beginning of September, the same as it was in England?”

“Summer,” said Lucy. “Certainly summer.”

Peter agreed. “I think it must be Highgrass, if I had to guess. Perhaps later. Greenroof?”

“If it’s Greenroof, then Edmund gets another birthday,” Lucy sighed. “Eleven or twelve, Ed?”

“Neither,” put in Susan. “A thousand, if you’re going to rationalize it that way. Now everyone hush, please, and get some sleep.”

.

Edmund’s birthday was the fifteenth day of Greenroof by the Narnian reckoning. Greenroof, late summer, when all the leaves were dark and broad. Narnian summers were long, but Greenroof was the last and best of the summer months. Greenroof was hunts through the dense foliage, blackberries heavy with juice, lazy afternoons, bonfires, wild romps, and the pleasant kind of sweat. Edmund’s birthday celebrations were always held on Dancing Lawn in the old days: the sort of long, laughter-bright nights that summer was made for.

. 

The second time Edmund celebrated his eleventh birthday, it was just past three months since he and his siblings had returned home from the country. Their house was glass-strewn and battered, but still standing when they arrived home. By August it was beginning to feel really safe again, but sometimes Edmund still woke in the night to find his mother standing silent in the doorway, drinking in the sight of her two sons returned to her.

The professor sent one of Ivy’s famous spice cakes for Edmund’s birthday. It arrived tied in red string, which made Lucy reminisce fondly about dear Mr. Tumnus. Edmund’s siblings pooled their allowances to buy him the new Nero Wolfe detective novel, and his mother gave him a new cap and an electric torch.

“How do you feel?” his mother asked over dinner.

“I don’t feel any older, if that’s what you mean,” he said. “Eleven feels just the same as ten did yesterday.”

. 

All four of them missed their birthdays the first year in Narnia. Too much else was going on at the time, and none of them was quite sure when their birthdays were supposed to be besides. The measurement of time was a thoroughly tangled issue.

The Narnian year had four hundred days even, divided into fourteen months of inconsistent lengths. Furthermore, the kingdom had only known winter for the last hundred years. The Narnians themselves were still remembering how the calendar worked in a world where the seasons changed. They didn’t have the words yet to explain it to their sovereigns.

. 

“Eustace,” said Edmund, “your journal is wrong.”

“Give me that,” Eustace scowled at once. “I know it’s wrong, but there’s no need to rub my face in it. Aren’t I trying to make up for how I was?”

“No, no, that’s not what I meant. The month is wrong. You’ve got September written here, but time works differently in Narnia than it does in the Other Place. Haven’t you noticed that it’s summer, not autumn?”

“Oh.” Eustace shrugged. “I followed Occam’s Razor and assumed that the climate here was different rather than time itself.”

“Occam’s what?” This was Lucy.

“Occam’s Razor: the simplest solution to a problem is the most likely—never mind. Well, go on, what month is it?”

“Highgrass,” said Lucy.

“July,” said Edmund at the same moment. “More or less.”

 .

They worked it all out one afternoon as the second spring of their reign was ending. Peter and Susan wrote out the English calendar on one stack of parchment while Edmund and Lucy sat down with the Narnian calendar and penciled in seasonal markers as best they could manage.

“The first crocuses came up right at the end of Cleardome, yes?”

“Yes, I think so. And the snowdrops were in their full glory that month too.”

“How do you want to deal with leap year?”

“Just forget about it. Narnia doesn’t have anything similar, so I think twenty-eight days for February is fine for our purposes.”

“Magnolia in Laceveil, yes?”

“Laceveil is a good marker in general. We ought to set that as May and go from there.”

Birthdays were guesses, no matter how much counting they did. Yet as memories of England receded and Narnia’s world blossomed into everything they knew, those guesses solidified into fact. Edmund turned eleven for the first time on the fifteenth day of Greenroof. He was the first of his siblings to celebrate a proper birthday in Narnia.

. 

The fourth time Edmund turned twelve, he received another electric torch to replace the one he’d lost. He laughed for half a minute, holding that gift in his hand.

“Really, you should have expected it,” said Susan primly.

"I did."

Their mother tsked and added something about keeping track of one’s belongings, but that was alright. His siblings understood.

Edmund flicked on the light and watched the beam land on the far wall across the living room. Bright at the edges and dark towards the center where the bulb was. He moved his wrist sideways and watched the spot of light follow.  

. 

Edmund might have forgotten about his birthday aboard the Dawn Treader if Lucy hadn’t remembered. She conspired with the cook to have a spread of Edmund’s favorite foods at supper (such as could be managed at sea) and coerced Rynelf into playing jigs on his fiddle afterwards. While they were dancing, Caspian called for a cask of his best wine, and soon the ship’s whole company was making merry like only Narnians could.

“Didn’t you have a twelfth birthday the last time you were in Narnia?” Caspian asked curiously as the party was dying down.

“Yes,” Edmund replied, “and the time before that too. Confused yet?”

“Ed has all the luck,” Lucy pouted playfully. “We always seem to return to Narnia in the summer, so he gets all the extra birthdays.”

Caspian's face lit up. “How extraordinary! When’s yours then?”

“Cleardome. There’s a year and a half between Ed and me, and he never lets me forget it.”

“It’s really not as exciting as all that,” Edmund added. “We’re not living our lives backwards, or unstuck in time, or any such nonsense. It’s more like—our lives are folded in on themselves, you see? But never the same way twice.”

