#things I've said to Mr. Blake

[howlingday]

nother crack idea for jaune's exes: artoria pendragon has come to beacon to bring back her love to the safety of their little village! she knows jaune's dream is to be a hero but between his father giving him no training and him not getting into a combat school she worries about him, the only solution is to bring him back home for her to train in safety until he's ready! NO THIS HAS NOTHING TO DO WITH HER WANTING TO EAT HIS COOKING! SHE'S DOING THIS FOR NOBLE REASONS!

"I SEEK THE HAND OF JAUNE ARC!"

The classroom had gone hush with the sudden announcement of the young, blonde woman in armor. The target of this stranger had a mixture of reactions, including the reddening of his cheeks and the swiftness of his hand to his face. The woman made her way down the steps to where Jaune was sitting.

"Jaune, I command you to return home at once!"

"Please, no..." Jaune groaned.

"Excuse me, young lady, but I'm afraid you'll have to wait until class is over to-"

"BE SEATED!" Professor Port responded to this decree by immediately sitting at his desk. "It is rude to interrupt the royal business of a king."

"Aren't you a girl, though?" Cardin asked, brow raised at the intruder.

"BE STILL!" A roar proclamation erupted, forcing Cardin to fall backwards, mouth held shut. "Jaune, I command-"

"I refuse." Jaune said, knocking the woman off-guard. "Also, I'm attending Beacon."

"Jaune, who is this?" Pyrrha asked, confused by the casual way Jaune spoke to the stranger after watching her emasculate both Professor Port and Cardin Winchester. As annoying as it was, both were two of the most masculine people in the room, yet the woman shut them both down, only thrown off her high horse by the response of her team leader. "Do you know her?"

"Yeah." Jaune nodded. "She's my ex." Gasps resounded throughout the classroom. "Why is everyone so surprised?"

"Because it's you?" Weiss answered.

"Because she's so scary!" Ruby replied, putting up her hands in and waving them in defense when the woman glared at her. "Uh, not scary in a bad way!"

"What other way is scary supposed to be taken?" Blake asked.

"Er, when- when you say ex, do you mean ex-friend, or ex-lab partner, or ex-"

"Girlfriend." The woman answered. "And I refuse your claim."

"You said you were fine when we broke up." Jaune clarified. "You even said that you were thinking about travelling around a bit, too."

"Yes, and I did travel around as we discussed." She held an armored hand to her heart. "I've seen many things on my journey, but all of them paled when compared to you." This brought about a coo from the classroom, taken in by the romantic statement. It seemed she genuinely cared about him.

"You got hungry for my cooking again, didn't you?" The classroom nearly fell on their face.

"N-No! Of course not!"

"Then why did you suddenly decide to come find me here at Beacon?" Jaune held up a finger. "A good king doesn't lie to their people."

"Ghk!" The woman flinched. "I... You are correct. I did feel hungry for your cooking again."

"Uh-huh, I thought so."

"But regardless of my reasoning, I still intend to complete my mission!"

"If you're hungry, then just wait until class is over. It's almost lunchtime."

"No, that's not why I'm here." She dropped to one knee. "Jaune Arc, will you do me the honor of becoming Mr. Artoria Pendragon?"

"ABSOLUTELY NOT!" The class was in shock. Partially from the proposal by Artoria, but also from the refusal of this act by not Jaune Arc, but his partner, Pyrrha Nikos. All eyes fell on her and felt the urge to shrink back from them, but when her green eyes fell to those of the woman holding Jaune's hand, such urges dispersed. "Jaune Arc is a student of Beacon Academy and the leader of Team JNPR. I refuse to allow you to strip him of him of both titles and responsibilities just so you can eat."

"And who are you to challenge the King of Knights?" Artoria asked, standing tall against her foe.

"My name is Pyrrha Nikos, the partner of Jaune Arc." Though the word held different meanings, in this instance Pyrrha's words held them in their most simplest form. Even if Pyrrha wished they meant something deeper. "And I refuse to allow you to take him away from me."

[juanarc-thethird]

Don't fuck him.

Kali: Honey, I made this cake for the neighbors as a thank you for watering our garden when we were on vacation. Can you give them to them, please?

Blake: Ok *About to take the cake*

Kali: *Moves it back* Just one thing, don't fuck their son.

Blake: *Blushing* What?!

Kali: I've seen how you look at that Arc boy. I'm a little afraid that you're going to do something to him.

Blake: *Red* I won't do anything to him! Let alone do "that" to him!

Kali: I don't believe it. You are my daughter, and I know that if you are alone with that boy, his innocence will be gone.

Blake: Mom!

Kali: Don't "mom" me. Do you think your dad was the one who convinced me to go out with him? Of course not, I did. And you, being my daughter, know very well that if you have the opportunity, you will eat that young man. I mean, I would like some grandchildren one day, but right now it's too early for that.

Blake: MOM!

Kali: Anyway, if he is alone in the house. Don't even think about going in, do you understand?

Blake: But-!

Kali: Do YOU understand?

Blake: *Sighs* Yes mom.

Kali: Good, now go and deliver the cake.

Blake takes the cake and heads over to the neighbors' house. When she arrives, she rings the bell but no one answers. She rings it again and still nothing.

Blake: It seems that no one is home.

Jaune: *Happy* Blake!

Blake: Huh?

Blake turns to her left and she sees Jaune pushing the lawn mower into the driveway. Apparently Jaune is mowing the back garden and apparently he was getting a little hot. The young man had taken off his shirt and put it over his head to stop the sweat. Blake could see his chest of the exposed. Her gaze is glued to his muscles, she watches in detail as the sweat moves through his pectorals all the way to his abs. Unaware, Jaune had approached her and was calling her name.

Jaune: B... Bla... Blake? Hello?

Blake: *Blushing* I'm sorry! I zoned out for a second there.

Jaune: I understand, it happens to me all the time. But leaving that aside. You need something?

Blake: Well, my mom made this cake as a thank you for taking care of our garden.

Jaune: Oh wow! Thanks a lot! *He was going to take the cake but stops* Oh, I'm a little sweaty, I don't think it's a good idea to take it in this state. Why don't you go inside and leave the cake in the kitchen? And I can show you the bonsai that I am taking care of.

