#so they technically are literally a month old starting Right Now Today

[cappucosmico]

the thing i'm most excited for is when the kittens hit that stage of being strangely proportioned with big ol' paws and long legs bc right now sven is already just like that by nature so can you imagine This but Enhanced

[mostlysignssomeportents]

Too big to care

I'm on tour with my new, nationally bestselling novel The Bezzle! Catch me in BOSTON with Randall "XKCD" Munroe (Apr 11), then PROVIDENCE (Apr 12), and beyond!

Remember the first time you used Google search? It was like magic. After years of progressively worsening search quality from Altavista and Yahoo, Google was literally stunning, a gateway to the very best things on the internet.

Today, Google has a 90% search market-share. They got it the hard way: they cheated. Google spends tens of billions of dollars on payola in order to ensure that they are the default search engine behind every search box you encounter on every device, every service and every website:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/10/03/not-feeling-lucky/#fundamental-laws-of-economics

Not coincidentally, Google's search is getting progressively, monotonically worse. It is a cesspool of botshit, spam, scams, and nonsense. Important resources that I never bothered to bookmark because I could find them with a quick Google search no longer show up in the first ten screens of results:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/02/21/im-feeling-unlucky/#not-up-to-the-task

Even after all that payola, Google is still absurdly profitable. They have so much money, they were able to do a $80 billion stock buyback. Just a few months later, Google fired 12,000 skilled technical workers. Essentially, Google is saying that they don't need to spend money on quality, because we're all locked into using Google search. It's cheaper to buy the default search box everywhere in the world than it is to make a product that is so good that even if we tried another search engine, we'd still prefer Google.

This is enshittification. Google is shifting value away from end users (searchers) and business customers (advertisers, publishers and merchants) to itself:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/03/05/the-map-is-not-the-territory/#apor-locksmith

And here's the thing: there are search engines out there that are so good that if you just try them, you'll get that same feeling you got the first time you tried Google.

When I was in Tucson last month on my book-tour for my new novel The Bezzle, I crashed with my pals Patrick and Teresa Nielsen Hayden. I've know them since I was a teenager (Patrick is my editor).

We were sitting in his living room on our laptops – just like old times! – and Patrick asked me if I'd tried Kagi, a new search-engine.

Teresa chimed in, extolling the advanced search features, the "lenses" that surfaced specific kinds of resources on the web.

I hadn't even heard of Kagi, but the Nielsen Haydens are among the most effective researchers I know – both in their professional editorial lives and in their many obsessive hobbies. If it was good enough for them…

I tried it. It was magic.

No, seriously. All those things Google couldn't find anymore? Top of the search pile. Queries that generated pages of spam in Google results? Fucking pristine on Kagi – the right answers, over and over again.

That was before I started playing with Kagi's lenses and other bells and whistles, which elevated the search experience from "magic" to sorcerous.

The catch is that Kagi costs money – after 100 queries, they want you to cough up $10/month ($14 for a couple or $20 for a family with up to six accounts, and some kid-specific features):

https://kagi.com/settings?p=billing_plan&plan=family

I immediately bought a family plan. I've been using it for a month. I've basically stopped using Google search altogether.

Kagi just let me get a lot more done, and I assumed that they were some kind of wildly capitalized startup that was running their own crawl and and their own data-centers. But this morning, I read Jason Koebler's 404 Media report on his own experiences using it:

https://www.404media.co/friendship-ended-with-google-now-kagi-is-my-best-friend/

Koebler's piece contained a key detail that I'd somehow missed:

When you search on Kagi, the service makes a series of “anonymized API calls to traditional search indexes like Google, Yandex, Mojeek, and Brave,” as well as a handful of other specialized search engines, Wikimedia Commons, Flickr, etc. Kagi then combines this with its own web index and news index (for news searches) to build the results pages that you see. So, essentially, you are getting some mix of Google search results combined with results from other indexes.

In other words: Kagi is a heavily customized, anonymized front-end to Google.

The implications of this are stunning. It means that Google's enshittified search-results are a choice. Those ad-strewn, sub-Altavista, spam-drowned search pages are a feature, not a bug. Google prefers those results to Kagi, because Google makes more money out of shit than they would out of delivering a good product:

https://www.theverge.com/2024/4/2/24117976/best-printer-2024-home-use-office-use-labels-school-homework

No wonder Google spends a whole-ass Twitter every year to make sure you never try a rival search engine. Bottom line: they ran the numbers and figured out their most profitable course of action is to enshittify their flagship product and bribe their "competitors" like Apple and Samsung so that you never try another search engine and have another one of those magic moments that sent all those Jeeves-askin' Yahooers to Google a quarter-century ago.

One of my favorite TV comedy bits is Lily Tomlin as Ernestine the AT&T operator; Tomlin would do these pitches for the Bell System and end every ad with "We don't care. We don't have to. We're the phone company":

https://snltranscripts.jt.org/76/76aphonecompany.phtml

Speaking of TV comedy: this week saw FTC chair Lina Khan appear on The Daily Show with Jon Stewart. It was amazing:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=oaDTiWaYfcM

The coverage of Khan's appearance has focused on Stewart's revelation that when he was doing a show on Apple TV, the company prohibited him from interviewing her (presumably because of her hostility to tech monopolies):

https://www.thebignewsletter.com/p/apple-got-caught-censoring-its-own

But for me, the big moment came when Khan described tech monopolists as "too big to care."

What a phrase!

Since the subprime crisis, we're all familiar with businesses being "too big to fail" and "too big to jail." But "too big to care?" Oof, that got me right in the feels.

Because that's what it feels like to use enshittified Google. That's what it feels like to discover that Kagi – the good search engine – is mostly Google with the weights adjusted to serve users, not shareholders.

Google used to care. They cared because they were worried about competitors and regulators. They cared because their workers made them care:

https://www.vox.com/future-perfect/2019/4/4/18295933/google-cancels-ai-ethics-board

Google doesn't care anymore. They don't have to. They're the search company.

If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/04/04/teach-me-how-to-shruggie/#kagi

[octuscle]

Hey, support! So I’m Gus and there’s this really handsome muscle daddy at this marine research center I work at and I want to get him to notice me. He’s really into beefy, well-dressed himbos with nice facial hair and big pecs. Could you help me out please? I don’t want to be too dumb cuz I really want to keep this job, but you can change me however else within what would be his type.

Chronivac is currently experiencing a few technical problems. But I've heard about this tanning salon. “Magic sunbed”. Ask for sunbed 2. 20 minutes should be enough. Definitely no more. Otherwise I can't guarantee anything.

Bekim has had a shit day so far. The turnover isn't right, his boss has given him a telling off. You're only the second customer. He greets you like an old friend. Couch 2 is free. Special offer for today only and for new customers: 30 minutes for a surcharge of just 10 percent and the special lotion at half price. Bekim explains that 20 minutes is basically useless. The skin only tans after 20 minutes. A lot helps a lot, you think. You've never been to a tanning salon before. The staff will know what they're doing.

You go into cabin 2, strip off and rub yourself with lotion. The lotion stinks. You look for an expiration date. Obviously still good for over a year. Then the smell of musk, sweat and sperm must be… Should you leave your underpants on now? Or take them off? To be on the safe side, you undress completely and lie down on the couch. You look for a switch to start the process. You are struck by lightning. It gets light, it gets warm. You close your eyes and try to sleep.

Sleep is out of the question. It's so hot. You're lying in a puddle of sweat. And the stench of the lotion is getting worse. So more intense… You don't actually find it bad any more. More like… Exciting. Your cock is getting hard. You start to wank. Your colleague from the lab in front of you. You can literally feel him running his fingers through your beard and pulling down your dungarees to suck your nipples on your monstrous pecs… Wait a minute! Dungarees? No, lab coat. Right? Never mind, your cock is almost bumping into the top shell of the tanning bed. Your balls are bursting. And then you shoot a geyser out of your cock. A fountain forms three or four times. And soon you're lying in a puddle of sweat and cum. Shit, you could have saved yourself the lotion…

The tanning process ends as abruptly as it started. Cold and dark. The upper bowl slowly rises. Shit, there's only the towel, which is far too small as always. But where are your things? “Yo, Bekim, where the heck are my clothes at?” you shout. Bekim knocks and brings you your dungarees, jockstrap, socks and work boots. The submissive pig couldn't resist wearing your clothes. You noticed he had a crush on you months ago when he started working here. You were one of his first customers. And then you became a regular customer. Shit, he was so excited, he did everything wrong. Well, today he's one of the old hands here. And somehow a buddy of yours. As long as the clothes are neatly laid out and not full of wax, it's okay if he lives out his fetish during your tanning session. Bekim wants to suck you off as a thank you. “Next time, Buddy,” you say. You have to go back to the lab. Your pager has already beeped four times. Some damn ventilation system isn't working as it should.

Bekim is like, the top dude of all time. He's not just about making sure your tanning bed is always ready for your regular sessions. He also hooks you up with the good stuff so your biceps stay swole and your nuts stay juiced. That's how the guy at the Marine Research Center where you work likes it. He's a real muscle daddy. And he's into his dumb janitor hoe.

[autisticsupervillain]

My last post about Agent 47 being a Tumblr Icon proved popular, so here's more Tumblr approved 47 facts.

47's wife has technically killed him twice. Both times it was so he could come back to life later and kill his actual target. Diana could walk right into his living room, stab him with a butcher's knife, and he'd just go "well, who are we killing today honey?"

47 once had to get close to his target by disguising himself as a giant flammingo mascot. One of his target's bodyguards, a furry, tries to start a conversation about it. 47 could not end that conversation quick enough.

One time, 47 tried to disguise himself as a realtor to get close to his target. All of his attempts to sell the house to his target involve advice on how to kill someone in those rooms. The target never questions this. Later, both the target and 47 stumble across a month's old crime scene. 47 goes full detective mode and delivers a full paragraph detailing what happened and how the victim died, before remembering he's supposed to be a realtor right now and brushing it off.

One time, in order to get close to a target, 47 got a job interview at a bank. His response to every question involves more or less just flat out admitting that he kills people for a living. They hire him on the spot.

47 has read his universe's version of the Twilight novels. He also killed the author of said Twilight knockoffs, but not before criticizing his writing and complaining about a plot point he didn't like.

47 once infiltrated a secret meeting of international spies, billionaires, and supervillains by walking right past the guards in his regular iconic suit, as everyone took one look at him and assumed he was supposed to be there.

Agent 47 canonically has an aura of death that hangs over him that only psychics can see. When an actually psychic meets him for the first time, he panics and all but pushes 47 out of his establishment.

47's most used alias, Tobias Rieper, as an instagram account. It's filled entirely with travel pictures from places he's visited while killing people.

Agent 47 inexplicably looks identical to one of the most popular fashion models in the world, Helmut Krueger. This doesn't hinder his ability to disguise himself as literally anyone in the world though.

One time, a bunch of nuns in stripper outfits showed up at 47's hotel to blow him the fuck up with a rocket launcher. He was inexplicably completely unharmed by the explosion.

One time, a mad scientist tried to test his mind control device on 47. 47 resisted it so hard that the scientist dropped dead from the psychic backlash.

One of his regular outfits for missions is a clown suit.

47 has a reputation at his agency for killing people in the most ridiculous and over the top ways possible. It got to the point that another assassin tried to imitate 47's style, which backfired so badly that the assassin accidentally killed everyone in the building, including himself, and let the target get away completely unharmed.

47 once manipulated another assassin into killing his targets for him. Unfortunately, said assassin was so bad at his job that 47 had to do everything for him, from adjusting his sniper rifle so he could actually fire it, to getting the targets into his line of sight so the assassin would actually see them.

47 once stopped a depressed person fresh off a bad break up from an abusive relationship from committing suicide by following him around the globe and beating him unconscious every time he tried to kill himself, all without the guy ever actually noticing him. 47 only stopped when the guy decided he must have a guardian angel looking out for him because he keeps falling asleep whenever he considers going through with the deed, deciding he owes that angel an honest attempt to getting his life back on track again.

Agent 47 has a friend in the CIA named Agent Smith, who keeps getting kidnapped and held prisoner at all the locations 47 is doing missions in. 47 keeps having to rescue him because Smith usually has good intel on his targets. Smith considers 47 his best friend, while 47 holds Smith in open contempt.

47 is a millionaire, but he cannot spend any of his money on luxary items due to his life style. His profession means he's constantly moving to new homes and can only live safely in sparce homes with nothing but fast food to tide him over. His suits are his only affordable luxary, as anything more lavish could expose his location and get him arrested or killed. He's a millionaire who has to live like a broke king thanks to his triple digit body count. It's only when Freelancer happens that he finally gets his own home.

47 is a pro at Dance Dance Revolution, but only when he is dressed like a ninja.

And finally, 47 has canonically killed countless fascists, pedophiles, billionaires, and even anti-vaxers who run MLM pyramid schemes. Up to 365 of them and counting, in fact.

[fountainpenguin]

Riddle watches New Wish - Post #14

Lost and Founder's Day

I do really like how the theme song flows, especially at the end where Cosmo and Wanda jump from their human disguises into fairy form.