“I think it’s more like music than anything else,” Lucy said, a kind of fond wistfulness in her voice.

“Yes,” said Edmund. “I know what you mean.”

. 

On the thirteenth of Greenroof, the Telmarines laid down their arms and surrendered to Old Narnia. The next day, messengers were sent forth across the land with news of the surrender and with terms for the Telmarines. Caspian’s coronation followed, and then Edmund woke and it was his birthday again.

Breakfast that morning was long and languid, for Peter and Susan knew that they must say farewell to Narnia, even if the younger ones did not. They lingered round the table with Caspian and Trumpkin and the rest, and presently Peter offered a toast.

“To my brother King Edmund, who is eleven and twelve and sixty-three and thirteen hundred years old today.”

Everyone raised their cups and repeated, “King Edmund.” Caspian nodded and added, “Long live the king,” with an almost ironic tilt to his head.

Naturally, Edmund nodded back. “And to you, King Caspian. Long may you reign.”

Another round of assent followed, and then Lucy cleared her throat. “But also,” she said, “To late summer and the rebirth of Our Narnia. And to the land, the sea, the hills, the trees, the sky, Cair Paravel-by-the-sea and Dancing Lawn and all the flowers that are still in bloom. And to the color green. To all of us here today, and to those who are gone. And to Aslan.”

“Here, here.”

There were tears in Susan’s eyes now. “Happy birthday,” she whispered, and squeezed Edmund’s hand tight. Edmund looked down at his plate, fiercely overcome with love for this place and these people. In a strict, chronological sense, it had been less than a month since his last birthday, but how did the saying go? Time was just a tangled string, or falling snow, or whatever else Aslan told it to be.

. 

“Bother,” said Edmund, “I’ve left my new torch in Narnia.”

Everyone chuckled at this, but Susan said, “Wait a year. We’ll get you a new one for your next birthday.”

[aguamarinee]

hey ! i would like to request a fluffy jo drabble/one-shot, write anything u want i don't really have a specific request 😆 pls take your time dont worry <3

➪ 𝐀/𝐍.: I wasn't planning on making this into a oneshot (I mean it kind of happened anyway and I'm not mad at it), but I felt like I should do justice since I put off this request for so long, I'm so sorry anon!! I tried making it extra sweet for Jo, and thank you for requesting this, even if I was pretty slow with it! But truly, this was a perfect idea for my first Jo fic! <3

➪ 𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: Jo × reader

➪ 𝐆𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: fluff all the way, established relationship, female reader

➪ 𝐒𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: Just a journey to home, and its many companions until the final destination.

➪ 𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬: 1,2k

Your day came to an end at last. You left work a bit later than you anticipated but it was fine, it was fine if you'll be home in no time, already imagining the comfort of your house capturing you.

You exited your workplace, looking back at the glass doors which you could see through clearly in every season, like the purest crystals, and also the place where you stood made you remember all the times Jo came in front of your workplace to get you. To comfort you after a tiring day just by his mere presence.

No matter how many times, he always managed to be adorably awkward as if he wasn't picking up his girlfriend from work for the hundredth time.

You remembered his excited smile during spring, his flushed, red cheeks and ears caused by the cold air in winter, his slightly sweaty forehead in summer, and that big scarf around his neck when you were deep in autumn.

You passed a couple of streets, treading the young evening roads between houses, locking eyes on the same restaurants and cafés every time, even if you've been to some of them. With Jo.

You always liked to walk a bit to enjoy the environment around you any given time, even if you would know the place like the back of your hand, it felt all the better; thinking you're familiar with a part of a city so much you know every nook and cranny of its lane.

...All the better, also because memories tied you to them, different but equally precious memories.

When you finally reached the bus stop it wasn't a long wait until you got on, found a seat next to the window, and let go of yourself since you were traveling until the last stop.

You went for the window seats always, it made you appreciate every sight again, so it was natural.

You sat on this bus with Jo many times as well, he would always let you be next to the glass since he was more endeared by your sight than the city's.

He never said a word, and let you go on, to ramble about anything that came to mind.

You knew the stops by heart by now, murmuring them in the quietest way possible, tasting the pronunciation on your lips again and again, smiling dumbly about their names, and enjoying the long minutes until your stop was due.

The bus passed through a small tunnel that suddenly clouded your vision from the window but it made you even more excited, this meant you were halfway there.

It was Friday, you didn't have to go to work tomorrow and neither did Jo, so you knew the two of you will have a peaceful off day in the morning and you wanted nothing more.

After the tunnel you saw the huge park that was the favorite place of all the locals since it had everything in it; small playground areas for kids, long grassy trails for dogs, relaxing spots with tables and benches, big picnic zones, and a main square of some sorts with a big fountain and a water tower beside it.

It was like its own little island in the middle of the city, although it was completely connected by roads and streets, everyone loved it so much since it had everything to offer.

After the park, there came a small residential area, with several blocks of houses usually for families or young adults. It was a busy district but it was nice and lively thanks to the neighbors from all around the houses.

You remembered this specifically because during your last years of university and your early days of working and starting to date Jo, you used to live in one of these apartments.

You could never miss the complex owner's efforts in planting new trees around and doing everything to make the neighborhood more liveable, succeeding big time and attracting more and more residents.

You moved out because with time your relationship with Jo deepened and eventually the two of you settled on living together in another district, a bit further away from everything you just crossed.

But it was alright, you loved exploring the new area with Jo, and it made you happy that you will be still able to see all your past places where you left your memories behind.