Blake: Well... (Kali: Don't even think about going in!) I'm sorry but I can't stay for long.

Jaune: It won't take long. Just let me put the mower away and I'll open the door for you. *Goes to the mower*

Blake: Seriously Jaune, I can't...

At that moment Jaune pushes the heavy mower. Blake watches his muscles flex and his butt move with each step. Seeing that, everything that her mother had said to her went overboard.

Blake: *Sweating* I think I can stay a few minutes.

A couple of hours later.

Jaune and Blake are lying on the bed, snuggled up naked.

*Ring Ring*

Blake: Huh? *Checks her phone* OH SHIT!

Jaune: What happened?

Blake: It's my mom! Shit Shit Shit!

Jaune: Is that a bad thing?

Blake: Kind of!! Just help me get dressed!

Jaune: Ok.

As Jaune helps Blake get dressed she answers the phone.

Blake: Hello… Oh no, I'm not at Jaune's house. I'm at, I'm at Yang's house!… *Puts pants on* Yes! I'm at Yang's house. I met her on the way to Jaune's house…. *Shirt on* What was she doing here? She only came to leave some things that Jaune lent her… *Shoes on* It's the truth! I'm with her right now. What do you want to talk to her?… *Walks to the front of the house* Well, she's in the bathroom right now… *Open the door to leave* Yes, I'll let you know when I'm back *Stops* home.

Kali: *In front of her* Did you have fun?

Blake: It's not what you think!

Jaune: Blake, you forgot your panties. Oh!.... *Embarrassed* Hi Mrs. Belladonna.

Kali: Hi Jaune. Blake, to the house, Now. *Leaves*

Blake: *Sighs* Yes mom. *Follows her*

Jaune: *Quietly* Blake wait.

Blake: Hm?

Jaune: *Kiss her* I text you later.

Blake: *Smiles* Sure *Leaves*

[that-one-random-writer]

That's My Kind Of Night Chapter: 1 |Complete|

Jake "Hangman" Seresin x (Southern!F)Reader word count: 1,932

Summary: Jake takes leave and goes back to Texas. His friend is now married with a woman. This woman's friend gets under his skin and he loves it.

Warnings: cussin', flirtin', heavy banter, angst, mentions of a lot of southern recreations in this series, Sexual tension. Mature

Southern Chronicles Masterlist

Jake throws a bag in the back of his truck. He hopped in the driver's side. It roars to life, sending vibrations all through the cab. He pulls out of the driveway and sends a text to let the boys know he's heading out.

Hangman is on leave for a month. There is a party with some of his life-long friends and their new women. Jake had stopped to grab a couple of cases of beer. It was going to be a night like his younger years.

The group is meeting at the lake. Four wheelers will be muddy, Beers will be passed around, swimming in the lake, the ladies might even start mud wrestling in the pit, and of course, ending the night with a bonfire.

Jake parked the truck next to a few of his buddies out in the pasture. He hopped out and grabbed his things. "Jake!" Blake yelled out. They grabbed hands and pulled each other in, then out for a quick hug. The two friends hadn't seen each other in quite some time.

"Man, it has been a minute. How have you been?" Jake happily greeted Blake. He had joined the Army, while Jake had opted for the Navy. They looked polar opposite. Blake's black hair contrasting to the lighter shade of Jakes. The brown eyes are much different to Jake's seafoam green.

"I've been great, man. Missions have been a little out there, but nothing I can't handle." Blake had an ego, but not near as mighty as Jake's.

"I know the feeling, man. I've saved a couple of lives myself." He chuckled deeply and puffed up ever so slightly. "I'm one of the few that have had confirmed air to air kills. I was the only one, but a few of my coworkers had a stroke of luck." His face beaming with pride.

"Good on you, man!" Blake exclaimed. Clapping his shoulder. "Hey, come on. Come meet my old lady. She is hell on wheels. Her friend ain't much better. They are firecrackers."

Jake nodded. "Show me the way home, Blake." Blake's chuckle bellowed. The roots showed in the women in Fightertown.

They just weren't quite like the southern belles of Texas. It was quite noticeable when the pair came into view of the tracks. Two women stood tossing handfuls of mud at one another. He could tell they were playfully bickering.

They were both covered in dirt, wet, and dried. Their pants were tight on top and boot cut loose to fit their boots on the bottom. Their tank tops matched with one wearing pink and the other wearing purple. He could barely tell a difference with all the mud. The pair of women were definitely about to start wrestling. They both laughed as one tackled the other. "You'd better not." The girl that pounced said. The one on the ground that had been tackled looked up and noticed the men at the other side of the track about 30 feet.

" Ooo Honeybee, look at what we have here." She was shouting to you, the pouncer, with the nickname you had been graced with years ago. "You must be Jake. I'm Vanny, The new Mrs." She held out her hand.

Jake took it softly in his and winked at her. "Very nice to meet you, Vanny." Vanny blushed. "Blake, honey, you are right about him being a charmer." She smiled back at her husband.

Vanny then introduced you by name, "but everybody calls me Honeybee." You cut her off before she could add anything too embarrassing and smiled politely at the handsome stranger. You held out your hand as well and had a tight grip while you shook his hand.

Jake kept his poker face but was surprised at the firm grip. Expecting the delicacy Vanny had shown.

"She stings a little." Vanny made reference to your nickname. "You'll get adjusted to it Jake. From what I hear, you're a bit of a biter too." Vanny spoke up again. She giggled as Jake looked up at Blake with an eyebrow arched. Blake had told her he had a bit of a mouth on him, even Jake himself couldn't disagree. "Ooo Blake baby, look at the time, drive me up to the dock. We've a party to get ready for. Honey bee, why don't you let Jake drive you up to the house to grab the stuff."

You giggled brightly. "That's funny, Van." You had started making your way back to the four-wheeler following the pair.

"Im driving!" He calmy made his way to the four-wheeler. He started strapping his bag and beers down. You looked that man up and down. Appreciating how this man looked. His body was sculpted. His biceps are far too big for that tiny shirt. It was enough to make you crumble. "No, you're not." You called back to him, wrapping your legs around the seat. He raised an eyebrow. Looking up from the straps. "I'll tell you what doll face. You get to ride in the front." He hopped on behind you. You could feel his body press against yours, your ass pressed so close to him. His minty breath was so cool against your ear that it sent a shiver down your spine.