Ooh, Founder's Day came back from "A New Dev-elopment." Continuity! I like how the title card shows us the hat that Dev and Hazel saw during their treasure hunt.

I'm gonna throw my money down on the Dimmadomes founding Dimmadelphia (or an ancestor).

skdfj, Hazel's so cute when she steals her teacher's hat.

-> Yes, it was the Dimmadomes.

I like how Dev's shades are still gone, but he's still got that smug tone of voice. But today, he has a good reason to be a bit smug for a festival his family is hosting (that his dad had to work over the weekend to pull together). This is gonna be interesting.

I don't trust any of this tech to be good (in the moral sense). Dale literally tried to promote pollution a few episodes ago.

LKSDJFSD, Dev giving out watches that do a bunch of cool technical things and this is the face he makes when he's asked if the watches tell time:

(They do not).

This is the first time Hazel's shown interest in anything related to Dimmadomes' tech (She has a phone case covering any logo and didn't know how to do the dance they apparently made) and now she's gushing over the gift Dev gave her so I'm... hm. Where ya going with this, Hazel?

Okay, so... what the HECK is going on with Dimmadelphia? I'm sure we'll get to learn the real founder soon, but all I can assume right now is that it was Doug himself, hence the hat logo. If that's true, he was BUSY during the 50 years of frozen time.

-> That WOULD justify my Buxaplenty overlap seeing as the train lines would've been crucial for this.

It's gotta be a different ancestor. There's no way Doug would be in Dimmsdale if he'd founded another city. This city's huge. I'll be watching for any indications of "established X year."

Aww, Hazel adores Dev now and is blatantly gushing over him. That's really cute. Local #1 Dev fan:

[cnt'd under the cut - #long post]

I can't believe we didn't get a "Hazel has a bone in her hair" gag when she got shocked by the tech.

omfg, Dev is so desperate to interact with his dad that he's begging to "organize merchandise by tossing boxes back and forth to each other." He's smart. Goober.

Diagnosed child who would play Catch with active TNT minecarts in Limited Life SMP. He would just do it...

Dale, you shouldn't tell your son to "Eat a lizard." That's mean.

Oh noooo, are we about to get "My dreams were crushed many years ago... How old are you?" version 2.0?

-> Note to self, Dev's birthday is 9 years, 7 months, and 14 days before Founder's Day (give or take since he says "pretty much exactly my birthday to the day, which I think implies he's doing math and decides it's the day).

Dev is 9? Lol. Didn't we already have end of the year tests in like, Episode 2? And our implied end of school year dance? Baby.

-> I double-checked and Sadie Hawkins is in November. There were Sneezy Hawkins Dance posters in Episode 1 when Hazel walked in. Those posters hung in school for multiple episodes (I'll keep my eyes out for them in future episodes), which would imply she started school in September or October (Probably not August since she was specially introduced to the class as a new student).

-> If we keep seeing the posters throughout the whole year, I'm willing to wave them off, but while planning the timeline, it's worth noting they exist, we know we're post-2019, but probably not too many years later since that was the most recent date on the gym's championship banner for a school that clearly wins sports games often ("Fearless"), and we've seen multiple waning crescent moons.

-> No snow, but not unreasonable since Dimmsdale was in California.

... I gotta say, I'm really enjoying these recent episodes, but D: Where was this early in the series when I was confused in Post #10 as to where all the underlying trauma vibes were?

We've absolutely shifted vibes from where we were when I wrote that post. Which is fantastic, but I'm surprised we didn't get this earlier. THIS is FOP vibes. THIS is what I wanted and why I was super confused by this show's tone earlier. Yeah, of course I like Dev now... He's shifting the tone back to the OG show's vibes.

I'm wary, but I've approached to eat out of the hand.

Oh no, we scene shifted before Dale could reveal the statue under the cloth. Either he's broken and we're going to see the aftereffects (following Hazel's POV where she's confused as to why he's gone off the rails and turned snappy) or he's gonna find out during the event and he'll break down in front of the crowd. Uh-oh...

...... Okay, now they're just taunting me with the moon. It can't always be a waning crescent!!

The stage looks like Doug Dimmadome.

Please tell me Dale didn't forget to add Dev's info to the ID-scanning robot.

Every time Angela is onscreen she has a new therapy book and I support her.

Wanda: Parenting never gets easier.

-> Please tell me Hazel's parents are about to ask about that and they're going to have to either backpedal or they're going to imply they've raised like 100 kids.

sdlkfj, they only cite Poof. BRUTAL.

-> Cosmo one again giving me "First fairy baby born in 1000 years." Yeah yeah, Westley Periwinkle held the title first, we all know him (/fanfic joke).

Seriously though, it's very funny to me that Poof is never, ever referred to as "first baby born after Cosmo" or "first baby born in tens of thousands of years, or hundreds of thousands." Only first in hundreds OR first in thousands. I can't believe that DANG KID is still haunting me in the new show.

-> Cosmo still confirmed to have been the pregnant parent. I'm glad that wasn't retconned (despite Cosmo's best efforts to scramble and cover up what he said by claiming Wanda was the pregnant one).

Cracking up. Cosmo, I think the neighbors think you're trans but not out about it.

Angela: Where's your son now? :) Wanda: Eh, we don't know. I mean, we forget because we were on vacation for 10k years.

Wanda, WHAT did I say in Post 11 about how you cannot leave that clingy child alone immediately after tearing him away from Timmy?? If Poof shows up and he has abandonment issues and/or clingy vibes, I'm gonna shake you both so hard.

-> Why is Marcus not calling them out for being paranormal creatures? ... That's kind of funny since Crocker would've lost his mind.

I like how Cosmo and Wanda turned their wands into lollipops for the carnival. That's cute.

Uh-oh, the statue's not been revealed yet. I hope Dev isn't onstage when this happens. (I want him to be onstage and suffer).

-> I should note that "Stanky Danky" and "Lost and Founder" are the episodes Dale lists the companies he's in charge of, and I'm pretty sure they're different. I want to make a coherent list throughout the series.

Marcus is reading his wife's book at the party, aww. They're so cute.

OH MY GOSH, their ancestor IS surnamed Dimm! I am once again thinking this implies Dale Dimm from "Which Witch Is Which?" - who founded Dimmsdale - is probably also in this family tree.

Wanda's glowing wand is adorable. They're both cute.

So, Hazel has been here long enough she agrees she hasn't "just" moved here anymore, so I'll allow the waning crescents.

Doug Dimmadome struck gold in 1953? I'll be making a note of that. I know that's after both Dimmsdale and Dimmsdale Flats were founded. This doesn't do much for me right now, but it's good to note.

-> This implies he was a teen or adult in 1953, so he's definitely not close to the age of Timmy's parents, who were 10 in the '70s. This checks out; he's got the white hair.

-> Let's say this is 2020 for the purpose of "We know we're after 2019." (2020 - 1953) is 67, and the youngest I'd be okay letting him strike gold is 10, since 10-year-olds do a lot in this show. So, he's at minimum 77 years old during this show, and could very easily be 87 or more years older (87 if he struck gold at 20), if I'm doing my math right.

And again, that's off the assumption it's 2020, which is a little earlier than I'd been brainstorming. I'm okay with this since he had white hair in the OG series, but I'm gonna have to plot out a timeline for Dale's age at some point.

Dale: /evil monologues about his plan to monitor kids' heartrates to figure out exactly what a child want. Me: Dale, have you tried... talking to a kid? Maybe YOUR kid? Standing behind you? Dev, clearly uneasy: Dad, that's so great! You get to help kids right away!! Dale: ... Help kids?

^ Me

Wait, so the drones can waste products and not get yelled at? Dale, maybe you should focus your attention in that area of your business- I think you're losing product.

Why do the drones sound so sad? They're talking like all their friends just ditched them. They're so cute.

I love how he's still wearing the big boots:

Oh no, Dev's on stage and Dale's talking about how the statue "isn't just him" under the tarp and "he can remember when this bundle of joy arrived." Yeah, Dev's about to shatter.

Okay, Wanda's clearly startled that the statue doesn't depict Dev and even Cosmo's starting to sense that something's going on in that family. You two are going to report this, right?

Aww, Cosmo misses his son.

The contrast of Dev crashing and burning while Hazel is enjoying her new hat is very funny to me. Like, we get this sequence of how happy she is and you just know Dev's having the worst day.

Dev: It's Hazel! Of course... Her well-known love of hats! /said not long after Wanda was like "Hazel, I've literally never seen you wear a hat before yesterday, what do you mean you like hats?

That's actually very funny. And cute? When did Hazel and Dev talk about liking hats? Logically, that must've been while they were montaging on the treasure hunt and posing next to those hat-shaped objects for photos.

With Dev talking about the Dimmadomes running a family business, I'd really like to see what Dev's relationship with his grandfather is. Doug was also careless about destroying childhood memories and I don't trust him to be a good dad either, but I'm curious.

-> I actually have no proof Doug Dimmadome is still alive. I wonder if he's out of the picture and if that had a negative effect on Dale, which may be why he's throwing everything into the business right now, and why he loves his boots.

-> I should check if those boots are similar to his dad's. Like, what if he saw his dad die on the day Dev was born and the boots were left to him, so that's why the boots are so important to him that he dedicated a statue to them?

POV, the dad who (presumably) pampered you for life after you'd spent 7 years of torment underground - and you don't seem to have a mother in your life so this is your only parent and only known connection to a world that isn't full of suffering - is dying on the same day your wife is in labor. What do you do?

Aww, Hazel knows Dev well enough to sense that something's up and ask if he's okay, implying they seem to have grown closer from "A New Dev-elopment" when she saw his father scoff at him and opted to change the subject instead of asking about his feelings. They seem to be doing well as friends and I like that.

-> All these crescent moons make me wonder how long it's been since that episode, though since Dale was working on the Founder's Day event on the weekend, I assume we're still in that range of time.

Dev, holding his arm when Hazel asks if he's okay: I... don't have time to get into it.

They're so cute. I love them.

-> I love the focus on Dev right now, but I hope we don't go full steam ahead into Hazel's friendship with him and she sidelines Jasmine and Winn for her new buddy and/or potential crush.

She hasn't seen her friends this whole carnival, which surprises me. Don't do it, Hazel.

What, where did Dev get those shades. He didn't have those .4 seconds ago.

Dev's going to complete his task and give Hazel's hat back to his dad and still get rejected.

OH NO, Dev is trying to lure the scanner drones away from Hazel, but he didn't tell her that so she thinks he just called her a name, mugged her, and ran off. That's hilarious. #You tried.

Dev, you have to talk to people. You can't just assume she knows what's going on. Fool.

I like how Dale also has special eyewear (VR glasses).

I like how Cosmo inexplicably thinks all the Dimmadomes have "Pickle" as a middle name. I think he said that to Dev in an earlier episode, right?

I like how Hazel saved the day by "doing what Cosmo would do" and pressing all the buttons randomly. That's hilarious.

Barry the dinosaur was at the carnival... That's great.

HAZEL'S MAD!!

As she deserves to be- that's the second time Dev regressed to calling her names. She thought they went through this, but now she's like "He's not changing and also I literally just caught his dad in an evil plot of shocking children's brains with electricity. And Dev seems to have been helping."

Yeah... This is gonna go great. Also, his cute little poses:

Oh thank goodness... We are SO BACK, baby! The fluffy episodes were fine, but NOW we're gettin' somewhere!! Time to break some hearts.

"I would hug you, but I do not have human arms or warmth." I love them.

Aww, he likes her so much. Best buddies...

I didn't know this was his phone, I thought it was a retro video game console.

Oh, it's an iPad parallel. It's got a stand and that's why it's big.

I like how my extremely specific "Ed Leadly as Dev's other grandpa" situation just keeps getting worse the more I think about it.

Little Dev: Grandpa Leadly, I learned to write my name! :) Leadly sitting among his pencils as Dev hands him a tablet he typed on instead of pencil and paper: Buddy, rising star, apple of my eye, my little angel... I will pay you 17 million dollars to never do this in front of me again.

Dad who likes flashy and long-lasting things to remind himself how far he's come vs. grandpa who's willing to massively overpay for anything he took interest in for 5 seconds; what arguments will they endure?

OHHH BOY, it's fairy assignment time! LET'S FREAKIN' GO!

It's Poof!! That is not the voice I expected out of him, but maybe I should've because he did love deep voices back in "Certifiable Super Sitter." I accept it.

Aw, he's so ready to play! This makes me so happy... That's exactly what a fairy godparent is here for- Finding miserable kids and turning that around so they get happier memories of their childhoods. That's exciting!

-> Oh, NOW I see why you guys were all messaging me about my "Poof adores his hero Westley Periwinkle and likes naming things after him" lore, sdkjfl. Ahahaha... I'm in danger.

-> "Don't Let Your Babies Grow Up to Be Pixies" Poof-Westley interactions looming on the horizon

Interesting choice to change his name? I wonder if that was done for stylistic reasons like the script. I seem to remember the OG show's scripts would say POOF in them for special effects, and I can see how that would be confusing.