...Slowly, but finally you arrived in front of your house.

The bus dropped you off and from the other side of the road, you already saw the big block of apartments which you were supposed to go in and find your own.

You've been living here for a while now with Jo, everything was nice, you never had the slightest idea to complain but all of it still felt new somehow. You had yet to feel that knowing inkling of nostalgia when you come around this neighborhood but this wasn't a bother to you, more like a hopeful feeling, something to achieve and look forward to. Hoping that you get to spend more weeks, months, or even years here together with Jo to grow just as accustomed to these circumstances as to the previous ones.

Because of memories and traditions following through all your life.

You shuffled around for your keys, the familiar dangling soon hitting your ears, sticking it into the lock, and just seconds after the well-known click of the door greeted you as well.

You stepped inside inhaling the comforting scent of your shared apartment, dropping your handbag temporarily on a hanger, stripping your outer coat and your shoes off to walk into the living room.

You sniffed again and that's when a foreign smell hit you, which wasn't the dainty lavender air freshener you bought a week ago.

"Hi, you finally arrived." Jo peeked from the opening of the stylish American kitchen with a cute smile, taking in your form on the last day of the week. He was cooking rice, you were sure, but this time you didn't pry and let him prepare dinner all he wanted.

So you just stood near him as he took a step closer to kiss your forehead, careful not to touch you too much since he was cooking and messed up his hand a bit, but his affection was there.

You smiled, reciprocating his action with a peck on his cheeks then looking back into his eyes.

"You're home," He said softly. "and we have a relaxing weekend in front of us, just the two of us." He announced proudly but you already knew that, so you almost ignored his second statement.

"...Yes, I'm home, with you." You gazed at him with adoration and love, every day he was the last piece missing from your daily puzzle, to complete any workday.

"What?" Jo asked back a bit surprised, a blush creeping onto his ears.

"I was just thinking about this all day, all week. I feel at home with you. I'm glad we decided to live together, Jo." You confessed out of the blue with a genuine smile almost stretching beyond your eyes and he just gave a shy laugh — but you knew it was the pure sound of his love, a confession of how he felt about you —, before he clumsily scooted away, back to the kitchen to produce a successful dinner. All the while you walked back to get your bag, took it to your room, and started to change, accepting another working week's end and getting into a comfortable mood with the lazy days coming up.

➪ 𝐨𝐩𝐞𝐧 【𝐌 𝐀 𝐒 𝐓 𝐄 𝐑 𝐋 𝐈 𝐒 𝐓】 !

[pearl-blue-musings]

all the right moves

Pairing: Childe x fem!afab!reader smau and written

Warnings: 18+, modern/business au, adult situations, angst

Word count: 704

Taglist open

prologue

March, 199x

You woke up from an after school nap to an array of sounds. Your young mind struggled to comprehend what was happening. You heard your mom yelling and crying at your father, and in your sleep induced hazed you only caught glimpses of what was being said.

“… be so stupid!

“Sold the whole company?! Did you… read the contract…?!

“…dumbass! We have no money!”

That one caught you off guard. You hurried downstairs and was shocked by what you saw. Your dad at the table, fingers crossed and a solemn expression on his face. Your mother, standing and huffing with one hand on a suitcase. You bite your lip before making your presence known.

“M-mommy,” you stammer, “where are you going?”

You miss what was said by her yelling and your fathers forced silence. There was a ringing in your ear that didn’t help your young mind either. You saw your mother yelling and shivering with either fear or anger, you weren’t sure which. But you do remember the sound of the door slamming as you tried to chase her out the door. Maybe it was for the best that you didn’t see your mother drive off, as it would’ve been painful for the both of you. For that you were thankful she spared both of your feelings.

You slowly walked back to your father and shook him as hard as you could. “Dad, daddy what’s going on?” From the whole exchange, that was the first time you had heard him speak. Although to you it made no sense and sounded pretty broken, similar to how your mother sounded.

“…she had outsmarted me…

“I should’ve looked at the fine print.

“They run…all of it…

“The Harbingers…Snezhnaya…took all of it…

“Tsaritsa…”

The cold you felt from the low words spoken from your father and your mother walking out on the two of you makes the winter in Teyvat seem like spring. You watched in childlike emptiness as your dad dried his tears and walked through the motions of preparing and consuming dinner, to putting you to bed. The light in his eyes never truly returned. Not the next day, the next week, the next month, or the next few years. The man you once knew was no longer available to you. It was as if you lost two parents instead of just one.

For the years to follow, you did everything you could to help your father attempt to become the man he once was. With your mother walking out, losing the business to some bigger company (with sketchy means and falsities you later discovered), you tried to help make life easier for everyone around you. You took extra part time jobs throughout high school, which made you lose out on the socialization a teenager needs to grow. But all you had on your mind was getting your family back on the ground. As you got older, your father opened up about the business world and showed you the surface level of what had happened. But that wasn’t enough. You needed to know more, to get to the bottom of it.

So you researched. When you weren’t working, you were looking into this woman called the Tsaritsa,what kind of company Snezhnaya is, who the Harbingers are…It’s all intriguing. They're just a large conglomerate, swallowing up other large companies to achieve, what? What is their main goal? You also looked into the aftermath of those companies being swallowed up and how it has affected those lives. You see that there are similar stories like yours, ruined lives, upheaval from their homes, broke or close to bankruptcy. There’s no way this company can get away with this!