"You just better hold on, Darlin."" He whispered softly. This man was gonna get you in trouble.

He had grown up around Blake's family lake house. He knew the trails like the back of his hand. He drifted down the side of the path, cutting off Blake.

You held up a bird passing Vanny. Your irritation materialized. She's giving this man ideas. Vanny wiggled her fingers to wave you off. She knew what she was doing. The couple already decided that they wanted to play Cupid in your life. You had been mad at first. You're starting to rethink your emotions, seeing him up close and feeling him so close to you. You're hard-headed, so you'll still give her hell about it later. "So you know where you're going?" You yelled over the engine.

"I've been here as long as I can remember." He yelled back over the loud vibrations.

"Good, can you take me down by the campsite. I left some things down there." He took a turn down a trail, and you knew he heard you.

The four-wheeler stopped once the tents were in front of you. "You had a whole lake house, and yall camped last night?" He leaned back to make room for you to hop off.

"Yeah, a bed isn't the same as a hammock. Im out here any chance I get." You walked to your hammock and grabbed your gun, slipping it in the holster on your belt. You put your ball cap back on your head. It was distressed and had the words Mama tried on the front in bold letters.

"Don't worry, I took a shower this morning." You called back with a laugh, grabbing a couple of other blankets, lighter fluid, and matches.

"It sure don't look like it." He chuckled, looking at your mud covered curves. He had to admit, those jeans definitely complimented you well. Especially when you bent down. The mud was accentuating all the rounded edges.

"And you look like you just hopped out of a Barbie doll box, Ken." You put everything on the back of the four-wheeler strapping it down. Then leaned against it. "Blake made it seem like you're more G.I. Joe, the way he talked about you." You got back on in front of him. You made a dramatic sad face. "Bless your heart, Malibu Barbie must have had her way with you..." Your voice got much softer into a whisper. "One too many makeup testers at the beauty shop." You giggled softly at the banter.

Jake smirked and looked up at you. "Honey, G.I. Joe is scared of me."

You matched his smirk. "Prove it..."

He turned his attention the trail and then pressed the gas, knocking you back into his chest. He made sure to hit the mud puddles a little harder, causing mud to splatter all over the pair. "How's that for a Ken doll?" He called over the engine.

He drifted and parked right in front of the house. You both made your way to the door. He opened the door and held it open for you. "You look better." You patted his chest and complemented the mud on his clothes, walking through the door. Your eyes lifted with your smile.

You walked into the kitchen and leaned against the kitchen counter. Cool air blasted from the A/C. Confidence seeping out of Jake's aura, he followed behind you. "Tell me about yourself, Y/N." He glanced around the house. It was just like he remembered. He walked to the kitchen and grabbed a beer in the fridge. You took it in your hand as he offered it to you. He grabbed one for himself. You popped the top.

"Well, I'm 27, and I own a hair salon in town." You started. Then, you paused to take a sip. "What about you? Tell me about the life of a handsome ken doll."

Jake smirks and leans against the door frame. His elbow is against the frame, placing his hand behind the nape of his neck. His biceps filling up the tight sleeve of his tee shirt. You didn't hide that you were checking him out as your eyes dragged to where his shirt lifted. "I'm a naval aviator. I've had two air strike kills in the past six months." His chest puffed. "We've been on some pretty crazy missions here lately. A lot of classified information. I'm thinking about taking an instructor position I've been offered. The school is up in California."

You were impressed but held the poker face. You giggled to yourself when he stopped at California.

"I knew I smelt malibu Barbie on you..." you muttered giggling, you then spoke back up continuing,"Naval aviator, That sounds like a dangerous career. My momma would smack me if I didn't thank you for your service." He nodded his head, acknowledging the appreciation. "I guess I stand corrected. G.I. Joe might just be shaking in his boot. When you're back in California, make sure to say 'hello' to your girlfriend Barbie in the dreamhouse for me."

He stiffled a laugh from exiting his plump lips. "I'm still waiting for a Barbie to complete my collection. I do have the dream house, though. I just bought it about a month ago. If you ever want to take a vacation in San Diego, let me know. You can come play Barbie with me. You have a G.I. Joe, that might be scared of me? "

You bit your lip, looking him up and down. You placed both hands on the counter, leaning forward comfortably. Your chest is displayed with a glow from the sweat and mud. "I'm not a Barbie Doll type, and G.I. joes dont quite do it for me. I need something a little more intimidating, " You whispered softly.

The teasing was very tempting. His eyes shifted down to where cotton didn't cover. The glow was so inviting. His smirk raised back to his face when he met your eyes again. He was lost for word. Your teasing had got him. You had won in his mind, and that both infuriated him and intrigued him. Especially when that just confirmed your relationship status to be single. The only words he could muster came out in a low growl. "I think I know a guy."

CHAPTER 2

Tumblr ate my post. 😒 Trying this again...

No permissions to share the story as your own. Do not repost to any site. Don't steal from aspiring authors that makes you a 'C U Next Tuesday'!

[happinessismusic]

"Blake Shelton kicked off RodeoHouston with a Tuesday night triple play: God, Gwen Stefani and country music. 

Yes, Mrs. Shelton made a surprise appearance during her husband's sixth RodeoHouston show. Five songs into the hourlong set, she pulled up to the stage in one of the Rodeo's signature black SUVs. The screams started before she stepped onstage.

Stefani, dressed in flowing purple and gold fringe, joined Shelton for "Nobody But You", a No. 1 country duet; and the superior "Purple Irises", a pop-rock single released this month. She made her solo RodeoHouston debut in 2022.

"By the way Houston, you're welcome," Shelton said between songs to the crowd of 59,461.

Shelton is in many way the ideal Rodeo performer, a precise balance of traditional and trendy. His hits are sturdy, and his voice is sturdier. He's charismatic but not overly showy. This was his first time on the rotating stage in six years.

"Every time I get to do this I think, 'Well this is probably gonna be it'. There's a whole crop of awesome new talent," Shelton said. "I've learned to truly appreciate these things."