Is... is this because he's trying to lie low so he can dodge the attention he was always getting as a celebrity kid? That feels right, seeing as if it was a true deadname to him, he probably wouldn't have introduced himself as Poof before saying "I changed it to Peri, like Periwinkle."

Either that or he's unclear if Dev's heard anything about him from Cosmo, Wanda, or Hazel and he wanted to clarify who he is, though that doesn't seem likely.

Huh. I'm kinda surprised Poof showed up. I know in the past, he was a controversial addition to the show and I half-expected him to be swept under the rug, though I did wonder about it when Cosmo and Wanda were talking about him earlier.

I've always loved him though and I'm excited to have him back. Return of my other OTHER son.

I'm really excited to hear him talk since his talking was limited to "School of Crock" (only at the end), "Fairly Odd Fairy Tales" (which he mostly slept through), and "Certifiable Super Sitter" (which is... unique). I've had to make up his entire personality for 'fics based on what limited understanding we had of his interests. I look forward to learning more about this version of him!

My established version of him in 'fics will take priority over new information. I'm currently still on the line of "Do I want to ignore New Wish in my canon or try to incorporate what I can?"

That said, I'm leaning a little towards incorporating, since I think I can work with most of it so far, especially if we're throwing in "Fairywinkle-Cosma family aren't strangers to time travel right now."

-> I'm not committing by any means, so don't hold me to that, and even if I do, it'll be cherry-picky.

-> One of my canons for Cloudlands AU Poof is that he's a fanfic writer, mainly for a series called Ninja Cowboy (which he chronically leaves unfinished, to Foop's distress since as Poof's opposite, he's addicted to finding out their endings). He also writes Anti-Cosmo x H.P. fanfics because it's the only thing that makes them back off when they show up to bother him.

Point being, I hope he gets to engage in Prime Meridian with Dev. I feel like they'd enjoy writing 'fics together and it would be funny to me :)

-> I'm wheezing on the floor. Poof's early concept name was Dusty. Even though the writers wouldn't have reason to know that was his concept name, it's funny to me that his name was changed to something that's also not that. The man of as many names as voices he can mimic...

That works really well for me since I named his younger brother Dusty, so that would've caused me problems.

I also gave Poof a mullet / ponytail in my teen design, so that makes me laugh. Lemme see if I have his ref sheet...

I do! Plus a bunch more from my files:

Looks like I gave him a tuft kinda close to his extra hair strand! That's fun. I wonder if New Wish Poof also likes sports. Hmm...

I'm gonna have to look up what era suspenders were popular. I specifically designed my teen/adult Poof with a late 60s / early 70s vibe since Cosmo was said to have been designed for the 50s, which is the time period parallel I was treating Fairy World in during that era too (hence Poof's blog tag being #purple hippie dragonfly, which I'm not planning to change because it's for me).

Exciting! I like Poof's staff. I've seen people do adulthood designs for Foop with a staff, but Poof's a new one. That's fun.

Alas, no freckles... but that's not gonna change in his Cloudlands AU design. We are "biological queen bee" all the way here.

Hmm. Foop has freckles, but... we'll see if he ever shows up in this series. I do not expect the artists to remember his freckles since they only showed up when he puffed his cheeks or flushed, but... if Foop shows up without his mustache and goatee, I'mma have questions.

Actually, this is perfectly fine because I always draw gyne fairies with pale freckles unless they're at their peak, and I already set Finley up as more dominant than Poof at school (with Finley suppressing his pheromones so Poof's "locked down" anyway). It looks like they're pretty faint in his ref sheet too. I'm satisfied with this.

No promises I'll work the Peri arc into my canon. I think I have room for it to exist and I don't think I've seen anything in New Wish that directly conflicts with Cloudlands AU in a way I can't work around, but I'm not likely to write 'fics for New Wish right now.

-> I'm not opposed to incorporating New Wish prompts into the 130 Prompts series IF I find any old drafts I end up not liking, but I did a deep clean in early 2023 and got rid of ones I didn't like, so I'm not sure.

I did sketch Hazel for a potential arc cover though, so I can use that if I have reason to.

So far, as long as I can find a satisfying way for Poof to age, I think I can swing New Wish around to fit with Cloudlands AU... unless we get something super specific like Poof-Peri already graduating high school or Cosmo and Wanda confirming they won't have godkids after Hazel, in which case I'll have to ignore that.

I can even work things around if Peri's not with Goldie, because their whole thing in Cloudlands AU is celebrity drama and dating life struggles anyway (iirc, Foop even told readers that Poof and Goldie keep splitting up and getting back together).

-> I've always suspected Poof would get special advance godkid permissions seeing as, y'know... Jorgen literally made him trial test Crocker's Mom as his "godperson assignment" in "Fairly Old Parent," plus Poof was getting on-the-job training his whole life. It's neat to see him!

I hope Poof's better at not burning himself out now. He looks like he's doing okay. He's grown out of his shell!

-> According to my timeline, Erg was Cosmo and Wanda's trial kid while they were still in high school, so it would totally work for me if Dev is Poof's high school assignment.

I'm not expecting that to be stated, but I can work with it.

Thanks for joining me in this liveblog! Looking forward to more episodes :)

[wolven91]

The Distant Anniversary

The anniversary day of the Sol-3 Incident came and went, with some observing the celebration and others not. Enough time had passed that the pain was no more, nor even remembered. Those that were alive on the day were no more, their children who were told the stories of their home planet saw that history as just that, a story and history. Steven just shrugged and moved on with his life, there was no need to observe a day that neither he nor his grandparents were even alive for thanks to how far back it was.

Steven had spent the day blissfully unaware with his ward, they'd played hide and seek and wandered the gardens enjoying an unusually balmy autumn day. They wouldn't be able to do that on this day however, as autumn was truly in effect and a cold wind battered the modest mansion in which the human was respectfully employed.

The history of yesterday played on Steven's mind, however. He wasn't ignorant to human and ssypno history; they were so interweaved that there were entire degrees just trying to document those first few weeks and months and the resulting fallout of such a cultural upheaval. Not to mention the sordid history of the uncountable humans who had been inside ssypno territories before humanity had been 'discovered'.

'Nobles' in ssypno culture used to have a far greater and a certainly corrupted reach when compared to the current day. The 'Leashing' ssypno called it when the nobles were originally brought down several pegs before humanity was the first step. Their monarch had not been gentle in the first instance, and she certainly wasn't any more delicate in the years that followed. All The Queen had been waiting for was for the general public opinion on humans and their right to freedom to align with her majesty's goals, then came the bloody 'realignment' of the nobles.

Steven shook his head as he reached his ward's room. It didn't matter now; the turmoil of those days was over and for the most part only positive things came from it. A middle class, a dying noble class, the monarchy seemingly taking a step back now that the ssypno people were not being exploited and of course; humanity being treated as equals.

"Morning Noodle!" The man stage whispered into the darkened room, something stirred within.

At this voice the blinds started to change from opaque to translucent, before gently transitioning too completely transparent. The man was assaulted by an anaconda sized serpent child that immediately climbed his legs, wrapped its tail around his waist and four arms hugged him tightly. The child's head and hood rested against the side of the man's neck. He staggered back somewhat but was expecting this. The child was barely out of infancy and yet was already nearly as big as he was.

Steven wrapped his own two arms around the boy and returned the loving hug.

"Well! You're in a good mood today!" The human exclaimed, recalling that when he had put the child down to bed, they had been quite adamant they weren't tired.

Humans were preferred nannies by ssypnos. This mostly thanks to a human's biology. Higher body temperature and a lack of fur meant that humans transferred heat to scales far more efficiently than even a specifically designed heating mat. Humanity was perfect for keeping a ssypno child comfortable and, thanks to all that lovely heat, the child actively didn't want to disengage from the human in question. A child that is hardwired to seek out a nanny was something that countless races had wished for, for millennia. Human nannies were one of the most well-paid employees within the ssypno hegemony.

The literally cold-blooded serpents really only needed two things to grow big and strong. Heat and food. If a ssypno had these throughout their lives in ready supply, there technically was no upper limit to how big they could get or how old they could become. Her Majesty was evidence of that; she spent her days submerged at the palace now, her size making it difficult for her to move about her world. A noble home that wanted their child to grow, would obviously seek out a human precisely so their child could have the best start as a ssypno's size was, culturally, directly tied, to their 'success'. No different from human's flaunting expensive toys, a ssypno would flaunt their size.

So, humans always had a job in ssypno territory these days and Steven happily stepped up to the task.

A far cry from the human smuggling or slavery days, Steven chuckled wryly to himself as he walked from the child's room with the young boy tightly coiled around the man thanks to the chill that permeated the expansive home despite the modern insulation.

"Shall we watch a film today?" He asked the child who simply nodded against the man still pushing the top of his skull and hood up against the human's chin.

With humans being so highly sought after, they enjoyed a fantastic popularity amongst ssypno-kind. Steven considered that it was almost a celebrity level status. No, not almost; he was a celebrity wherever he went these days.

Another side effect, was that humanity as a whole, was the first independent state, that was not only allies with the Ssypno Hegemony, but who's territory was within the Hegemony's sphere of influence as well without being consumed. The Ssypno Hegemony had a whole history of aggressive expansion and absorption of their neighbours and yet, centuries after Sol-3's destruction and humanity's scattering, 'The Human Territories' appeared on maps across the stars as a single system reserved for humans by the ruling monarch all those decades ago. She dedicated to a human she apparently knew who had died of old age at her side.

Some called it a 'reserve' or a 'zoo' and avoided it, others thanked the ssypno monarch and enjoyed the protection offered by the fleets that just so happened to pop up in the adjacent systems. Nobody with ill intentions went after that system and it was just enough, to prevent humanity from dying out, even if we still toed the line all these years later.

Still, as the human and the young ssypno sat and laughed at 'Iggy and the Community Bunch', a cartoon about a human getting into mischief with the long-suffering Guardians running after them, Steven had to admit, whatever the suffering of the past; he was glad they'd made it to this moment at least.

[whomstress]

What it Takes to Feel Real (Part 3)

[Part 1] [Part 2]

Finally, what you've all been waiting for!

Sorry it took so long, been sick and work has been weird. Also gonna be honest not have as much muse to write as I did when I first got into this ship. So other fics will be slower but still got a lot I want to write with these two so you'll get more!

Buckle up y'all most sweetest and angst one yet but also happy ending,

Parenthood was as regular as it could be in the digital world. Caine said Marionette didn’t technically need to eat or sleep, but she was a “fully functioning baby," whatever that meant, so she regularly cried for both.

Of course, even with every supply handed to them when they needed it, having a baby they were unprepared for was overwhelming. Caine had made them a large room with both a main bedroom and a very cartoon-designed baby room, but even then, it felt like there was very little space to breathe at times. Ragatha, as always, tried to handle things with a bright smile, letting as much as she could roll over her shoulders. Which worked for the most part, but Marionette was what Ragatha would call a “grumpy baby” and Jax would call a “hell spawn” when she was upset.

Their baby was lovely and could be the sweetest little angel there was, but taking care of her at times could also be a new kind of torment. She had the temper of a bull and wouldn’t eat or sleep if she was upset for any reason. In fact, the first time she laughed was after she bit Jax, who held a finger in her face. Ragatha expected Jax to get even more upset, but something changed in that moment.

It had been a long day. Longer than most. Ragatha and Jax were exhausted. Marionette was beyond fussy today, and it seemed nothing they did pacified her. But then she laughed. Not a little smile or cute squeak, a genuine laugh. Little giggles erupted from her so much, causing her whole body, no bigger than a foot, and a half to shake completely in joy. A yellow smile stretched from ear to ear.

They both stopped in silence, and Ragatha was the first to break happy tears leaking from her eyes watching her baby so happy. She wiped a tear seeing and quickly came over, giving her daughter a kiss, and looked back at Jax to see him still shocked until a quick glance at Ragatha and then a back to his daughter, still cracking up like it’s the funniest thing to ever happen in her life. And to be fair, she is only 9 months old, so that's very possible.

A smile broke out on his face, matching the size of hers, and he lifted her high in the air, making her laugh and starting a new giggle fit. "Oh, you think that’s funny, you little Gremlin? I knew we shouldn't have fed you after midnight!” He brought her back down to his face, nuzzling their non-existent noses together as she gently cupped his face with her tiny hand. “Yeah, yeah, yeah, laugh it up, she chuckles. You’re just lucky you're my literal baby, or I’d get you back for that already.”

He looked back at Ragatha, who was laughing now too, and he smirked, pulling his baby back down to his chest and finally starting to settle a little. “Oh yeah? Bet you both think my pain is the funniest thing in the world, don’t you?”

She wiped a tear from her face and shrugged. “Weelll it is funny; this is the first thing that made her laugh, you gotta admit.”

“Uh-huh. Well, I can’t get her back. But, y'know, that doesn’t extend to you, right?”

Ragatha's face dropped at the almost dangerous smirk that came across his face. “Oh no.”

“Oh yes.”