And yet, they have. So instead of pursuing what you wanted to originally, you went into business and are now going for your MBA. It wasn’t such a straight shot, after all you still had to work your way through school. All the while, your heart grew cold, frozen like ice as your hatred for the words your father whispered in hushed whimpers fueled you. Despite your success in your field, it was all to get your family back,

And bring down this so called Tsaritsa

Taglist: @zireaels-igni @mrskreideprinz

[bizarrelittlemew]

clenching my fists tighter and tighter while listening to this year by the mountain goats because so far:

(i'll apparently list this as extremely bad - more trivial - extremely fucking bad)

my sister nearly bled to death from a surgical wound (very routine surgery too)

our savings are constantly being drained by 1) enormous energy bills last winter, and 2) replacing everything that just keeps breaking, first it was kitchen appliances now garden tools?? and 3) stupid sewer work documentation that should've been in order 3 years ago before we moved in but which we now need to pay for too and they discovered stuff that means ANOTHER big bill within the next 3-5 years, constantly setting us back on the projects we want to do

i'm getting worse and worse and yeah finally going to the doctor for it (but like taking two whole months off work in the spring didn't help, hope something else will)

feel like i'm getting nowhere with the phd (normal halfway-through experience i think but still) and every time i try to do something it goes nowhere and gets rejected so now i've just. stopped making an effort and don't know how to come back from that

and now yesterday we learned my mom has incurable cancer and i can't even describe all the things going on so i'm not gonna try here

obviously the last thing is by far the worst (since my sister is completely fine again now) like points 2-4 are nowhere near that level but it's like everything. one thing after another. and things i'm forgetting because the last one just overshadows everything else. it keeps coming and maybe if points 3&4 weren't there i'd be better equipped to handle the rest?? but here we are

it's like the only positives so far have been all you lovely people i've met and gotten to know through fandom and the community and support here <3 and getting back into writing fr and the support you've given there too. need the distraction and positives more than ever now so thank you for being your excellent selves <3 (almost wrote elves skdfjdks would've been cool though)

ok this got super long sorry i probably won't post about this now that i've gotten it out and i'm so glad i have ofmd in october to look forward to mostly because i get to be unhinged about it with all of you <3 and THERE WILL BE FEASTING AND DANCING IN JERUSALEM NEXT YEAR

[devintrinidad]

15, 16, & 24 for the ask game ♡

Hi, Chloe! Thanks for the asks! :D

15. What’s your favorite season? 

I really like winter! The season is so beautiful and it's cold and everyone gets bundled up??? It's so nice! Love it! I'm also partial to how autumn slowly transitions into winter and how winter transitions into spring. Maybe it's because I haven't seen snow in years, but the icy frigidity is comforting.

16. Want any tattoos? What of? 

I know I talk a big game about phlebotomy, but I'm really allergic to pain. I don't like it. I'm fine with vaccines and blood draws, but only because it's necessary. Tattoos are pretty, but I don't think I would enjoy the process on myself personally. Plus, I would put so much time and effort in finding a tattoo that holds a lot of meaning to me, but isn't seen as tacky to others, that I'll eventually chicken out and not do it anyway.

Okay, the next one is kinda personal, so I'm putting it under a readmore:

24. When was the last time you cried? Why? 

At work.

Okay, full context and the story, here we go:

So, the last time was literally a week or so ago, on a Thursday. I mentioned before that I work with autistic children, but I don't think I mentioned that I don't really have a lot of experience with working with small kids. Yes, I do have a psychology degree, but I didn't think the company that hired me would take me on because I don't really have that much experience to back me up.

Anyway, I'm a behavior technician, which means that my job is to teach kids how to be more independent through discrete trial or incidental teaching. (It's a lot of technical jargon, but think of me as a teacher, but I allow my kids to roam and run free while I incorporate lessons into what they do).

So, on this particular Thursday, I'm with an afternoon session with one of my kids. He's really smart and he's adorable! He can write letters and even words! He's mostly nonverbal, but he'll let you know what he wants by gesturing and using what little vocabulary he has. (He also has a hyperfixation on farms/farm animals... you'll see how that pertains the story later).

That day, I was still getting supervision on my sessions, but sometimes, my boss had to leave to supervise others or to do some paperwork. When he did supervise me, he was always quick to provide feedback or praise, but the feedback hits extra hard because I'm still learning. I know he means well, but I can't deny that I felt a little disheartened, especially when I know that the other behavior techs on my team are so great with our kids.

In my session with this particular kid, we're at a table and he's trying to play with a toy barn. The doors had been taken off (don't ask me why, I think some other kids were rowdy with it) and he was trying to put them back on. He was getting frustrated and I asked him, "Hey, friend, do you need help? I can put them back on for you." And he kinda shoves the doors into my hands and I try to put the barn doors back on.

Thing was: the barn doors weren't cooperating. I mean, the doors were eventually fixed, but I must not have worked fast enough because ten seconds later (doors were still not on the little barn), my kid starts howling.

A note about me: I get really uncomfortable when other people cry. It's not like I dislike the crying, but because I don't know what to do... and I also do get the urge to cry. (It's gotten better over the years, but when I was a little kid, if someone started crying, I would usually start crying too).

I tried telling my kid, "Hey, friend! It's almost fixed! We're gonna have a great time with the farm, right?" And like encouraging him to be patient with a lower tone of voice, but it wasn't working.

There happened to be another behavior tech in the room (not on my team) with her own kid and she tried to help me, but my kid started going ballistic.