He kicked off with "God's Country" and stuck to the hits, most of them No. 1: "A Guy With a Girl," "Neon Light," "Sangría, "God Gave Me You." The catchiest of them all remains "Honey Bee." Try to get the singsong chorus out of your head after one listen.

The show's most striking moment came when Shelton sang "Austin," his debut single that was released 23 years ago. He's evolved into a much different performer than the guy with the cowboy hat and curly mullet who first sang it. But it remains a standout in his catalog.

"Look at this place, man. Oh my God. What kind of people come out here in Houston, Texas to a stadium to watch a rodeo and then a damn country music concert on a Tuesday night?" Shelton said.

RodeoHouston people, that's who."

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

That is an awesome review!

[goldenamaranthe-blog]

Yang proposing to Blake by tying the ring around tiger yang so blake can find while petting her, trouble is she needs to get permission from tiger yang first because she won't let her put the ring around her neck

........THAT IS ABSOLUTE GENIUS

*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*

Yang: (staring at T!Y)

Tiger!Yang: (staring at Yang)

Yang: Alright... I've gotten Ghira's blessing, and I survived whatever that weird Menagerie tradition quest Kali put me through. You're the last thing-

Tiger!Yang: (growl)

Yang: -person! Last person I need the okay from because I need you to help me out. (pulls a small golden ring out of the breast pocket of her uniform) So, what do you say? Do I have your approval to ask Blake to marry me?.... I cannot believe I'm asking a tiger this....

Tiger!Yang: (sniffs the ring and grumbles)

Yang: Is that a yes or no?

Tiger!Yang: (rolls onto her side and stretches)

Yang: .....I'll take that as a yes? (pulls a small leather cord out of her pocket and ties off the ring) Now, just hold still for a minute.

Tiger!Yang: (waits until Yang is positioned just right over her, leaps up and tears off through the enclosure with Yang on her back)

Yang: Ahhhhhhhhh!!! Down, Murder Mittens! Down!

Tiger!Yang: (skids to a stop next to the pond, tossing Yang into the pool of water)

Yang: (sputters and coughs as she swims back to the edge) You could have just said no.

Tiger!Yang: (growls lightly and looks off into the distance)

Yang: Hey! Believe it or not, I do care about your opinion here. Otherwise I wouldn't have even asked you!

Tiger!Yang: (groans into a belch right in Yang's face)

Yang: Sweet mother of Bovines! What the hell have you been eating?! It smells like Mrs. B's tropical curry!

Tiger!Yang: (pants in a smile)

Yang: ....Blake's been giving you her food again, huh? (pulls herself out of the water and lays on the ground with her feet still in the pool) You're not gonna accept me, are you?

Tiger!Yang: (lays down next to Yang, facing the door to the enclosure)

Yang: (pats T!Y on the flank) Fair enough. I'm not exactly good marriage material. I always thought Blake could do better.

Tiger!Yang: (pauses and bumps her nose against the ring and cord)

Yang: Really?

Tiger!Yang: (chuffs)

Yang: (ties off cord around T!Y's neck and gives ear scratches) Thanks.

Blake: (entering the enclosure) Yang? Is that you? What are you doing in the pool?

Tiger!Yang: (pads across the grade to Blake and rubs everywhere)

Blake: Hey, baby, I missed you too. (fingers drag over the cord and her eyes go wide when she sees the ring)

Yang: (scrambles to her feet and shouts across the enclosure, a crowd of people have gathered on the walkway above to watch) WILL YOU MARRY ME?!

Blake: (hops on T!Y's back and rides over to Yang, tackling her back into the pool with the tiger in tow) OF COURSE I WILL!!!

[heliosthegriffin]

Shadow Knight and Magic Girls XIV

AO3 Link

Chapter 14

-----

Jaune really wanted to close his eyes. They feel so heavy, like someone had tied anvils to his eyelids. He couldn't take a nap though, not where he could be watched. Uncle-, Big Bear would hear about it.

He had to be a representative of the Xiongs.

He looked down at his test. Jaune hadn't even wrote his name down. What class period was he even in, had he had lunch yet? No. So, it had to be before lunch...

Maybe, he should look at the questions? ... Still no clue. He got up, getting attention from across the room. "Mr. Arc?"

"Just stretching."

"Can it wait until after the test?"

"No."

The teacher gave a frail smile. "Well, I'd much appreciate it if-"

Jaune leaned back, a series of bullet-loud pops echoing across the room. Several students flinched, looking up from the test for the source of the test, others covering they're ears at the sudden noise, and a couple nodded they're head finding the sound oddly pleasing.

"Nevermind." The teacher sat down, and so did Jaune. He started to remember what class he was in. Something something science. Usually he slept through it.

He looked at the questions again. It was asking about chemical change, was he is chemistry?

It was dumbly worded though, bland enough he wish had some salt to put on it.

Still, he knew the answer to this one strangely enough, he had done a lot of experimenting in his early days of monster-fighting, so he knew a bit about chemical change.

It was asking for a example, and he wrote gunpowder, explaining how when a spark hit it, it created a chemical reaction that made a small explosion and smoke.

Jaune nodded to himself.

Reading the rest of the questions, he realize that all of them he sorta of knew the answer too, especially since they all related, to one degree or another, to his experiments.

Once figured out, Jaune handed over his test to the teacher, who took it, reading over it.

Exiting out into the hallway, Jaune made his way down the hallway to find a secluded place to close his eyes for a bit. Turning around the corner, he took a step to the side, as a faunus girl almost walked into him.

She paused mid-step to look at him, eye's going wide. "Wait-"

"Yes?" Jaune paused.

"Um..." She stuttered. "Thank you."

"For what?" Jaune couldn't remember ever-, oh. "Oh the purse. Get everything back? Nothing missing?"

"Yes!" She nodded, her rabbit ears bobbing slightly, Jaune found himself unable to look away from them. "Thanks to you." She noticed his gaze and blushed. "Sorry, I don't want to bother you."

The Xiong heir-to-be shrugged. "It's fine, I was just going to nap. Nothing major."