Ragatha then turned around and ran for the door, but before she could get a few steps away, a long arm grabbed her by her waist, pulling her off the ground against his side, and she yelled, trying to wiggle out of his grasp as it headed for the shared bedroom.

A yell could be heard down the hall: "Jax, wait! Jax, Jax, JAX!!!” Along with the loud laughter of a small baby.

Everything changed after that. Jax, though a very hands-on father considering his situation, always held their daughter emotionally at arm's length. Even if it wasn’t obvious to anyone else, Ragatha could see it from a mile away. He’d always been very protective of her glaring daggers at Kinger or Gangle if they even reached a hand under his baby, and when he held her, it was close to his chest. But there was always something off there. Something nearly invisible. The way he’d had her off to Ragatha as soon as she was done with her nap. He'd never allow himself to smile more than a moment when she reached out to him or snuggled in his arms. The way his eyes would dart as if he were trying to escape at any sign of her not being human.

All of these reactions would pass by in a second, snapping his mask back on as quickly as it fell when he realized he had allowed himself to slip. It was almost like he was correcting himself for a bad habit.

But after her laugh, the change was abundant, as anyone with eyes could see. He still called her nicknames like “chewbacca” and "gremlin,” but now there were sweeter ones in the mix, like “little wisecracker” or occasionally “bunnydoll.” Ragatha once heard him, in what he thought he was in private, say, “Excussse me, princess!” When she was being fussy and the way her heart warmed and lit up, it was basically a second

The one semi-downside to this was that Marionette became Daddy's little girl with a snap of the hand. Jax would take her on his hijinx and pranks, and even though she was only months new to this world, Ragatha swore she understood more than she should from the way she laughed and hung on to every word Jax said. It was adorable to see a mini-him he was so proud of, but she had also regularly started pulling hair and giving the sweetest baby face before causing some sort of trouble and then laughing like there was no tomorrow. The first time she tricked Gangle to come closer into a hug only to knock off her comedy mask, Jax grabbed her out of Ragatha’s arms, raising her high into the air and congratulating her on doing the prank “just like they planned.” It was cute, of course, but Ragatha would be lying if she said the upcoming prankster/menace like Jax added to the tent was definitely going to cause a lot of headaches.

Despite the fact that everything was going great, Ragatha and Jax were happy, and it felt like nothing could go wrong. But there is a curse in saying those words. As if just the thought of them was not an acknowledgement of the good times but a warning that things were about to change for the worse.

As a fully functioning baby, it would be unnatural for Marionette not to get a cold. Or so Caine explained. Ragatha understood Caine was just trying to make everything more accurate, and the AI never intentionally meant anything harmful. Some of the things he did were just that.

A sick baby like Marionette, though Ragatha hated to say it, was hell on earth. Almost every time she was up, she was screaming until she fell asleep again. And boy did she scream loudly. One way to occasionally get her quiet was to feed her, but she had no appetite, so that didn’t work either. She didn’t need to eat like the rest of them, but she sure liked to. She ate just as regularly as a human baby would, so after days of not even accepting a single drop of milk, it started to feel very odd, despite neither of her parents talking about the elephant in the room.

Unfortunately, that wasn’t the end of it. As time went on, strange things started happening to her that they couldn’t quite ignore anymore. She was on some sort of fixed schedule. It was literal clockwork. Starting at 12 a.m., she’d wake up every two hours to cry and stop, seeming drowsy for 30 minutes. 10 minutes after that bathroom time, cry another 20 times, go back to sleep for another perfectly timed 3 hours, wake up, and start the routine again. It was unnerving to say the least, but with how hectic everything was, it at least gave them time to plan, and being so busy gave them little time to dwell.

That was until one day the worst of her cold hit. Ragatha and Jax were trying to calm her down, hearts breaking at their distressed princess. They were about to go to Caine to finally stop all this, unable to handle it anymore. When something in Marionette shifted. She started heating up to inhuman temperatures, like hot metal, and could only be held by a thick blanket. Her cries started to make strange, high- and low-pitched noises, and Ragatha could swear steam started to roll off her. Jax ran out of the room to find Caine as Ragatha tried to keep herself together while being the most scared she’s ever been in her life, praying this would be solved soon. Then it happened: she reached her peak, and she went completely still with her eyes open for a moment before, within her eyes, two blue-like screens played an ERROR message and a small dial tone coming from her. Ragatha could only stand there in horror without a single thought as her baby lay still in her arms, slowly cooling down.

Caine and Jax popped into the room, and Ragatha could only look up at Jax’s shocked face, finally feeling hot tears run down her eyes, not paying attention to Caine making some ludicrous joke at a time like this, and with a snap of his fingers, their baby was back to normal, sleeping peacefully in her arms, snuggling back to Ragatha. “Oopsie Daisy! I guess that bug was a little too strong for the little one! Well, I rebooted her, so just give it. Hmmmmmm, 2 hours and 72 minutes? She’ll be right as newly rendered low poly rain! HAHAHAHAHA!”

Caine popped away, and the two were left alone in the room, silent, left in ruins. Ragatha looked relief and dread at her daughter sleeping soundly in her arms, her lips starting to wobble, and tears streaming down more violently.

She looked up to Jax in a moment of desperation, seeing his bloodshot eyes looking like he was focused on what was right in front of him and something far beyond here.

“Jax,” she whispered. And then louder when he didn’t respond. His eyes shot at her, and it made her go quiet.

His face contorted into something hideous before snapping back to an unreadable expression. The mask was shifting back on, separating him from this moment. “She’s going to finish rebooting at 3 exactly. Put her in the crib, and I’ll get the diapers and food ready if she even needs them anymore. I *#(@^&* told you Rags. She’s not real.”

Ragatha's breath hitches, ready to fight even in this state, but before she can even open her mouth, he turns, kicking the door open and nearly knocking it off its hinges. Leaving Ragatha to suffer alone.

There was a long thought of following him, scared more than anything that if she didn't, he really wouldn’t come back. But Marionette liked to wiggle like a little worm when she slept, leaving them to wrap her in a swaddle so as not to turn over. So, the moment Ragatha felt her start moving enough to potentially fall, her instincts kicked in, pulling her daughter closer to her and remembering the need to keep her safe above anything else at any moment. Even in a situation as harsh as this one. 

It was only about 20 minutes before Jax came back, and Ragatha needed comfort at this miserable time. Old habits die hard, and she put him first, allowing Jax to take as much time as he needed alone. When he came back with the supplies, she resisted the urge to jump into his arms and take the comfort only he had been able to truly give her.

“...Did you get everything?” Ragatha still couldn’t help herself from needing at least a bit of his attention the second he walked in. She should be filled with relief. He’s back, but he’s so silent, still with a dazed look, that even when he stares right into her eyes, it’s like he doesn't see her. “Jax?”

She calls again to get him to focus, and he nods after a long pause, and something in her breaks as she runs to him, forcing her way into his arms. Holding so tight to his overalls, she shoved herself into his purple fur. She doesn’t even care if he doesn’t hug back; only death could pull her away from him right now. Ragatha doesn’t think she’s ever cried this hard in her life, even before she was here, with what little she can remember.

In this moment, she doesn’t know exactly what she’s asking from him because she needs so much, but when she begs for him with his name, shaky hands finally wrap around her, pulling her in as close as she can to him.

They're both each other's rock right now. The only thing holding them to the ground so they do not sink into insanity is “I’m sorry.” She cries, and he stops.

“Don’t.. Please.” Something wet falls against the cheek; she’s pushed against his; that’s not hers. She forces herself to be quiet as much as she can, except for the occasional hiccup, to pull back and focus on him. She’d been crying so long, and he held her. If he finally said something, it meant he wanted to talk. And God help her, she’d listen.

“Don’t apologize for me. Don’t excuse me because I’m the most *@)#$% on here and can’t go a day without convincing myself. I’ve already lost it, so I really don’t.” He slapped his hand against his face, trying to stop his tears. “Don’t apologize because I’m too weak to love her." He spat like he was sick of himself.

“You do love her, right?" Ragatha had to interrupt despite promising herself to be quiet until he was done. She wouldn’t let him get away with that nonsense. He clenched his teeth hard enough to look like they’d break. “You spend every day with that little girl, trying to make her laugh and be as happy as she can be in here. You’re a good father, Jax.” He scoffs, and she repeats herself. “I know you love her.”

“Of course I love her! That’s the !@#$%$# problem, Ragtha!"

How could that ever be a problem? Her breath hitches, and she’s about to break, but he does first. His voice is so desperate that it wobbles, and he can’t hold back anymore. “You don’t get it, Ragatha! Believing all this is real is what keeps you sane. Don’t you get it? If this is real, what happens to her when we wake up? What happens if we don’t? She can’t come with us!”

That makes her freeze. She’d avoided that thought as much as she could, but he kept going. Looking straight through her eyes to her soul, she opened a forbidden door she never allowed herself through. “Our bodies, wherever they are, aren’t going to live forever, but she will. She’s going to be stuck here without us, with no way out! I don’t even know if I’ll be able to find you, Ragatha. What if I don’t remember any of this? What if I don’t remember you? What if I forget about her?” His voice is hoarse when he says, “Please, understand. This can’t be real, because if it is, in here or out there, I couldn’t take it.”

She wants to explode again, but he’s the one who needs comfort right now. And really, comforting someone else has always allowed her own comfort to bloom. Showing such kindness and understanding to someone in the same situation allowed her to also show that same sympathy for herself. She’s so gentle that when she grabs his face, it makes him flinch.

Tender hands pull him to her, and she starts laying the slowest, sweetest kisses along his face, acoss his jaw, peppered where his tears leak. So soft but deep, like she's trying to get him to feel every bit of her love she puts into them. across Every time he tries to deny her or says another insult to himself, she hushes him and gives him words of compassion and endearment with another kiss.

A hiccup and a tear. Kiss. "Shhh, it’s okay. You’re okay."

He swallows and says, "I’m horrible.”

Kiss. “You’re perfect.”

“I’m sorry," he whispers.

Kiss. “I love you.”

Hugging him like she’d never let go, she presses her cheek against his, melting into each other's embrace. “I love you. You love us. You love Marionette, and she loves you, and nothing in this world or any other can teach you that love lesson. Even if it’s slightly, she definitely likes you better.” She adds, pulling back with a little pout.

This makes Jax burst out in laughter. “What can I say? Little monster, has good taste!” Which makes Ragatha eyeroll before quickly joining him.

They laugh, and he pokes fun at Ragatha, finally admitting being jealous, though she has denied it so many times.

“Yeah, yeah, so funny! I hope you're real pleased with yourself for stealing the girl I literally brought to life.” She huffed but wasn't really mad.

Jax leans back with a smirk made by the devil. “Never been prouder, Doll!”

“You-” Ragatha points at him when their baby goes off like an airhorn, making them jump. They look at the clock, and it’s exactly 3 o'clock, and they stare at each other for a moment, not quite sure if they're ready to face this yet, when she lets out another wail, and Jax piches the bridge between his eyes, stepping away to stretch his back with a sigh. “I swear that girl is half banshee.”

A giggle escapes her despite not appreciating the comparison, and she gets the supplies he brang earlier out while he walks to Marionettes room to calm her on behalf of the whole tent.

When she comes in, she sees him holding her like always, as if everything that happened today didn't almost straight-up extract them both. He lifts her up quickly and brings her back down until she starts giggling, and the smile on his face when she does almost cures every bit of hurt she felt today.

Jax brings her face to his and kisses her nose, causing another giggle. "Ooh, that’s my bunnydoll! Only Daddy can make you laugh like this, huh? No wonder Daddy’s your favorite.” He side-eyes Ragatha with his yellow teeth stretching as far across his face as they can. She’s about to give him an earful, but in a second it gets silent enough to hear a pin drop when a voice that comes from neither of them says, “Da.”

“Did you hear that? Did she just-” Jax said his last look completely wiped off his face, looking at Ragatha for confirmation. Ragatha feels a smile stretch across her face; she thinks rival Jax’s a moment ago and nods eagerly.

“Da!” Marionette says it again louder, calling for her dad’s attention. “Holy #*(@”

“Jax!” Ragatha snaps back for a moment before he runs over to her, making their baby squeal. Picking her up in a hug, with them twirling them around laughing. And her memory goes back to the time she wished this was his reaction when he first found out she was pregnant. Ragatha already knew he loved them, but this felt like a miracle.

It didn't matter anymore what he needed to think to keep himself here. As long as he was here, as long as they could keep having these moments, everything was fine; everything was perfect. Tears leak from her eyes again, but in pure bliss, Jax spots her and puts her down with a roll of the eyes. "Jeez, Dollface, haven’t you had enough crying for the year today? Come on, it’s time to celebrate! I really did convince my first baby to love me more than her own mother! Gotta tell everyone!”

Ragatha's heart stops when he says “first baby.” Does that mean he wants another? Her heart swells, then she sees him walk towards the door, calling for Pomni, her best friend, of course, with all the smugness in the world. “Hey Pomni! Guess who the better parent is!”

“JAX!”