He was bawling, practically screaming, and I think there were some other things on the table like books and stuffed animals???? that he swiped them off the table and onto the ground.

Eventually, the other behavior tech left because her kid was probably getting overstimulated by the meltdown and I also fell silent. I just...

I didn't know what to do.

He wasn't responding to my attempts to soothe him, he wasn't responding my attempts to give him markers or toys.

Eventually, my boss came back and he took charge.

Chloe.

This man.

He is so good with kids.

He started with telling the kid that his feelings were valid, that it was all right to cry.

The kid started to calm down, but was still noticeably agitated.

So, noticing that, my boss started singing Old Macdonald and that's when the kid finally calmed down, relaxed, and went back to playing with some toys.

The entire exchange happened in like five minutes and I was stunned.

This man, he just??? Calmed down the kid in the most soothing way possible? Creatively too?

And then, he starts telling me that sometimes we have to adapt to our kids needs, that we have to think things from our perspective. He also told me about deescalation strategies and how to improve in the future.

And it was all great advice!

But!

Here's the thing:

My kid had been having a meltdown for like ten to fifteen minutes before my boss came in and I'm in near tears.

I'm. In. Near. Tears.

Now was not a great time to give me a lesson.

And that's on me. I should have been open and honest that maybe I needed a break, needed some space, all that jazz.

But like, I kept quiet about it, responded to his questions and told him that I understood, but the entire time, I was close to breaking.

(So either I'm really good at concealing how I'm feeling, my boss didn't notice, or my boss did notice and decided not to say anything. Whatever the three... it's not good).

Eventually, my kid wanted to leave for another room and my boss had to go supervise someone else.

So:

I'm in another room, my kid is currently drawing on another table, I'm still reeling from feeling useless and pathetic, and then! Another player arrives.

This lady who comes in told me that she's going to supervise me and give me some more tips since my boss needs to handle another behavior tech. The lady is the clinical director, so she knows a lot about kids and psychology in general.

So, she goes on about different strategies to help me run trials with my kids and how to deal with challenging behaviors.

On any other day, this would be a great learning experience! I like learning ways to improve my methods on delivering treatment!

But! Not today. Not right now when I'm still trying to process my feelings and the fact that my kid still isn't responding/attending/allowing me to build rapport with him.

I try my best to deliver trials with the lady's advice, but he continues ignoring me for the rest of the session.

Chloe.

I was in session with that kid for two hours. The first forty five minutes were kinda fine, the next fifteen was the meltdown, and that final hour was spent in near tears trying to keep everything together and promising myself that I would cry at home.

Eventually, I had to transition my kid to another behavior tech (he was my final session and I could go home... if it weren't for the fact that I was scheduled for like a final meeting where my boss could go over scheduling, my treatment delivery, etc.)

So, I'm still in the middle of not trying to cry when my boss goes, "How is everything?"

And Chloe:

That's when I was started to lose it:

"Not well."

And that's such a short thing to say, right? But I must have said it loud enough for him to hear because my voice was cracking and I was hiding my face so he doesn't see (I'm a firm believer in eye contact and he had been supervising me a while to know that, I think) and he goes:

"Take a break."

And I just run.

Tears are literally escaping my eyes, I'm rushing out of there and into a bathroom and that's when I start literally crying.

Like,

Literally wailing and trying to stifle everything.

For ten long minutes, I was in that bathroom trying to come up with a good reason to go outside and face my boss, because??? I didn't want to be caught dead crying in front of my boss! Who does?

Eventually, I began balling up wads of tissues and drowning them water so I can place them on my eyes. (It helps with redness so it doesn't look like I'm crying). I also, on the off chance that I began crying again, grabbed some more tissues from a nearby toilet paper roll.

And I headed back inside.

And that's when I saw my boss and the clinical director standing together talking.

My anxiety has gotten better over the years, but in that instant, all my worst fears were coming to pass. Were they discussing how badly I handled my final session that day? Were they criticizing me? Were they letting me go? Was I not good enough for them?

When they gestured for me to come meet them, they were smiling and looking supportive, but like??? At that moment, I felt myself breaking even more.

When I approached, the clinical director was like, "Hey, how're you doing?" And her voice was really soft and soothing and I really wanted to believe that she meant well.

And I kinda wanted to play off that I was fine and doing okay because I kinda just waved my balled up fist filled with toilet paper tissues, "Oh, yeah! I'm fine! I even got extra tissues just in case!"

Which.

I don't know.

Is not a normal thing to say?

And I think that's when they understood that I was not. Okay.

Because that's when the clinical director was going to say something, but--

I teared up and started sobbing again.

Full on crying.

Thank goodness kids are loud and behavior techs learn to mind their own business except for when it comes to their own kids hahaha~!

As soon as I began crying, I hid my face in my hands and I felt the lady come and give me a hug.

Cue me crying even harder because I expected the worst, and the worst was technically happening, but the clinical director??? Was so soft??? And warm??? And why is she hugging me???

And I hear them talking to each other and I’m still kind of not in the moment except for trying to keep it together even though I’ve long since lost it and that’s when I hear, “Let’s go into another room, okay?”

And they begin ushering me into a nearby conference room.

(I don’t think anyone was paying attention, but it was still humiliating rushing somewhere unknown while I’ve got my fists bawled up against my eyeballs).

Anyway, I'm apologizing for... I don't know... everything? Like I'm apologizing for crying, for not being good enough, for taking up their time because they shouldn't have to baby me.