"Oh!" She brightened up. "Then, you wouldn't mind if I treated you to a drink? My treat?" Her rabbit ears twitched forward, the ends drooping slightly.

He couldn't look away, Jaune realized. So, just slowly nodded.

"Great!" She gave a chirp. Then looked nervously at him. "Oh! I haven't introduced myself. I'm Velvet, Velvet Scarlatina."

"Jaune, Jaune Xiong Arc."

----

"So, do you girls believe in ghosts?" Nora asked the table.

"No. That has no scientific backing." Weiss said firmly.

Her fellow comrades stared her down ruthlessly, with a expression of 'really?'.

"Well, I do." Nora said proudly. "In fact, I've met one or two, right Ren?"

"They weren't ghosts," Ren said flatly. "She found my parents in a ... intimate moment, and they ran hiding under some white sheets."

"Same thing!"

Ren sighed. "No, because my parents are very alive, this happened yesterday."

"OH." Nora hit her palm with her hand. "That's right. Sorry." She looked around the table. "By the way, Jaune. Renny's parents want to know when you're coming by, they miss you!"

There was no Jaune at the table.

"Oh." Nora drooped sadly. "My boy has grown up." Then perked back up. "We'll, I'll just have to find and tell him myself!" Then disappeared in a blur of manic energy.

"Shouldn't you mind that?" Blake asked Ren, who shrugged.

"Jaune can handle that."

Blake nodded. "Do your parents actually miss him?"

Ren smiled. "Yes."

Ruby poked Weiss in the ribs. "So, don't believe in ghosts?" Yang joined in poking her other set of ribs. "Yeah? Don't believe in ghosts?"

Weiss squirmed being poked repeatedly. "Stop that! The idea of ghosts is just so illogical to me."

Pyrrha cocked her head at Weiss. "And? You don't have an opened mind to it, with your own circumstances, it seems even more illogical not to consider it."

"Ok. Point taken. But, that doesn't mean I believe in them."

Ruby laughed. "Gosh, Weiss, if I didn't know better, I'd think you were afraid of them with how much you don't want to be real!"

Weiss looked away, saying nothing.

Yang brightened up. "Oh. This is golden."

Blake peered at Weiss. "So, ghosts?"

"My childhood home was drafty that's all. It pushed doors open, perfectly logical explanation, I'm sure. The cold spots were just because of poor construction. The moans were just echos." Weiss fired off trying to explain it, mostly to herself.

"Geez," Yang chuckled, backing off. "Alright, it's fine. Not like ghosts are going to hurt anyone."

Ruby put a arm around Weiss. "Don't worry, we'll kick any ghost butts that try to haunt you!"

Weiss sighed. "Thank you, Ruby."

Blake looked at Ren. "You didn't say what you think about Ghosts?"

"Neither did you girls."

"I think we're pretty open minded. " Blake said, with all but Weiss nodding.

"Hmm. That's good." Ren sipped his tea. "I'd just say, they're not the strangest things to exist."

------

The door opened, revealing a dark room, Velvet flipped a switch, and Jaune went bug-eyed at the sight. 'There's no way this is real.' He looked around the room, trying to make sense of what he was looking at. 'But, it's here.' He looked at Velvet with a bit of fear.

It was a room entirely of him. As the Shadow Knight, not normal him, thank his ancestors it wasn't. But, all across the room was pictures of his alter ego, boards full of text, rare-video of him being played, and what he could only know as a half-way decent reconstruction of his first costume.

Jaune fought the urge to burn the room to cinders, he looked around, wishing very strongly to have brought a lighter to school. He'd know better from this day forward. Flint and steel, too.

"Excuse the mess," Velvet said meekly, then gestured to a chair. "Take a seat, while I brew some tea." Jaune sat down, staring at he wood, desperate to not see all his pictures, this was embarrassing to a level he didn't know existed.

"Oh, I didn't realize you were that tired." He heard Velvet say, causing him to snap back up. "I don't mind if you drift off for a bit. It'll take a moment to make the tea, anyway."

He was very tempted to do so. However, he decided to not do so. Embarrassing or not, he needed to figure out what the hell this all was. So for the moment, Jaune watched Velvet move around getting the tea leaves and setting the water to boil.

Velvet then took a seat parallel from him, looking shy. "Do you like black tea?"

He wasn't a big tea drinker, but he'd try anything once, foodwise at least. "Yeah, that sounds fine."

"Great." Silence mostly filled the room, other than sound of the water slowly boiling.

"What is all this?" Jaune decided to bite the bullet, gesturing around the room at ... all of that. "It's ... through."

She blushed. "It's not that great, it's just a bit of hobby."

Then he'd hate to see what really caught her interest. He looked at the replica of his old suit on a mannequin. "Yeah, a hobby. We all need one." Jaune watched a video of him decking a someone with Ferrum Vis, his old pipe, he missed it already. The video then showed him running away from the police, that had been a couple weeks ago, wasn't it?

Velvet nodded energetically. "Yep! Well, it's more than a hobby now, but it started out as such." Her ears wobbled. "I have a hard time talking to people. Now's not much better, though. I only really have Coco."

Jaune could understand that. "Yeah, people are strange creatures." Velvet looked down. "Not that you are, just in general." Jaune backpedaled.

"Thanks. But, I know this is weird, but ... I feel so drawn to him. It's like he's more than a man. It's just big thing to solve to me, a puzzle with so many moving parts! It's makes it all the more fun to try and figure it out." Velvet's voice grew in energy as she talked. "Like why does he do it? Who is he? When did he starts? It's all so many questions without answers."

"Maybe, that's for the detectives to figure out." Jaune added neutrally.

Velvet sighed. "I asked them, but they don't care. They have more pressing matters, other than some, and I quote, 'Crack-head bum getting into pissing matches with gang-bangers,'." Velvet frowned, and Jaune fought the urge to pet her. "How rude. But, I guess that's the best I could ask for, at least they didn't turn me away like some would."

That was actually a relief to Jaune. Knowing that police didn't think much of him, which he hoped to keep that way. Though, it did beg the question how much they knew? Maybe, he should take some time to find out?

Big Bear had hardly had any information on the shadow monsters, other than what his family passed down, and what he already knew.