[fagcrisis]

sorry what do you mean your mother's coup. elaborate

this ended up being long as hell so readmore time

so i live in this old fucking apartament building right, turns 120 soon, hasnt really been renovated in 50 years. and our apartament has the attic built in, which wasnt a feature originally and the previous tenant did it himself, badly, meaning weve had a hole in our roof for about 5ish years now that we just have not been able to fix. last november we had a pretty big storm that fucked the hole up even worse and our previous solution of just "put a bucket under it and leave the room" has stopped working because too much water was getting in and my sister had to start sleeping in a different room so safe to say, shit state of affairs

my mum got a contractor to come take a look at it and the dude concluded that its dangerous to be left unfixed and hes gonna have to climb in between the attic walls and the roof bc due to the hole theres a shitton of mold that needs to be cleaned out. overall this wouldve cost us 600k forint thats more than my mum makes in 2 months and i had 9-5 at that point but my shit salary was not gonna fix this. so my mum had a breakdown and decided that well sell the apartament and try moving, which sucks bc when we got this place it was still cheap but since then the housing market has gone to shit and we wouldve had to live in a rental we probably wouldnt have been able to afford. but my mum still called an agent to check the house out, and he told us that theres no way were selling it, because of the big fucking hole, the messed up pipes and bc the building isnt insulated (legally cant be bc its a historical monument lmao. europe)

HOWEVER he also said. since this is an apartament building with 12 flats we have a house representative and we pay *google translate help me* common cost every month, to cover repairs on the house, that we shouldnt have to pay for the repairs, the house should. cause. its the whole houses roof not just our apartaments.

my mum went to the house rep (józsi) to ask about this, and he told her that this isnt true and that he wont pay for the repairs. which made my mum mad and she went and found a lawyer who said the house does have to pay for repairs. but józsi was still like i will not.

so my mum talked to all 12 of our neighbouring flats individually and found out that literally everybody has grievances with this dude. there has been an ENTIRE TREE growing on the roof for years now that we havent been able to get cleaned out, the staircase is borderline life threatening to use, we could technically get authorization for insulating the house but the rep needs to apply and józsi hasnt, one of the gates to the yard is like not working, etc

they ended up calling the first house meeting in years (were supposed to have those every month lol) where they ended up voting to have a new rep, and also to fix our roof. which got fixed by the way, and the mold was also cleaned out

BUT the story doesnt end here bc they still need to vote a new rep in. and my mum found this company who represents apartament buildings professionally and sure itd cost us some money but we pay the common cost anyway, and they have contractors they work with so itd be soooo easy to fix shit in the house. but for some reason some people decided they want this dude instead, who owns one of the flats in the building but does not live here, his insane mother does who hates me. and he DOESNT LIVE HERE the entire problem with józsi was, that he was like not helpful in any way and now they want a guy who doesnt even live here??

ANYWAY TODAY THE PLOT FUCKING THICKENED. because. my mum started looking over the houses finances with 2 of our neighbours one of whom is i think a lesbian but im not sure anyways they found out that józsi has been STEALING MONEY. FROM THE COMMON COST. WHICH IS WHY FUCKALL GOT FIXED IN THE HOUSE!!!!

anyway the coup is still ongoing but i hope u enjoyed my mums tale of intrigue. shes having so much fun w this shes having secret meetings with people to talk about this all day

[queercontrarian]

my first azris fanfic ehehe

feels like it was just hours ago i told @iftheshoef1tz about this idea (because it was literally hours ago and i just wanted to contribute something to romance week. i know it's not technically meetcute day, but it's whatever day so i can do what i want). anyways, have the unedited first chapter of my modern azris agegap au snippet bundle - that's a lot of words. i'll shut up now. enjoy.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Azriel is already in pain when he wakes up, which is usually a bad omen. His knee feels tender, and he hasn’t even gotten out of bed yet. It doesn’t bode well for the day he has planned, and he wonders if he should just call Cassian and cancel their hike for today. 

With a sigh he forces himself to throw the warm blanket to the side and at least get his feet on the ground. One small step towards starting this day. A coffee would be nice, he thinks, but Nesta has been on his ass to limit his consumption, which is ironic because his sister-in-law drinks much more coffee than he ever has, but if he has one now he won’t allow himself to have one at Cassian’s house later, and he definitely needs that one to make it through the afternoon and the evening without prematurely passing out on his couch. 

With nothing else to do, Azriel stands and slowly makes his way to the kitchen, and yes, the knee is definitely going to cause problems. Once again he curses himself for deciding to walk home in the dark after getting shitfaced at Cassian’s and Nesta’s party, for not seeing that dumb root sticking from the ground and for getting his foot stuck under it. Most of all for having gotten to an age where the pain in his joints doesn’t disappear after a maximum of two days. He knows that he’s not twenty-five anymore, but it’s been more than a month since the party, and he can still feel it. Maybe someone should just shoot him, like a lame horse. 

Standing in the kitchen he stares at the coffee pot on the stove, a fancy little espresso maker Rhys got him for his fifty-third birthday, along with a trip to Italy. He realises he hasn’t left these woods since that trip, except for his weekly trip to get groceries at the town’s supermarket, and visiting Rhys and Cassian at their homes located around that same forest he lives in. He’s been moving around, contained to that twenty-five mile radius, for two years. 

On second thought, maybe he will have a coffee. While he reaches for the espresso box - another expensive gift from his friends - and both his knee and his shoulder pop this time, he remembers that he went to Greece for Feyre and Rhys’ wedding. That was last year, so he can still count that towards his “recently been active” list. Hanging out with family, travelling overseas. Suck on that, Cassian, he thinks. I’m going places, I’m not rotting away all alone in my cabin. I don’t need to “get out more”. I don’t need to “meet new people”. I’m perfectly fine where I am. 

Granted, he is alone right now - he takes his eyes off the stove to look towards the window where Mr. Goggles used to sit. The cat had already been old - and named, as Az always feels the need to stress - when Feyre had given him into Azriel’s care because there was no space for him in Rhysand’s house. It wasn’t that they didn’t have the room - Rhysand’s mansion has more rooms than the two of them can possibly know what to do with - Rhys is just very allergic to cats. So Az had taken the grumpy old furball in and they had lived together for nearly three years. Now Mr. Goggles sleeps in the earth below his favourite window sill, under a small bush of white pansies that Elain says remind her of the fur pattern on his face. Azriel wonders what flowers she’ll put on his grave when he dies. Will they bury him next to the window behind his favourite armchair too? He wants to be cremated, but he’d be fine with a cardboard urn like Mr. Goggles’ casket.

The whistling and clattering of the espresso maker pulls him out of his thoughts. It’s not all that bad. Sure, maybe retiring so early was a mistake - he doesn’t need the money, he just misses having something to do - but when Cassian and Rhys left he hadn’t felt like being the only one to stay behind. Maybe he underestimated just how empty his cabin would feel once he spent more than just the nights and weekends there, with his brothers spending the majority of their time with their wives, ten miles through the forest in the homes they’d built for themselves. He’s not lonely, he doesn’t need or want anyone else in his house, or his life for that matter. The area feels crowded enough with just Old Man Schmidt down the street. Maybe he’ll get another cat. Nesta has mentioned occasionally seeing one roaming about where her office is.

While he sips his coffee he’s still debating whether to call the hike off - his body tells him yes but his brain says if he mentions it to Cassian he’ll come to his house to inspect the old injury himself, and he hasn’t even told him he fell in the first place, and he will undoubtedly notice the pathetic state of Azriel’s house. Everything is reasonably tidy, but it’s painfully obvious no other human being has stepped through the door in months, maybe even a year. The last time he had people over was for Mr. Goggles’ funeral, for Christ’s sake. Azriel shifts his weight onto the damaged knee and immediately regrets it. He bites back a pained groan, letting his head fall back against the cabinet.

Cass would tell him to see a physician. Az hates going to the doctor, and not only for the usual reasons - he hadn’t gotten the memo that it was a bad idea to sleep with, have a messy entanglement and then ditch the only medical professional for nearly 200 miles. He’s not gotten a check-up in almost four years. Neither of his brothers knows that though, and he would rather die than tell them, both about the problem and the reason behind it. Fifty-five feels like the worst age to come out to your life-long best friends. 

Summer is already fading, but the sun is still warm on Azriel’s skin. He tilts his face up to the sky as he walks, before he quickly remembers he doesn’t want to sustain another injury and he concentrates on the dirt road under his feet again. He grits his teeth through the strain on his leg and keeps walking. 

The quickest path to Cassian’s house leads him from the treeline where his cabin is straight through the clearing past Old Man Schmidt’s property and through the woods. He’s walked this path a thousand times, but something is off today. Old Man Schmidt never has guests over, but this morning there’s a new car in his driveway. When Azriel crosses the street he realises it’s not just the new car, there’s a moving van as well, and parts of the garden are ripped open from construction, old furniture and materials, tools and workers all over the lawn. Az has always been curious, and he’s a little perturbed that he hasn’t noticed what has apparently been going on for a few days already. Has he really been that disconnected from his surroundings? He wanders off the path and up to the fence, leaning against the gate. He tells himself it looks at least a little cool but really he’s just trying to take the weight off his knee. He doesn’t recognise the licence plate on the car, and he tries to look around for Schmidt but he’s nowhere to be found. The last time they spoke he hadn’t mentioned anything about wanting to sell his house. Then again, the last time they spoke was six months ago. Maybe things have changed. 

“Can I help you?” Azriel turns his head so fast it almost gives him whiplash, his carefully combed hair immediately falling into his face, obstructing his view. He was so immersed in his snooping that he hadn't noticed the man stepping up to the fence. 

“Um, yeah. I’m looking for Schmidt? Boris Schmidt, he lives here,” he manages to say, buying himself a minimal amount of valuable time as he sizes the other man up. He seems to be in his late twenties or early thirties, tall and muscular with silky short hair that is so red Azriel wonders if it’s dyed. None of Feyre’s attempts to colour her hair have turned out this perfect though, so he thinks it just might be real, or done by a very, very pricey stylist. Everything about the stranger screams expensive, from his hair to his crisp white shirt and leather boots. He even smells like it, and Azriel is suddenly very aware that out of all the things he has on, only the shirt and the underwear have been washed in the last three days, and he can’t even remember the last time he put on cologne. 

“Mr. Schmidt doesn’t live here anymore. Hasn’t for over a month,” the stranger explains, and his voice is deep and smooth, feels like it wraps itself around Azriel, sliding through his ears and into his brain, muddling his thoughts.

“Oh,” is all he can get out. There’s a short pause where the stranger only stares at Az with his amber eyes, waiting for him to say something more.

Then he asks “Are you the neighbour?”

“Yes.” He clears his throat. “Yes I am. Are you moving in?” The stranger smiles, and good Lord above he is beautiful. Azriel swallows hard around the feeling suddenly bubbling up in his chest, through his throat and spilling into his mouth. He is too old to be reacting like this over a pretty boy.

“I am. Eris Vanserra,” the stranger introduces himself, reaching his hand over the gate. Azriel shakes it.

“Azriel,” he answers, then quickly adds, “Azriel Kantor.”

“Pleasure to meet you.” Azriel nearly wishes Eris would stop talking because it is incredibly hard for him to concentrate on coming up with answers when his hand is burning where the man’s skin has touched his, and this is getting ridiculous. Just because he hasn’t gotten laid in one and a half years?

“The pleasure’s all mine,” he says, and means it for once. “I, uh, I live right down there. Can’t miss it.” He vaguely gestures behind himself with the burned hand, trying to shake that feeling off. 

“Not like there’s many other houses around,” Eris replies smoothly, a faint smirk still on his lips, and Azriel has to pinch his arm to stop himself from staring. 

“Yes. Only me. But my friends live south from here right through the forest. I’m actually going to visit them-” He trails off, and unfortunately the other man picks it up right where he left it.

“Azriel,” he says, embarrassingly breathless from forcing out that one word. Way too late he realises that maybe it was intentional, maybe Eris would prefer not calling him by his first name, and not having Azriel call him by his in turn. He’s being awfully presumptuous. But Vanserra only hesitates for a moment before giving him another smile.

“Well, I don’t want to keep you." Eris is already stepping away from the fence. "I guess I’ll see you around, Mr. Kantor.”

“Azriel,” he repeats, slowly, savouring every letter. “Lovely to make your acquaintance.” He lets a few seconds pass by silently where neither of them move. Then he turns and leaves him standing at the gate, glued to the spot like an idiot.

“You too,” Az calls dumbly after him, too late and too slow. Eris doesn’t look back, only lifts his hand with the smallest hint of a wave, and Azriel quickly looks away and returns to the dirt path, hands buried in the pockets of his pants. 

Miles and hours later he can still hear the echo of his name from Eris’ lips in his mind when he raises his hand to ring Cassian’s doorbell. 

Maybe he’ll walk back later instead of having Cassian drop him off at home after the hike. His knee doesn’t seem that bad anymore.