And you know what? They didn't baby me at all.

Instead, they really talked to me as a person. They told me that I was doing great, that I was still learning and it was expected that I would make mistakes. They also told me that the clinical director should have been debriefed better because my boss thought that the both of us could handle it and that the situation hadn't impacted me as badly as it really did. In all honesty, it's kinda funny. It was because of miscommunication and misunderstanding, which is ironic because I'm pretty sure everyone in the room majored in psychology at one point lol

Anyway, my head is kinda ducked underneath the table because, again, I'm still crying and I'm not pretty to look at when full on crying. The both of them agree that they'll meet me again tomorrow (it's close to the end of my shift, so I was going to leave) and that they were going to talk about how they were going to make it so that I would be more comfortable in this environment, how to lessen the burden of transition, and what else they could do to help me.

The clinical director had to leave because she had to attend to other matters, but my boss held me back for a couple more minutes.

(Okay, that's more of a hyperbole).

He told me that I could stay in the privacy of the meeting room as long as I wanted so that I could gather myself and calm down.

He told me that I was doing really well... but that's not the only thing he told.

He told me to have compassion for myself, that I'm at where I need to be, and that if he wanted to fire me or found fault in my work/attitude, we would be having a wildly different conversation.

Yesterday, I told you that what happened made me into a better person. I think that was an exaggeration. I'm not a better person.

Yet.

I don't know, the words he told me and how he told it, with so much compassion and empathy. He was calm and he didn't talk me down. He let me cry and ask him questions.

I aspire to be as empathetic, to always see the humanity in others. I want to be the person others can look to when it comes to trust and opening up their vulnerabilities.

He also told me that it took years of working with kids and I had just started. Of course I wasn't going to be the best at it, there is a learning curve and I was doing my best. And that's a good thing.

Afterwards, I finally left and went home.

I kinda cried a little before work started the next day, but I think I got better and began working towards trying to embody not only an improved behavior technician, but also a better person.

So yeah.

tldr; A patient under my care had a meltdown, I had a meltdown, and my boss and another boss saw it and talked me through it.

Thank you so much for the questions, Chloe! I know this took longer than it should have, but the experience hit me really hard. I hadn't cried that hard since my meltdown back in June so yeah.

I hope you have a wonderful night and that your grandmother had an even better birthday! :D

[brokenmusicboxwolfe]

Everything is going badly right now, so I apologize for not only for not replying, but that my posting generally might run into trouble. My queue is running dry, and I haven’t had time for making new drafts. I’ve got tons of pics and months of sculpting, but I can’t just zap them up here.

Example of things getting to me:

Yesterday I put off my shopping, partly because of the rain and partly because of a scary heart spell and partly because I injured myself the previous day. I meant to take it easy. I didn’t. I was busy and “stuff” happened. Let’s just say it was officially a bad day.

So I get to the evening and light the hot water heater, eager to wash dishes and get to bed. And hour and a half later and…the water is cold. The hot water heater had gone out!

I got determined to try to figure out it out. If I was sensible I would have gone to bed, but I knew I would be unable to sleep with all the thinking about it. Besides, I have this thing about always bathing before bed. I may never find a chance to put lotion on my hands**, and I long ago accepted that my hair was going to be a rats nest whatever I do, but I’ll be damned if I am going to bed without washing away the dirt from my messy life!

Anyway, the hot water heater means kerosene, soot, and the filth caused by cats on the back porch that find that area extra snuggly on winter nights. Basically….ewwwww! Now I REALLY need to get clean.

Since I had spent all that time using that camping shower, I figured I’d boil some water and use that. Ok, first I had to spend twenty minutes trying to find it, but this would be fine for now.

It wouldn’t charge! The only zip it had left was the feeble one from that last time I used it. And the mineral build up had broken loose and now blocked the spray holes. It’s get it to work, but as a trickle.

Boiling the water went sideways too as the kettle decided last night would be a good time to spring a leak on me. I hoped adjusting the screws for the handle would stop it, but nope. The stove became a pond.

When I took a shower the water from the kettle, and the other I boiled, wasn’t enough to keep it from being chilly. Worse, when I dumped the kettle water in the scales of mineral that had built up in it*** decided to finally break loose. Some of it got sucked into the shower, clogging it.

I won’t go into everything I've done trouble shooting it. Let’s say I reached a point where it is either the copper line clogged or the kerosene level being too low.

The kerosene is always low because I can’t afford to buy much, but the way I ration it I should have had a month’s worth. If it is too low I have the mystery of where it is going, with no obvious signs of any leaks. I also have to drive to a gas station 10 miles and then spend more than $60 for 10 gallons.

If the line is clogged, things are possibly worse. If it’s at the opening from the tank it is very difficult to get to clear and likely means the tank is gunked up with rust I can do nothing about. If it’s the line I have disconnect it at both ends, which always goes wrong. Doing it alone kerosene goes everywhere. Disconnecting it from the heater means moving the refrigerator, then putting one arm through a little hole in the wall while reaching around the partition with the other, completely unable to see what you are doing.

And them every single time I work on copper line it breaks!

So then I end up having to patch or replace things. I have to find the special tools, remember how to do it, hope I’m not out of fittings the right size, work damn hard at it only to have it leak! I swear, trying to work on copper line an NOT have it leak makes me crazy. I was soooo proud of myself for getting it all just right after years of work.

If I have to clear the copper line there is a 95% chance I will end up with at least a little leak somewhere. Never mind the safety or cleanliness aspects, I can NOT afford to have a leak!