Jaune thought about that book he found, it had mentioned The Moon Lady summoning darkness monsters? This went back several hundred years minimum, and he hadn't managed to cross-reference the story yet, so it's impossible to tell how old it was. It could have very well been written by somebody in the know, or just some guy.

Jaune sighed.

Velvet then misinterpreted this. "I know, right? The lack of interest in the topic is staggering, we have a actual modern day hero going around fighting for us, and no one cares, or hardly knows."

Jaune would fight her on that, given how many people had called to him as the Shadow Knight.

She then looked at Jaune hopefully. "What do you think about it all, Jaune?"

The blonde young man swallowed. "I think ... he's doing his best. Not perfect, but I think this 'Knight' is trying to make the world better, as much as one man can... Even if it kills him."

Velvet's ear's slowly stood up, her eyes widened, and she gave him a wide-happy smile. "I knew it! A good guy like you would surely get it!"

The kettle whistled.

"Let me get that." Velvet said happily, then sat a cup of steaming tea in front of him. Jaune took a whiff of it, it was very floral. Then brought out his lunch-box. It's weight making the table groan as he sat it down.

Velvet looked in shock at what must be a body-builder sized meal. "Wow." Then she looked at the clock. "Oh. I guess it is about lunch-time." Then went and retrieved her own lunch from the back of the room.

------

Yellow flew over the harbor, bored out of her mind. She had to control her power output while she flew, to keep anything sensitive from noticing her. It put her in a bad mood, as her control was by far her weakest trait.

Still, she had promised the rest that she would do her part and parole for a couple hours. It sucked that people were getting killed over here, but it's like all the people at the harbor were upstanding citizens to begin with. She honestly thought, that they're energy was best used going after Grimm Swarms, even if individually they were more than enough to handle that.

Still, flying in circles trying to sense something that might not be there anymore was driving her nuts, she really just wanted to pound some Grimm heads into oblivion.

She looked at the dark sky, realizing it was probably close to midnight now. They usually got done around 1, but sometimes as late as 3. Thankfully, for her beauty-sleep, was one of the perks for being a magical girl, along with Aura, was a reduced need for sleep. Otherwise they'd be useless by daylight.

Though, she still did miss sleeping in.

In the distance she spotted a crimson-glow making its way towards her.

"Hello, Yellow." Crimson greeted her politely.

"Hey, Crimson. Am I done, yet?"

"Indeed you are, feel free to go-" Crimson wasn't even halfway done, before Yellow took off.

"Great!"

Crimson shook her head, and got to patrolling. As a cargo-ship was coming in from the darkness, a heavy and thick fog following in behind it. Orange sparks appearing inside the dark mass only to then disappear.

----

Jaune looked at the rapidly dissolving mass of shadows, then at his ax. It was ridiculously sharp. It had cut through the head of a small shadow-wolf with next to no effort on his part.

It was a big step up from using Spite, the knife had been getting dull, and wasn't very high quality to begin with.

This was going to make combat going forward at lot more efficient.

Taking a breath, he organized his thoughts and controlled his breathing, time to find another one.

He tapped his helmet. "Hey, girls. Anything on your end?" The twins were sitting back at the van keeping a eye out, ready to take pot-shots at anything that got too close.

'Nope.' Miltiades answered.

'Nothing of interest.' Her sister also responded.

"Alright, then."

Jaune went on a stroll, trying to see if he sense any more of them out tonight. But, so far, other than a few stragglers, it had been unusally quiet tonight.

Which would be fine with him, if not for the feeling of dread collecting in his stomach.

He stopped moving, feeling a chill down his back, and looked behind him.

There was a girl with pink and brown hair staring at him from the other end of the alley, she had a parasol over her shoulder, and looked amused.

Jaune stared back. She smiled, and then gave a 'follow me,' motion before running off. He had a bad feeling about her.

He followed anyway.

She was fast, hardly able to keep up, as she practically danced in the air in front of him. It was unnerving. But, he kept pace, running for what must have been ten minutes, with her not even straining.

Then she stopped abruptly, as they rounded in front of a store that had been broken into. A dense heavy fog was surrounding the store, as from within two large, lumbering shadow-wolves scooped up in they're clumsy arms whatever valuables they could, before venturing back into the fog.

Jaune stopped, looking in utter confusion at the sight, trying and failing to figure out what the hell was going on. Analyzing the beasts, before noticing a single glowing sigil on they're heads.

That of a Fox.

He looked back at the girl, then sighed, as she was gone. He looked at the store, and the retreating shadow-wolves disappearing into hardly-visible shapes in the fog.

"Well, well, well." A cocky voice came from above him. "Look who we have here?" Jaune looked up to see the vague-shape of girl glowing yellow, and felt his heart start beating rapidly. "What brings you round these parts, mister Shadow-Knight?"

"Wait-" He didn't get a chance to finish.

"'Cause, it looks like to me that you're robbing the place! Well, whatever, I've been itching for round two for a week now!"

[neproxrezi]

actually on that note, more than Not Being Misgendered what i'd love to change about my voice is make people able to hear and understand my name

some sort of wizard or maybe a pernicious frog cursed me at some point and whenever i tell someone like a receptionist or whatever that my name is Brooke they Drastically Mishear it and or come up with names i've never heard before

things people have written down or referred to me as after i said my name was Brooke

Mr Brooke (they then asked for my first name. and like this is the least bad offender on the list but what kind of person just introduces themselves by their surname)

Brick

Blake

Bruck

Vrooke (this wasn't a typo on a keyboard, they hand wrote it and then also called me Mr Vrooke on the phone)

Derek

[theteablogger]

ValancyRedfern here again -- I've been spending some time since Strange Aeon's video down the Andy Blake rabbithole again. And, having now seen again, from a distance, what he tried to pull and have other people pull on his behalf (remember chordak7? I didn't until last night!), I am now pretty convinced that he was behind lying about me. I don't want to publicly bring in the name of the person who believed the lie about me, but it was that I posted something insulting about them. (1/2)

VR 2/2 -- And that I'd then deleted said post. I never deleted posts on that blog. I don't even know what insulting thing I'm supposed to have said. But I didn't do it, and I had no way to prove it. It shook me -- I don't think Andy's brilliant at getting into everyone's mind, just that he's persistent. If you throw enough at someone, something is bound to stick. You know how Abbey said Andy leaves a lot of anger behind? This was so small, comparatively, and I am still FURIOUS.