[hydrogenandhelium]

I posted before about how insane work is right now because I’m learning TWO new roles at the same time. I literally went from focusing on research and one highly specialized subject of consulting to having almost 0 time for research (that I still have to do) to having to consult on SO MANY THINGS the last month. And that’s just for one of the new roles. The other new role is being our technical lead’s backup, which I agreed to do 1 week ago and only really started training on today. But guess what the tech lead is going to be out all next week and somehow IM SUPPOSED TO BE IN CHARGE

The thing is I’m doing great. I’m not even “faking it til I make it” I actually do know what I’m doing. But like

HOW DID I GET HERE

WHY DO I STILL HAVE IMPOSTER SYNDROME

I’m 36 years old and I have a PhD. If it hasn’t gone away yet I don’t think it’ll ever go away

[la-principessa-nuova]

I need someone in my life other than my family. Right now the only people in my life outside of transactional relationships like coworkers (I have had actual friends at work before, but not now) are my siblings, who I talk to most weeks, and my parents, who I vary between seeing a few times a week and daily.

But outside of them I have nobody, which makes me feel very dependent on them for emotional support, even though they’re not good at that. And the truth is most of the stress in my life is from them, and the rest is from things I need to unlearn from dealing with them.

Strap in for another long rambly venting post.

For whatever reason, my parents are extremely judgy and I’m only starting to realize the ludicrous extent of it now. In preparation for coming out, to make it less jarring, I started showing my hand a little (I mean that as a playing cards metaphor, not literally) and trying to allow femininity wherever it didn’t cross the line into presenting femininely.

But the thing is, my parents’ line for what I’m allowed to be is a perfect trace around what I’d been. I started off so simply by just wearing a shirt with some bright colors. It wasn’t even anything out of the ordinary, like I see men wearing shirts like this any day I go out in public, but they absolutely freaked out about it.

Like I walk in and immediately get the comments where someone says something looks bad without saying it looks bad, so i do the normal thing of explaining it as I’m trying to wear more color and that I knew they’d be surprised by it but basically politely asking them to get over it and move on. So any reasonable person would think, “OK, I told this person I don’t like their shirt. I can move on.” But they didn’t.

My mom then proceeded to refuse to drop the topic the whole time I was there and keep trying to explain why it’s objectively bad and trying to reason that her opinion was fact, but my dad just gets in this bad mood where he’s grumpy about it and any time I say something to him he makes a joke or comment about the shirt before responding.

So after a bit of waiting for them to get over it, I went home and cried.

So then a couple months later I’m now privately wearing a more feminine pair of glasses I prefer but wearing my old pair when I leave home so my parents don’t see the new ones. But I’m getting sick of my old ones because they feel more masculine to me now (even though both pairs are technically labeled as gender neutral) and because honestly the style is about 15 years out of date at this point.

Side note: I just went to look up something about my glasses and on the manufacturer’s website, they’re listed as women’s glasses, but on the site I bought them from, they’re listed as gender neutral and have a photo of a male model wearing them. Either way, I think gendering of glasses is pointless and I’m only even looking into it now because I’m trying to be technically right for when I argue with my parents that I have the right to wear the glasses I like.

The only thing explicitly feminine about my new glasses is that they’re rose gold colored, and even then only fading into rose gold on the sides and a bit of the front, with the rest being normal gold colored, so after a while I decided I wanted to just get a second pair in the regular gold color and start wearing those instead.

So today they arrived and I was very excited, but I was going to see my mom at an event in public and didn’t want to have to deal with her reaction during the event, so I didn’t wear them until afterwards, when I went to my parents’ house. Again, I anticipated some initial comments. After the last time I even anticipated some hostility, but they were just blatantly rude on a level I don’t understand. Like I couldn’t even believe they were like that because if I was ever like that to somebody in front of them they would yell at me for it.

Once again, my mom tried to explain why she’s not liking them as an objective truth, but my dad was even worse, just repeatedly talking about how he didn’t like them. This time, I pushed back and said basically, “OK, I figured you wouldn’t like them, but I do, so you can stop saying it,” and even in response to that, after saying how he just can’t help but point out the truth, he continued repeating himself about how he just doesn’t like them.

Like, sure, if he really does not have the self-control to not say when he doesn’t like something, fine. Whatever. I can deal with him saying it once. But if someone has explicitly told you they’ve heard your opinion and please stop saying it over and over because it’s hurtful and saying it again is just bullying at this point, it is bad enough to argue that it isn’t bullying, but to keep saying it? IT’S A PAIR OF GLASSES, and they’re on MY FACE.

I found myself in the situation I often find myself in when I have a bad dream where my dad is being a jerk, where I just want to scream back in his face and swear and let out all the anger I have towards when he acts like this. In the dreams I always do it and it feels so good, but in real life, I think of the consequences.

I wanted to shout in his face that he can take his opinions and fuck off, go home, and block his number. But I had just taken the first bite of my burger so instead I said if that’s how he’s going to be, I was going to finish my burger and go home and he can deal with \<family issue he asked me for help with recently that was absolutely asking too much\>, and it didn’t have the same punch behind it.

And I left out the worst part. Lately my dad keeps looking at me with this look like he’s worried and disappointed about something. I’ve been wondering if either he saw something and found out I’m trans or is starting to suspect it from the things I’ve done to stop limiting myself to the tiny box they’ve put me in.

In response to my glasses, after telling me they looked like they’re for girls and me explaining that they’re gender neutral just like all my previous glasses, he looked me dead in the eye and asked, “Are you gay and not telling me?” Not the usual “If you’re gay, you can tell us,” or the preferable, “If you’re gay, we don’t have a problem with it.” It was “Are you gay and not telling me?” with a face like he was interrogating me about something I’d done wrong.

In the confusion after that question and me acting offended by it rather than answering and my mom chiming in that it’s not an appropriate thing to say to someone in response to their glasses, I managed to avoid answering, and managed to just brush it off as him being mean about my glasses when he asked again (exactly the same wording).

Ignoring how NOT OK all of it is, and I was after this for a moment, I want to unpack why this question is so difficult for me in particular. As a closeted trans lesbian who has trouble lying especially to my parents, this is a very difficult question to be asked for many reasons:

If I say yes, the implication is that I am a man who likes men, which is just completely wrong.

If I say no, I’m lying, which is completely the right thing to do, but especially in the shock of the moment I can’t handle.

If I explain the actual truth, I have to come out as trans, which is especially difficult when my dad fully buys into the transphobic conspiracies, and on top of that doesn’t even remotely understand any of it to begin with, because even before this recent push of extra transphobia, back when he tried to be accepting, he got confused and would ask things like, “Trans woman? Does that mean boys dressed as girls or girls dressed as boys?”

The fact that the question is always gay and not trans makes me wonder why they always say it that way. Because even when there’s implied acceptance in the question, it’s still acceptance of being a gay man. Which is less of a technicality than you might think, because their acceptance of gay people is way further along than their acceptance of trans people. So it makes me wonder are they thinking trans in their head but saying gay so they don’t promise acceptance they can’t give but can ask the question? Or is the idea of me being trans so unthinkable that they see me being feminine and wonder if I’m gay? Or do they still think trans is a type of gay?

It’s hard to open up to people who have historically been so judgy of me, and especially when they’re in the middle of judging me.

It’s hard to open up about this stuff in general because my whole life I’ve avoided talking about my romantic feelings and gender IRL at all as a result of being conditioned from a young age that if I mention a crush on a girl I will be teased for it (and in my dad’s case sometimes within earshot of a girl that I consider a friend and he started teasing me about when I mentioned she exists, starting when i was too young to even like people yet anyway), and being rewarded for being more masculine and teased for being more feminine.

It just makes me want to cut off all contact when they do things like this, because every day I spend so much effort trying to live up to their expectations and so much effort trying to unlearn that these expectations because they’re overly harsh compared to what most people think (e.g. never wear any pants other than jeans, khakis, khaki shorts, or swim trunks), and on top of that I have to mask my gender and mask my neurotype, and it’s just too much to keep up with, and if they weren’t in my life, I could just deal with the issues that are actually issues.

It’s also just like, if this is their reaction to new glasses, what are they going to say when I come out?

I don’t know if that’s the end of this rant or not, but I’m falling asleep typing now so I guess that’s it.

[sopefulheart]

marriage in 'gilmore girls' (pt. 2)

here in part 2, i’m gonna talk about dean getting married when he knows he's still in love with rory and go off on a small tangent about dean.

there are extremely mixed opinions when it comes to old deany boy. mine is no. i don’t like dean. the first time around, my first ever watch of this show in late 2021, i did like him. i loved him, admittedly.

it was only when i watched a video essay on “why everyone hates dean forester” on youtube, i came to start disliking him and thank god i opened up my eyes because that boy was a walking red flag.

but we’re not necessarily here to talk about dean today, we’re here to talk about one of the most crappy decisions he ever made: getting married to lindsay at 19 while he was still in love with rory.

he and lindsay’s relationship when they were dating seemed great from where rory was standing. we only ever get to see from her perspective when they’re dating, since there are little to no scenes of dean and lindsay alone of course.

there’s then that scene where he tells rory he’s getting married and she says “why not date? dating’s fun.” then he gets all offended as if this isn’t the worst decision ever.

like yes, rory did dump you for jess about two years ago. TWO YEARS.

but i digress.

simply what is the rush? you’ve already got the girl. stay dating and FIGURE YOUR FUTURE OUT BEFORE YOU MAKE A LIFELONG COMMITMENT AT 19.

19. technically, you are still a teenager. nineTEEN.

and here lorelai was thinking that dean is so responsible, dean is this, dean is that… i guess you can’t predict everything that’s gonna happen, now can you.

he wasn’t even mature enough to get married.

literally right before the affair, dean swore he had done everything he possibly could to try to save his marriage.

then he blows up at lindsay for answering his phone after. she should’ve been fighting back as far as i’m concerned, i believe dean treated her so poorly for that two months they were married.

it reminds me of when jess told him “you’re gonna make some woman a fine doormat one day.”

he wasn’t wrong…

nevertheless, she’s calm, she’s not yelling, she’s trying to keep the peace. she’s the one trying hard to save her marriage, not dean. he already knew it was over after the affair.

T H E P A R A L L E L S.

it’s like the ‘that damn donna reed’ episode all over again but in real life. that was the first red flag.

lindsay stays at home learning how to cook roast beef for dean. dean works all hours of the night and day trying to save money for them to get a bigger place and a car and basically a LIFE without being college-educated.

he just wanted it to be a housewife situation at the end of the day. he didn’t want anything for lindsay, he never did. he wanted to come home to a huge meal and a wife that cooked and cleaned for him. that was the other reason his marriage didn’t work other than the fact he barely spent time with his wife because he was OUT MEETING RORY.

crazy.

but that’s dean. that’s what he wanted from the start and i’m glad rory didn’t get caught in that trap at the end.

i actually have so much more to say about marriage in this show but i may stop here. in the future, there will be many more posts about the characters but for now…

see ya <3

[maren-gvf]

She’s Going, Going, Gone.

A short story written by Eden N.

Warnings: Sad content, goodbyes, heartache

Word count: 3119

Recommended playlist:

Four years. Four years of standing through hour-long rambunctious photoshoots, attaching luggage tags to unattended suitcases, scrambling to find lost lucky guitar picks, and screaming, “Asses in the van or you get left, MOVE please!”. God. Time flies.

The start of it all: 10 years ago, you were dragged into watching Ronnie’s twin brothers run a “test” band rehearsal in the eclectic, messy Kiszka garage. You knew they were good. No. You knew they were great. But what you didn’t know was that technically was the start of what would be your eventual, literal, actual, serious, real career as “The OG” official band manager for Greta Van Fleet. Five days later, in school, an overly-excited Josh made you sign your name on a blue crooked dotted line drawn on a slightly wrinkled sheet of lined paper, underneath multiple large words like, “solemnly”, “aleatory contract”, and ��liability”. Not long after that, you were signing your name on a much heavier, thicker sheet of paper in a much nicer, professional meeting room. Still, the words in that contract were surprisingly similar to the first, which to this day is folded neatly in the front pocket of your GVF Documents binder.

This was never, ever the plan. The plan was: 1. Attend Boston College and major in Theatre Arts. 2. Land an amazing audition for Broadway. 3. Ace said audition and become a star. To say you used to be a dreamer would be a vast understatement. But after a week of pleading from all four boys, some extreme bribery, and several long discussions with Mom and Dad, you were miraculously allowed to take a gap year and start booking the band. The rest is history.

Now, seated in the tiny kitchen of what’s been called the “Getaway Cabin”, you watch through the window as Jake slowly pulls the truck back into the gravel driveway below. He had to take a minute away. Or 30. It’s been a hell of a day. You’ve been an avid participant of many arguments in the past, but today takes the cake. Today is the worst day. Not just in terms of fights, but ever in your whole existence. Ever.

You see, when you spend months at a time with the same four crazy people every single day for years, you kinda start to love them a little bit. And hate them. And admire them. And everything in between. You watch them learn, and you learn. You learn that Josh refuses to eat mustard on anything and nothing pisses off Jake more than a bad parking job. You learn that Sam could tell you almost anything about outer space and Danny won’t travel anywhere without his slippers. You just don’t realize while you’re noticing all the littlest parts about each of them, they’re doing the exact same to you.