To test whether it was the line or the kerosene level I decided to tilt the tank. When I’d repaired the tank around five years ago I’d replaced the old rotten base to the spindly legs and got it set up nicely, but over time it had settled, so it could use a little more tilt.

The big crowbar is at the other house. I had to use a much punier one.

I have used up the spare bricks and cinderblocks, so I had to dismantle the steps I use to pour the kerosene in the tank.

The base, which I had made of treated (supposedly) wood and set on bricks had rotted. Not all of it, but one side, that had looked fine, crumbled away as I lifted.

Frantically I had to wedge things to stabilize the tank while holding it. I had to keep it from tilting too much and breaking the line, while also keeping it from falling over sideways, while using things I could reach.

I now need to make a new stand. I have no more suitable wood since some of this proved unsuitable. The shank on the hole saw broke when I made this one, and I found the others big enough either ruined or impossible to get to. The jumbo drill needed for these holes was stored in the metal building where the huge bookcase fell over on it (and it is now unsafe to go into…long story).

And then it rained, so I had to stop working on the tank.

That’s just a taste of how things are going. It got worse. More side troubles. Plus my body ain’t happy.

And to think I actually thought two days ago that this weekend I’d FINALLY finish the book moving**** so I could get started on the REAL work at Mom’s house!

You know, I had enough on my mind

**Can’t do it when I’m eating or feeding the animals. Can’t do it just before bed because I write in my journal. Can’t do it after supper because I’m going to sculpt. Can’t do it when I handle books or papers. Can’t do it when… And then when I’m not doing something where lotion would be a problem I’m out somewhere or am so busy I forget.

*** We have a LOT of mineral in our water. I have to flush the hoses periodically and after many decades of use the bathroom faucet it nearly blocked up inside. It has built up where it drips in the tub like a cave!

****I haven’t talked about it. Basically it’s a continuation of the “moving stuff around so I can work on the plumbing” thing that has ended up being an insanely involved process that has temporarily made the house a complete wreck that it’s almost impossible to get through. And since I am currently dealing with the stuff I had to move from my house because of the collapsed floors, I can’t even be grumpy at anyone for all the damn books! (And comics. And magazines. At least dolls and action figured are light in comparison!)

[hyenahunt]

Saga: Rivals - 24

Writer: Akira

Season: Winter

Characters: Hokuto

Proofreading: moricchiichan (JP) & Peace (ENG)

Translation: kotofucius

Hokuto: We’ve crossed over a mountain of corpses, walking ahead of them. When it comes to DreamFest, we're more experienced.

[Read on my blog for the best viewing experience with Oi~ssu ♪]

Location: Reverse Live Stage

Time: A few hours later

Hokuto: (Alright, so far so good.)

(And this isn’t a surprise. It's just as I expected — besides Rain-bows and Ba-barrier…)

(And Yumenosaki Academy’s units in general, the other competitors aren’t catching up well with the DreamFest system.)

(That’s natural. This is a strange system, applying a system designed for competitive sports to idol activities.)

(It doesn’t matter that it was explained to them beforehand. It takes time to understand… to get a feel for it.)

(I was confused too last year, at the start.)

(It was completely different from the normal idol work I’d learned from watching my father. It’s incredibly simplified, easy to understand, and yet at the same time, punishing.)

(Normally, idol work is something you take more slowly, at your own pace.)

(A huge mistake doesn’t mean a huge blow to your career… Because your friends and fans would be there to encourage and support you.)

(The profit and loss you caused would be recorded, of course; but the success or failure of each stage, whether you won or lost against your costar, would typically be more vague.)

(Even if the results were terrible, you’d still have dreams and hopes to hold onto.)

Hokuto: (But DreamFest is a competition for votes. The fans vote for us idols and decide our worth in comparison to one another, recorded as hard numbers.)

(Just by seeing and comparing these numbers, even without watching the concert…)

(You’d start feeling like you know which was the better idol.)

(When this becomes the norm, you’ll end up with a situation like Yumenosaki back in the spring.)

(The difference in levels become recognized, solidified, and eventually irreversible. No… People lose hope for any chance of turning the tables.)

(In Yumenosaki, watching and judging concerts affects our grades, so everyone eventually votes only for the undefeated without thinking.)

(Because it was the most efficient and easy thing to do.)

(At first, the system was probably imposed to increase the idols’ motivation, by contesting them against each other. At least, as far as the official stance went.)

(Of course, it must’ve also been part of the Student President’s plan in leading the revolution last year to success.)

(They created an evaluation method that was originally blurry, establishing rules that worked to their advantage.)

(Gambling is done so the bookmaker can make a killing. That’s what they were doing.)

(That system is still being utilized now, even while going through several small adjustments such as the addition of a new level, S3.)

(But are things really fine as they are right now?)

(According to my father, CosPro’s Special Student system gradually gathered opposition and gave birth to people who bore hatred towards idols.)

(I think their system was at first designed to select potential super idols and raise them dearly.)

(It’s a replica of what the idol industry has done all this time. Only a select few can achieve glory… and the rest become slaves that serve them.)

(Even so, it must’ve worked long ago. Both my father and Sagami-sensei managed to rule over the entire industry, like kings that reaped tax and governed their people.)

Hokuto: (But that era is over now.)

(Historically, nobody has ever invented an ideal system that lasts forever.)

(We must never accept things as they are, always allow room for skepticism, and start a revolution if necessary… But as long as a system is viable, we'll still use it to our advantage.)