I had to look back through a couple of people's archives to find that one, but now I remember. For everyone else, "chordak7" was someone who popped up out of nowhere in 2015 (under a different name) and decided they wanted to do some kind of true crime type writing about Andy. They said they were "drawn to dangerous people" and compared themself to Clarice Starling from The Silence of the Lambs. First they contacted Andy himself; then they started asking Andy Awareness blogs very general questions about him, apparently without having read much of anything first. They were very persistent. The bloggers directed chordak7 to particularly informative posts of theirs and warned them that talking to Andy might not be a great idea. When they refused to do interviews, chordak7 got hostile and rude. A couple of months later, they contacted Abbey to apologize and made a weird and awkward attempt to make friends, while persisting in their intention to write about Andy. Abbey understandably was not receptive and chordak7 finally backed off after that, blaming the whole thing on Andy. It was all very strange.

From the interactions I saw between chordak7 and AA bloggers, and what I just read on their blog from that time, I wouldn't be surprised if Andy had been egging them on. They were very angry with him.

I also wouldn't be surprised if Andy were behind that lie about you. Mr. "I never send anons!" was caught sending an inflammatory one about an AA blogger back then, so who knows how many more he sent to stir shit behind the scenes. I don't blame you for being angry.

[my-shields-are-down]

Karaoke #2 - Because Tim loves 80s Classic New Wave

“OK OK OK! Thank you Luna and Wade for that weird but really excellent version of “Islands in the Stream” by Kenny Rogers and Dolly Parton! Tim - you have a very… um… eclectic list of songs for our singers to choose from, did you make it this random on purpose?” Angela asks of the tipsy and relaxed birthday boy. “Why don’t you come up on stage for the Grand Finale?”

The MidWilshire crew + friends had packed the karaoke/burger joint on Sunset and had basically taken it over for Tim’s surprise birthday celebration.

For the past three weeks, Nyla, Lucy and Angela had been asking Tim’s friends and family about his favorite songs. Rachel, Isobel and Genny had come through with most of the songs on the diverse song list. But it was Tim himself who provided the last two songs of the evening, the ones that Lucy heard him sing in the shower or when he was cooking and cleaning - when he thought he was alone.

Everyone by now knew that Lucy was a phenomenal singer, so Angela waited a few minutes for everyone to refresh their drink, come back inside, or take a last minute bio break. Angela told the crowd her favorite Tim birthday story from when they were rookies and had to arrest the second largest pumpkin farmer for smuggling cocaine in his pumpkins at the County Fair and then had to break up a pie fight that broke out during the pie eating contest. Their shops had smelled of blueberries and pumpkin for weeks.

Backstage, Lucy was once again thanking her very special guest star for coming out for this party and going over the timing of her entrance during the first song and then discussing the harmonies Lucy would sing during the second song. Once they had it figured out, Lucy waved to Angela who came back to check on Lucy and was immediately star-struck by her guest. Lucy laughed and told Angela this is what happens when you delegate - you miss out on some kick-ass connections.

Thankfully, Angela pulled herself together and walked back onstage. She asked for the lights to be dimmed and turned to Tim and said, “happy birthday. Please welcome to the stage - The newly minted Lucy Bradford!”

Lucy stepped on stage and waved to the crowd, then leaned down and kissed her husband and said to him, “because you love classic 80s new wave, this one’s for you.”

The synthesizer began to play and the older members of the crowd who knew either the original version or the more recent remake started cheering and clapping. Tim’s eyes lock on Lucy as he beginsto sing along…

“funny how I find myself, in love with you

If I could buy my reasoning, I'd pay to lose, one half won't do

I've asked myself, how much do you, commit yourself?

It's my life, don't you forget, It's my life, it never ends (it never ends)”

During the very brief interlude before the second verse starts, Lucy turns to the audience and says, “Please welcome to the stage, my new best friend, Mrs…..”

+++++++++++

By total random chance, one of the cases Lucy had helped crack several months ago had closed and the evidence from an upstart “bling ring” where celebrity pooches were having their diamond encrusted accessories stolen needed to be returned to the animal owners. Her second to last return after listening to Harrison Ford regale her and Aaron with baby beagle stories from the set of the last Indiana Jones movie, was to the woman standing next to her on stage. Her blonde labracorgidoodle mutt had a four carat collar returned and she and Lucy hit it off instantly, probably because the dog loved Lucy on sight. When the woman asked to be called if there was any thing she could ever do, Lucy immediately thought of this night 11 months later. Lucy had checked with Wade, IA and HR to make sure she wasn’t going to be accused of accepting kickbacks or anything and got the all clear.

+++++++++

Lucy turns to the audience and says, “Please welcome to the stage, my new best friend, Mrs. Blake Shelton, Gwen Stefani!” The crowd roars and Tim’s jaw drops to the floor of the stage.

He swivels on his bar stool so fast his Burger King crown almost falls off - and there before him in motocross pants, red checkered vans and a black/red “No Doubt” T-shirt stands the only woman he would ever consider leaving his wife for. Tim’s face morphs into a dreamy, yet bashful smile and his cheeks turn pink as Gwen leans over and kisses his cheek before stepping around him to finish singing It’s My Life - the version she and her band No Doubt made famous in 2003 - 20 years after the original version by Talk Talk burst onto radios everywhere.

Once done, Gwen leads the crowd in a rousing version of “Happy Birthday” to Tim who smiles and hugs Lucy close to him. Then Lucy nods to Gwen who says, “I hear this is your favorite song, so I dedicate it to you from Lucy.”

As the opening notes of “Don’t Speak” begin to play, Tim begins to cry. He’s overwhelmed with emotions watching his favorite singer, sing his favorite song with his absolute favorite person. Their voices blending beautifully during the song’s melancholic verses and chorus. He realizes this whole restaurant is full of people who love him (well they love Gwen right now) but they love him too. He never imagined a life with this much joy and love before Lucy came around. If this moment is a glimpse of his future with Lucy? He’ll take it and then some. He pulls Lucy close as the song ends and nods to Gwen. He nuzzles Lucy’s neck and whispers “best birthday ever.”