So yeah, you’re kinda bonded. For like, forever. Until today. Because at some point, after the universe plants a dream and a passion inside of you, that takes over. And you ignored it for a long, long time. But you can’t push it away forever.

You hear the front door open, and then close softly. The old wood floor creaks as Jake slowly makes his way back into the kitchen. You haven’t moved. Your hands cup your cheeks as you watch him take off his sunglasses. His eyes are swollen and red. He sets them gently on the kitchen counter, and slowly takes back his seat in the small wooden chair across from you, arms crossed. He pauses to rub his right eye gently before speaking.

“I know. I know you have to do this. I know.”

You feel the warm tears roll slowly down your cheeks again. There’s really no use in trying to stop them anymore.

“I wish it wasn’t right now. And I wish you told us in a different way. A better way,” he says slowly, looking out the window, brows slightly furrowed in a painful look of contemplative confusion. It goes silent for a moment.

“I’m happy for you. And I’m fucking proud of you,” he chokes, barely finishing the last word. He’s looking right at you now, teary-eyed, and you take in every beautiful feature of that face you’ve gotten to know so well. There was always something more with him. Always. Ask anyone, they’d tell you. It was painstakingly noticeable between the two of you. You’d kissed four times, each time swearing it would be the last. The fourth one was two weeks ago. Some things never change.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry I didn’t give you more time. I’m really, really sorry. But like I’ve said, it’s Broadway. It’s New York. Like, like this is big, this is it, this what I want,” you whisper, shaking your head in disbelief. “This is the hardest decision I’ve ever had to make in my life ever and-”

“We just love you,” Jake cuts. “We just love you. And I don't know how we do this… all this… without you. But I want you to be happy,” he nods, brushing his nose, “You deserve…shit…sorry,” he pauses, looking up towards the ceiling before continuing, “you deserve every good thing in this whole fucking world. Every good thing,” he rushes, before covering his eyes with his hands, elbows resting on his knees. His shoulders begin shaking.

It makes you sick to see him cry like this, your stomach is churning. He’s not much of a crier, never has been. You can’t help but move towards him, lowering to his level and gently placing his head into the nook of your right shoulder. You hug him into you tightly, cradling the back of his head with one hand. He smells just so…Jake. You squeeze your eyes as tight as possible, holding back what would have been the hardest sob of your life. He sniffs, and finally moves his arms around you, pulling you into his chest while you both breathe in the mellow silence.

The sound of footsteps coming downstairs pulls you apart. It sounds like Josh. The rest of the boys had stayed upstairs, keeping themselves as far away from the conflict today as possible. Fights didn’t usually happen like that. Normally, Josh would’ve interjected a smart-aleck comment and immediately taken Jake’s side, only worsening the situation, while Danny would repeatedly say, “shut up” in the most monotone way possible. Also worsening the situation. But Sammy always took your side. Right or wrong, without fail, every single time. Usually you won.

Josh slowly peers around the kitchen frame, clutching one side of the doorway with two hands. An expression of, “I already know what’s about to happen” covers his face. He moves around the corner and leans his back against the counter, arms crossed. He doesn’t break eye contact with you.

“Well shit,” he says with a slight accent, a sad attempt to lighten the mood. “You’re really doing it, huh?”

You nod slowly, smiling apologetically. Jake lifts his head to face his brother.

“I am. I have to. How much did you hear?” you ask, wiping your cheeks and sitting back in your chair, knees to your chest.

“Mm. A lot. I think we got the gist of it all,” he replies, hands waving in the air. You watch each other's eyes for a moment, the room silent except an occasional sniff from Jake. The pit in your stomach is deepening.

“Ughhh,” Josh groans, tilting his head forward until his chin rests on his chest. He stays there for a moment, before meeting your eyes again. He’s tearing up now too, which only makes you start all over again.

“This is the worst!” you laugh, wiping away at your cheeks for the millionth time. Jake nods and stands up to fill a glass of water. Josh walks over to you, and you get up to meet him in a sniffly, rib crushing embrace. He rocks you side to side, one of his many, many signature moves. After planting a long, hard kiss on the top of your head, he pulls away and slaps one hand onto each of your cheeks, slightly squishing your face. You hear Jake shuffle quietly out of the room. He pulls you close until his forehead touches yours, and the two of you close your eyes.

“You’re stellar. Simply an exquisite human being,” he whispers. You smile. “Who’s gonna dance on tables with me and quote lines from Cabaret?”

Immediately, the two of you break out into shaking laughter, falling into one another until you truly cannot breathe.

“Oh God, Josh I think I’m making the wrong choice,” you say, scanning his eyes frantically, waiting for his answer. He shakes his head firmly.

“No. Nope,” he says, putting a finger up. “I’ll stop you right there. We are going to be fine, and you’re going to be…well you’re gonna be perfect.”

“But I don’t leave until Tuesday. I’ve got like a whole week left. Mostly for packing, I have a shit ton to pack. But I was thinking a party or something,” you ramble, while he stands there nodding vigorously in agreement.

“Absolutely. We’ll do a send-off, Kiszka-Wagner style. It’ll be glorious.”

“Jake’s acting like the flight’s tomorrow morning though, I don’t get it.”

“Well I think,” he pauses, turning to look out the window. “I think this is hitting a little harder for him, ya know?”

“Yeah. Yeah okay, I know.”

“So before you go-go, just make sure he knows… all the things he should probably know,” he says, raising his eyebrows in suggestion. “Just tell him.”

“Mhm.”

“I’m not saying he loves you any more than the rest of us do, because he’s not allowed to, but in case he does…” he trails, leaving you with everything you need to know. You nod in understanding.

“Well. I do have to get back into town. There’s just a whole lot of crap on the to-do list,” you sigh, rubbing your eyes.

“Absolutely. And we’ll be right behind you. But in like three days. And then we’ll celebrate all the joys and beautiful memories and blah blah blah,” he smiles, patting you gently on the side of your waist.

“K. I should probably go talk to Sam and Danny I think.”

“Yeah. They already know what’s going on, but go say bye,” he says, nodding to the staircase. You squeeze his hand, and head out into the hallway, but stop at the front of the stairs to glance back into the kitchen. He’s taken a seat at the table, back turned away from you, staring quietly out the window.

The second floor is mostly silent, except for two low voices coming out of Sam’s room. You see his door is cracked, and knock briefly before opening. Sam is directly across the room, legs stretched out on the long window seat with his back against the wall. Danny’s sprawled on the floor, staring at the ceiling with arms propped behind his head. He rolls over to stand up as you hesitantly walk in.

“Oh man,” Sam heaves, shifting his legs off the cushion and clasping his hands together.

“I come bearing news,” you joke, stomach in knots.

“You’re gonna be a New Yorker now! Always wanted to go there,” Sam enthuses, while Danny smiles at you solemnly, hands in his pockets.

“And now you can! When you visit me every single month!”

“As much as it sucks, because it sucks pretty bad, this is going to be so cool for you. Like you’re going to kill it out there,” Danny says, turning to face Sam who begins nodding in agreement.

“Hell yeah. No doubts. Zero. Plus it won’t even be that bad, we’ll see you all the time, I know it,” he says, pulling at the threads on the seat cushion.

“I’m gonna miss this trio,” you start, staring at the ceiling to compose yourself. A memory begins to form as you focus on holding back the stupid tears. “Do you guys remember when we were in Italy and Danny lost his wallet in that restaurant, so the three of us went back at 2am to find it? And then the owners invited us to stay for a late night snack after we got it? That was the night you tripped and fell into that huge puddle Sammy, I don’t think I laughed harder in my whole life.”

“Yeah, because we were so drunk,” Sam laughs. “Those Italians and their late night snacks, you gotta be careful with ‘em.”

Danny chuckles and shakes his head.

“Top three nights ever, that one.”

“Yeah. Anytime it’s the three of us, I know something crazy’s gonna happen,” you say. And it’s true. You, Sam, and Danny had this special ability to come up with the worst, most irrational ideas which usually led to someone falling, something getting ruined, and headaches in the morning. Oftentimes, it was just their ideas while you ended up encouraging them terribly. God, the two of them made you laugh.

“I’m heading back home today, I just have to start packing. But I’m not gone gone until Tuesday morning. So please, no tears yet, I’m simply here for a temporary goodbye hug,” you insist. The three of you meet in a group hug at the center of the room. You feel a small sob start to form as you get smushed perfectly between them.

“Hey hey hey,” Sam says, pulling away and putting one hand directly on the top of your head to look you in the eyes, “You said no tears. And personally, I’m trying my best to follow that rule right now and you’re making it very difficult.”

You and Danny laugh, distracting you from the reality that lies ahead.

“I feel like I’m leaving my people.”

“Yeah, but you’re not losing them,” Danny reassures.

“Alright, well,” you sigh, putting your hands on your hips, “I gotta get on the road.”

“We’ll walk you downstairs,” Danny says, opening the door.

The three of you make your way back down into the kitchen to find Josh whispering on the phone, pacing the room. He says a quick goodbye and hangs up when he sees you, setting the phone on the counter. You grab your purse off the back of the chair you were sitting in earlier and sling it over a shoulder.

“All set? Made them cry and everything?” Josh asks, eyebrows raised.

“No tears, that was the rule,” Sammy replies. You turn to smile at him.

“K then, bring it in one more time for me,” Josh says, arms wide open. You walk over to wrap your arms tightly around his waist, and feel Sammy and Danny join in. It’s perfectly quiet for a moment, the four of you taking in every second. Your heart’s pounding before you whisper:

“Where’s Jake?”

In scarily perfect timing, you lift your chin to look over Josh’s shoulder, and see Jake slowly making his way into the kitchen from the living room, hands in his pockets.

“Here.”

The boys let you go and the profound silence looms for a moment before Josh interjects quickly.

“Jake, why don’t you take her to her car.”

He nods, and makes his way past the four of you towards the foyer. You can hear him open the front door.

“Bye guys. I love you more than you’ll ever understand.”

“Bye, we love you, we’ll see you in a few days,” Sammy replies, squeezing your hand. Josh gives you a wink. Danny simply smiles. You take a deep breath and turn to head out of the kitchen.

Jake waits by the open door. You keep your head down and brush past him, stepping down the porch steps to your car. It’s taking everything and more to keep yourself together. You reach for the car door handle.

“Wait, wait,” Jake calls, rushing down the steps to open it for you.

“Thank you,” you smile, pausing a moment before getting in to stare at the house.

“You’ll be back,” Jake assures, understanding every thought that seems to be racing through your head at that exact moment.

“It’s just going to be a long time. Too long,” you choke, eyes teary. “This place is-”

“Ours. It’s our place, and it’s not going anywhere. Time flies by when you’re having fun. You’ll be sitting right there back at that kitchen table before you know it,” he says, pointing to the window that overlooks the front yard. You plop down into the driver’s seat and look up at him, gathering your thoughts.

“Jake, there’s a lot…,” you start, taking a breath in, “there’s a lot I should say to you. That I need to say. And I never did, but I should’ve. And I regret that. But I promise you, before I leave, I’ll say it all in the best way I know how.”

“Same goes for me too,” he says, shaking his head. “But mine’s worse because I’ll bet you any money that I’ve felt this way years before you ever did. And I wasted those years. Wasted them.”

Your heart sinks.

“We’ll make up for it,” you whisper, grabbing his hands and pressing them to your lips. “We will so make up for it.”

He nods, but a tear rolls down one cheek, and suddenly it all makes sense now. He blames himself. Because the clock has run out, the time is up, and he never said the things he should’ve a long, long time ago. But neither did you.

“Hey, hey look at me,” you say, resting one hand on his cheek. He meets your eyes, and you pause moment before pulling his face to yours and kissing him. It’s gentle at first, but then he presses more firmly into you, sliding one hand onto the side of your neck. The two of you linger in the precious, desperate moment, holding it until you have to separate to breathe.

“That was number five,” you smile, placing both hands on the steering wheel.

“Let’s try to get to at least ten before you get on the plane,” he teases, leaning against the car door.

“I believe in us,” you say, as he shuts the door and plants one more quick kiss on your window. He steps away to watch as you put the car in reverse and roll backwards out of the driveway. You do everything you can to keep your eyes on him, and let the tears flow heavily once you reach the end of the driveway. He’s waving now, and you honk the horn twice before hitting the gas, your blurry eyes on the dirt road ahead. It was never going to be easy.

[deadmanshandthecursed]

Grandma died in April. Her funeral was insulting. Trite poems read by people that didn't even know her. Then a stranger handed me that godawful 'Do not stand at my grave and cry" poem. I read it, sure, and with better inflection and soul than the paid-by-the-hour preacher read his psalm. But then they tried to close up shop and I stood up and told them to hold. They weren't going to cookie cutter funeral my grandmother if I had anything to say about it. Now it was their turn to listen.

"One of the last things grandma talked to me about was when I started storm chasing. In the days after she and mom feuded and before the dementia took hold, she and I saw a lot of each other. I stopped over twice a week on average and we'd talk for hours.