(DreamFest is war. For better or worse, we’ve gotten used to it.)

(But other Mentor-Disciple units who joined Project-Saga halfway haven't; this isn’t what normal idol activities are like.)

(They live in a world without war. And I do find that enviable. The idol I first admired…)

(My father lived in a peaceful paradise where he loved and was loved.)

(That’s how a normal idol should be. But in Yumenosaki Academy, it’s different.)

(Our determination and experiences are different. We’ve just made a preemptive attack on our defenseless, unarmed opponents.)

(I hope you guys won’t think we're being unfair. This is what’s normal to us.)

(Not having the slightest clue that they’d face an attack, they became overwhelmed by the breach we made. Now they shirk and run away, unable to release their full potential.)

(They panicked, thinking, What? This isn’t how it’s supposed to go!)

(Of course, those with quick wits grasped the situation at once, making a late comeback.)

(But they won’t make it in time. We’ve crossed over a mountain of corpses, walking ahead of them. When it comes to DreamFest, we're more experienced.)

(Reverse Live has a simple rule.)

(As if to conclude Project Saga’s long journey, nearly all the concerned units are participating to compete to be the best.)

(At its core, I think it’s close to the preliminary battles of Starfes back then. We choose our own opponent, and fight a one-on-one battle onstage.)

(The result of our performance battle is decided by the votes of our audiences.)

(The votes we gained become ours when we win, but will be subtracted from the score we’ve accumulated when we lose.)

(That’s what’s unique about it. Good if we can win, but the risk we must shoulder when we lose is pretty huge.)

(Especially if we had a close battle with a worthy opponent — )

(Since our score is deducted from the votes the audiences gave us, that means…)

(The better performance we give, the more cost we must pay when we lose.)

(This is just like a gamble.)

(If you keep gambling, thinking you have it all under control, you’re eventually going to shoot yourself in the foot. You need to make bets only when victory is sure… and stop at the right time.)

(Doing a close battle with an opponent you don’t know you can win against will bankrupt you when you lose.)

(The important thing is to keep a calm mind and win the battles we can win for sure.)

(An overwhelming victory means we can obtain a large number of votes, too.)

Hokuto: (So the weak are targeted like easy marks until their scores hit zero, forcing them off of the stage — )

(They’ll lose their participation right in due course. The way things are, the weak will be weeded out.)

(We Rain-bows are a step ahead of the rest thanks to having been active longer.)

(But normally, anyone would be too scared to do a match.)

(Yet, because the rule dictates that you can’t reject a challenge, the concert never comes to a standstill.)

(It’s a detestable design beneficial only to the strong, squeezing those unused to DreamFests dry.)

(I’m not going to protest, as this setup gives us an advantage, but…)

(It’s strange how losing with a huge gap would damage us less.)

(Why make that kind of rule…? Who decided the contents of Reverse Live?)

(Father spoke like it wasn’t his business, but it felt like an act. I think it’s his doing…)

Hokuto: (Father is a terrible actor when compared to Mother. I should be able to see through his lies if I actually scrutinize his words.)

(I’ve seen and gone through enough to be capable of that much… Father.)

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[thessalian]

Thess vs Plant Rescue

I have been Productive today.

I cleaned out the fridge, I took out the trash and the recycling (though that was painful; ah well), I put up some more refrigerator dill pickles with the brine I boiled up during my insomnia last night (because I do go through those things, but damn are they tasty) ... and I began the attempt at a Plant Rescue in the process.

See, awhile ago, when I was about to put up my last batch of refrigerator dill pickles, there weren’t any packets of fresh dill at the supermarket I went to. Which was honestly fine, since half the packet goes to waste anyway. What I did find was some live, growing dill - you know the kind of thing; bundled into a cheap little pot and looking kind of sad but still alive. So I took it home, put it and its cheap little pot in the kitchen windowsill, gave it some water, took the sprigs I needed, and gave it fairly regular water, just to see how long I could make it last.

So today I noticed that, while the main body of the plant was still kind of saggy and sad, it was also putting out a few new shoots. So I went out onto the balcony to see if I had a decent pot and some soil. I did, in point of fact - I actually had a few but the one that contained one of my cayenne pepper plants that didn’t survive the winter seemed ideal. So I pulled out the corpse of the cayenne pepper plant, dug into the remaining soil to make some room, repotted the dill, gave that some water, and put the whole thing out onto the balcony to get a bit more of this country’s irregular sun. I’ll be giving it plant food with the rest of the winter survivors over the weekend.

So now we wait. If the little supermarket dill plant takes well to its new home, that’s one less thing I have to plant this spring. And honestly I kind of hope it survives just because, y’know? Even in its cheap little pot, it lasted well enough to give me two batches of refrigerator dill pickles. It has served me well, and deserves to thrive. The fact that it means less work for me and still a nearly everlasting source of dill for my batches of pickles is just a bonus.

Maybe that should be a thing I just ... do, y’know? I mean, I do love watching my plants grow from little seeds, but rescuing something that was only meant to last the space of a couple of meal preps and letting it thrive will be awesome, if it works out. So the dill will be an experiment. If it works out, I guess we’ll see.

I know I’m weird. But it’s a good weird, so I’ll cope.

Anyway, since groceries don’t arrive until tomorrow, I may even treat myself to a takeaway. But when tomorrow rolls around and my groceries are here and the fridge is full ... oh, then shall the fun begin. Experiments.