I wrote this a year or so before grandma asked me if I was ever afraid when I was chasing storms. It seems very fitting that I read it again today:

When you die, the energy in your body escapes as heat loss. Now, unless you're dying somewhere like space, that heat will dissipate and become part of our atmosphere. Our atmosphere is very good at taking heat and doing interesting things with it, like condensing into storms. Some of the heat will cause rain to fall. Some of the heat will turn to static electrical energy and split the sky as lightning. As hot air rises and colder (less heated, technically) air rushes in to take its place, the resultant wind will push the storm along. Sometimes that convective action produces what we know as tornados.

The Union soldier Sullivan Ballou once mused about his death in a letter to his wife Sarah, "if there be a soft breeze upon your cheek, it shall be my breath; or the cool air fans your throbbing temple, it shall be my spirit passing by. Sarah, do not mourn me dead; think I am gone and wait for me, for we shall meet again." He died a few days after writing the letter at the first Battle of Bull Run.

Sullivan Ballou was right. All the tales of a fanciful afterlife are right -- from a certain point of view (thanks Obi-Wan). Consciousness is the product of a brain, and dies when the brain dies. But the energy powering it persists. As I described earlier, something in us is truly, inarguably, deathless.

Our energy literally comes from the stars and one day will return to the cosmos. Until then, we will occasionally light up the night as bolts of lightning. We will interact with our descendants long after even the memories of our life are lost to time.

"What do you do when you catch it? Isn't that scary?"

I greet each thunderhead as an old friend. I listen for the whispers of the dead upon the wind. I'm comforted in the night by the guiding flashes of what passes for heaven. And sometimes, if I'm very lucky, I see the unbridled fury of my ancestors.

One day, I will be that lightning, that rain, that terrible cloud that connects heaven and Earth by way of beautiful destruction.

So I am never afraid.

Grandma and I spoke of death often - death never frightened her. Luxury of faith, I suppose. She said she never wanted a funeral. All she ever wanted, in her own words, were just 'lay me next to Jack and my dad and carry on.'

So now I do that. I miss you."

And then I took a rose from the casket and walked to my car.

In the months since Grandma left, I've spotted one tornado in person, and have called almost a dozen warnings from radar. "Still at it," she'd say. Storms have even more meaning now. Right now, I'm on a ridge above Middletown, watching a storm pass to the south. Nothing major, but beautiful all the same.

I'm trying to carry on.

[kaiba-cave]

I need to start saving up money to buy a house or something lmao my rental situation is stressing me tf out. Not that I have any money to spare to save, and I probably wouldn’t be able to get a mortgage even if I had enough saved for a down payment, pfft. Like I swear I didn’t have as many grey hairs before the basement flooded and all this shit happened as I do now.

If the basement had never flooded I’d still be perfectly happy down there but it’s now two months later and they’ve only just removed the damaged walls. Landlord’s wife is coming back April 26th and it definitely won’t be done by then, so I have to either find somewhere that’s short term or go to my mom’s house for who knows how long. And anyone who’s followed me for years knows how little I get along with my dad when we live together, so I’m dreading that. I’d almost rather stay in a hotel if they weren’t too expensive, except I have my cat and finding a pet friendly place is hard enough.

I was supposed to move into the main floor apartment but that lady decided she doesn’t want to leave. I don’t know if the landlord has a legitimate reason to evict her either because I know they don’t get along, but if you don’t have a legit reason you can’t just kick her out. 🤷‍♀️

Also this might be dumb but out of everything the thing I feel the worst about is that my cat loves it up here. I feel like super guilty that I’ve let her get used to a nice apartment with windows she can look out of, only to bring her back down to the basement eventually anyway. Is that stupid? lmao like I know she’s a cat and she’ll probably forget about it in a week once we’re back in the basement, but still. I’d gladly pay another $300 for an above ground apartment with windows just for her. Plus I’m just paranoid about it flooding again.

AND on top of everything the landlord mentioned how the basement apartment would be a bit more for rent once it was done and I didn’t say anything at that point because I thought I’d be going to the main floor so it wouldn’t matter, but as far as I’m aware a landlord can’t raise rent when they do renovations when the renovations were done because of damage. It’s not like I voluntarily moved out and am now going back, I was forced out and once the renovations are done I should have the exact same rent as before. So now I’m like ugh I’m going to have to confront them about that eventually. They’ve been good this whole time and I’m easygoing so we’ve gotten along really well and they won’t expect me to be like mmmm no, but I’m not paying more for rent when I shouldn’t have to. Unless they only raise it like $50 or something I might just let it be, but more than that, no.

I’m going to ask the insurance estimator who’s been kind of helping me out about that again just so I know for sure they can’t do that, because he knows what he’s talking about.

I’m just stressing tf out lmao I’ve actually gone and looked at two apartments. One was affordable but tiny (like probably the size as what I have in the basement, just with an extra wall so there’s technically a bedroom), and another today that was just meh, kind of old and bleh.

And since I live in the Niagara Region of Ontario it’s RARE to find anything less than $1200, and then half the time you also have to pay utilities, and unlike here internet wouldn’t be included either, which also isn’t cheap. And I’ve looked like cities away from where I am but there’s just nowhere cheap.

Too bad I can’t move across the border into Buffalo or Niagara Falls, NY, lmao. Some of those places are cheap af even for American dollars and I’m literally right across the river and paying like double what they are. Sigh.

And smaller issue but still something I think about, my couch (which was also my bed) got ruined and since I didn’t get any money from my insurance I can’t replace it. My Pa helped me buy it and I feel bad that it got wrecked after only having it for like two years. It was expensive too. So no matter where I end up I still need a bed or another sleeper couch.

AAAAAAHHHHHHHH

[verishere]

Chapter 5

Previous Next (not out yet, will edit)

Luonim and Fealron stood on the palace balcony, watching their kids play in the courtyard.

They technically did not need to be here. Axel was down there with Liam and Meron, and Axel was certainly old enough to watch both of them. But they could watch their babies, couldn't they?

Meron was Fealron's child, a Lumen unlike his mother, and he'd become fast friends with Liam over the last couple of months. Right now they were quite literally wrestling in the mud, which Axel supposedly should have been stopping.

Instead, Axel was sitting at the base of the nearby tree, keeping score. She didn't know how a scoring system would work for wrestling, but based on Alex's movements it appeared quite logical.

Fealron was shaking her head theatrically, mouth taught but with upturned eyes. "He is going to be a nightmare to get clean."

"At least you don't have a full palace for him to run through with muddy feet. Last time mine played out here it took hours to clean."

Fealron genuinely grimaced at that, before asking "Why isn't Axel stopping it then?"

"They think it's worth it to clean up if he gets to have fun. And I'm not stopping it, because Axel will be cleaning it up. Alone."

They both chuckled at the image. Axel did a lot of chores like that, but at least they were fully aware before whatever they did that they'd be doing it. They usually started even before they were told to.

The wrestling match seemed to be over, so now they were climbing a tree.

"Not today!" Axel's shout could be heard from the balcony, as could Liam and Meron's pouts.

They were both standing next to each other, looking up at Axel with soulful eyes. It looked like Axel almost cracked, a slow grin they were trying not to show.

"I know you want to, but you should have before every part of you was slick in mud. You'll fall, if you even get up high enough to at all."

Liam and Meron looked at each other, once.

Luonim and Fealron looked at each other as well, understanding flickering between them. They knew what was about to happen, but this Alex's job now...

Axel was still cross armed staring at them, seemingly unaware.

Meron, furthest from the tree, ran off behind Axel, which gave Liam room to dash for the tree while Axel's back was turned.

Meron ran a large circle around the bushes on the other side of Axel from the tree, before running back around to the tree itself. Liam was already a full foot above Axel's head by the time they noticed.

Axel didn't scream or shout anything, though their mouth moved, and Luonim suddenly realized where Liam had heard that word he'd about the clippers being too high a few months ago.

Axel darted forward and tried to pull Liam down, but their fingers actually slipped through the mud on his legs, while they were entirely missing Meron climbing one of the other trees.

"Get down! If you fall and get hurt I can't heal you!" Axel was shouting this while jumping up and trying to reach his waist, but it was very clearly too late. Liam wouldn't be coming down from there till he got bored or fell.

Or, if they intervened. This wasn't as dangerous as Axel was making it out to be, since both Luonim and Fealron were there. They had powerful enough healing abilities, as the most they could sustain from a fall would be a broken leg or arm.

Still, better to not have to deal with that, so they spread their wings and jumped the rails. They both flew to their own first, so Luonim was in the tree just next to Liam within a few seconds, while Fealron flew onward.

"You know, mud doesn't belong in trees, Liam." She said this while grabbing onto his shoulders to keep him from going higher.

Unfortunately, he was so startled by her sudden appearance he lost his grip on the tree, and the mud slipped through her fingers just as it had Axel's Liam fell to the ground from around 8 feet, and by the time Luonim had dropped down he was screaming.

Luonim swore, something she almost never did, and dived to the ground next to him.

Axel was already kneeling there, whispering to him and trying to call on the very little amount of healing abilities she had.

The problem with healing magic was that it was really spiritual magic, so the less people you knew or would know, the less it would work. You then also had to pray to their Laynu's properly, which Axel hasn't been instructed well enough on. They would need to fix that.

Liam had blood from his right leg, not a large wound but enough it wouldn't heal on its own. It had been cut on the stone it'd probably fallen directly onto. She was also fairly certain the bone was broken, as Liam was kicking with his other foot but not this one, which was utterly limp below the hip.

Gratefully, one does not need quiet to pray in spiritual magic- one only needs to be able to say the words, or at least think the words if speaking is unavailable. With Liam's screaming, if audibility was a factor this would have been impossible without knocking him out.

Who to pray to first? The Thrinu would be the most powerful Laynu's, but after meeting their Limbos they were significantly less powerful, and she hadn't invoked Freya's name since she had left Blonicku. She had no idea if Freya had entered her Limbo yet.

She risked it.

"Freya Thrinu, hear me, who you once knew."

She felt power in the air, like magic as it flows from the soul.

"Hear me, your friend, and family of your friends."

The power grew, like a light around herself, shining as she spoke.

"Hear me and help me, for my grandson who you do not know has fallen."

...Liam's screaming ebbed.

That should not have been enough to move Freya's Laynu to help. It should have taken more prayer than that. It would have for anyone else she'd known, even people who knew Freya.

These are thoughts for later, though. She still has a hurt grandson.

"I do not know how hurt he is, only that his leg is blooded, and maybe broke."

She could now visibly see the leg's skin growing back.

She had not seen anyone heal that quickly since Vlorindul had been healing Nrolin, on the journey.

"I ask you, as your friend, heal Liam Lililnu Lyradonnu, of all that I know and whatever hurts besides."

As she spoke, she saw Liam's foot twitching. Vaguely she was aware that he was still crying, but seemingly more out of memory of the pain than active injury. He was completely still, except his face; even his other leg had stilled from where it was writhing.

"Heal my grandson, Freya. I trust you."

The The skin closed up around the wound, and he was moving it around more.

She stopped praying. Freya's Laynu had healed him seemingly entirely.

Coming out of the magic fugue she'd built around herself, she saw Axel was wiping Liam's tears and trying to comfort him. He was only sniffling, by that point, and from his soul she felt only fear- no pain.

Fealron rushed into the room, Vlorindul and Nyra in tow. She'd probably gone to get more healers, since she was herself lousy at it.

Fealron blinked, Vlorindul looked confused, and Nyra rushed to Liam to help Axel calm him down.

Fealron told me it was a larger wound. Vlorindul sent her.

She stood up and dusted off her dress, before replying to all three of them, It was. His leg was broken.

Vlorindul's ear flicked, and walked over to Liam. You could not have healed a broken leg in the time it took for Fealron to reach me.

She was staring down at Liam as well, pure confusion across her face. Apparently, Freya and Liam are going to get along well.

Liam started to stand up, and their conversation was lost as they decided where he should go first- a bath for the mud, or to sleep for the healing. In the end, they decided on the bath, since he was walking around on his own and didn't act tired; only scared.

Later, once the dust had settled, Fealron and Meron had gone home, and Liam went to sleep after his bath, the whole family was gathered to listen- save Nrolin, who was held up in council.

"I have no idea what happened. His entire leg wasn't moving but his other one was kicking, so I am almost sure it was broken, but it healed so quickly. All I did was ask Freya to help, it only took three sentences after I invoked her name, and he was completely fine."

It looked like everyone was trying to do calculations in their head, comparing between the various times they'd seen healing magic used.

Axel, eventually, spoke, "That's. That's not possible, I thought?"

Larsun looked thoughtful, and answered Axel. "It shouldn't be, except that Laynu's are singular across time, at least for as long as the sun remains. You could pray to a Laynu of someone you haven't met before, which would normally result in almost nothing, but if you know them in the future their Laynu will hear and answer."

The shock that echoed around the room from this implication was almost literally suffocating, emanating from so many temporarily unguarded souls.

Vlorindul looked over at her and said "But if he was healed so quickly as Luonim describes, then Liam will one day be more important to Freya than literally any of us."

Larsun nodded, and went for drinks. They'd all need one, after that.