[grandhotelabyss]

Rearranging my bookshelves at the moment in chronological order. One thing I noticed is that after Austen... English literature kinda fizzled out. At least until the early 1890s when a whole pile of writers emerge all at once (Wilde, Yeats, Shaw, Stevenson, Conrad, Doyle, Hardy, H. G. Welles, and more; and almost immediately they're followed by a tidal wave of modernists). Whereas for seventy years, aside from the three big poets you're covering plus Alice In Wonderland, it's just Dickens, Eliot, and the Brontes!

Now, admittedly the 'just' is doing some heavy lifting — but so are those novelists, in carrying Shakespeare's language over a seventy-ish year period! And in terms of variety, they feel like both a less *diverse* ('sprawling 18C three-deckers' describes accurately, if dismissively, most of those novels) and, more controversially, a less *fruitful* crop than the bursting quarter-century from Blake's first illuminated manuscripts to Austen's death.

Now you did discuss the 'cultural studies' aspect of the Victorian era, which was very enlightening — but at the same time, Russian, French, and American literature each undergo what are almost certainly their greatest periods! Which makes sense to me considering the *imaginative* ferment I'd expect to be cause by the political and industrial revolutions of the entire period... like, those three countries didn't reduce to cultural studies!

So, three questions: 1) Who am I missing over that stretch from Austen's death to, let's say, Dorian Gray? 2) Do you think this reading is correct, or am I weighting things wrongly, either being too dismissive of the writers named, or giving too much credit to the writers at either end of the century? 3) What, if you can answer something so broad, was different in France, America and Russia?

(Sorry to set you a three-part essay question on a Wednesday night lmao, really I'm just fishing for any interesting thoughts you might have)

If I were to dispute your claim, I would do so in two ways: 1. I'd say that Dickens is so enormous, so much the iconic and canonical English novelist, the one who stands next to Shakespeare, that he carries the whole period; and 2. I'd say (and have already said in The Invisible College) that the Victorian Sage writers like Carlyle, Ruskin, and Arnold have the weight and intensity of the prior Romantic poets and subsequent modernists.

If someone else were to dispute your claim, someone else might say that there are a lot of great novelists in the mid-Victorian period, like Trollope, Thackeray, Mrs. Gaskell, and Wilkie Collins. Someone else might say this, but I could never get interested in those writers, and I doubt anyone thinks they're the equal of Balzac, Melville, or Tolstoy—or of Dickens. On the other hand, we now take the Brontës far more seriously than people once did—I would put them essentially on the same level as Austen and Dickens—so fashions in these things are always changing.

So I essentially agree with you that, except for the writers you name, especially Dickens and Eliot, it's a fairly flat period. I suspect the reasons are the ones the modernists would have offered, despite their sometimes exaggerated animus against the Victorians: the sentimentalism, the censoriousness, the middle-class piety, the imperial self-regard, the padded serials, and all the rest of it.

I've quoted on here before Seamus Deane's slightly offensive view of the matter in his Celtic Revivals, coming from Marxist postcolonial theory (and as I've also said before, this is particularly unfair to George Eliot, who, I must emphasize, translated Spinoza):

It is, I believe, easier to understand Joyce’s achievement in this respect by looking to the Continental tradition of the novel. There the theme of intellectual vocation was much more deeply rooted and was treated with a subtlety quite foreign to the evangelical, female puritan spirit which so dominated the sentimental English novel. Perhaps Middlemarch more than any other single work shows how the innate provincialism of the English novel deprived it of a consciousness of itself as a part of a greater European culture. This is something conspicuously present in the French and, even more, in the Russian novel of the nineteenth century. One could not imagine Crime and Punishment or Le Rouge et le Noir without the idea of Europe, especially Christian Europe, as a living force in them, in their traditions, and in the minds of their creators. But Emma and Great Expectations and Middlemarch survive happily, and more modestly, apart from that idea. Not until an American, Henry James, arrived on the scene was the novel in English Europeanized, and the Irishman Joyce countered this achievement by anglicizing the European novel.

So that "puritan" and "provincial" spirit explains the disparity between the English on the one hand and the Russians and French on the other, who were simply writing in different social circumstances for an audience presumed to contain fewer young ladies in need of moral protection. One might add the English empirical bias against big ideas, which authors as different as Blake and Eliot would so strongly protest.

In Love and Death in the American Novel, Leslie Fiedler says the European novelists held together an audience that consisted of common readers, mostly female, on the one hand, and highbrow intellectuals, mostly male, on the other. The Anglo novelist, by contrast, somehow let this audience fragment early on and had to address either one set of readers or the other.

The American case is particularly instructive: Hawthorne and Melville were neglected in their time, relegated to the margin by popular novels written in "the evangelical, female puritan spirit," of which Uncle Tom's Cabin is the most famous—but we just don't read these books! We read The Scarlet Letter and Moby-Dick instead of The Lamplighter or The Wide, Wide World. It's as if the English Victorian canon had been reduced to Sartor Resartus and Wuthering Heights. This causes the historicist critic to despair, and obviously a certain type of feminist critic too, who especially resents Hawthorne's line about "the damned mob of scribbling women," but what we can we do? We're interested in what we're interested in. And as I said in one of the IC episodes, it's not as if the great female writers of the 20th century wanted to follow in Stowe's footsteps either, since the puritan and provincial spirit was a much a prison for female authors in the 19th century as it was their place (their only permissible place) of articulation.

[annesoftheisland]

Anne of the Island - Chapter XXV

Enter Prince Charming

"I'm contrasting the claims of indoors and out," said Anne, looking from the window of Patty's Place to the distant pines of the park.

"I've an afternoon to spend in sweet doing nothing, Aunt Jimsie. Shall I spend it here where there is a cosy fire, a plateful of delicious russets, three purring and harmonious cats, and two impeccable china dogs with green noses? Or shall I go to the park, where there is the lure of gray woods and of gray water lapping on the harbor rocks?"

"If I was as young as you, I'd decide in favor of the park," said Aunt Jamesina, tickling Joseph's yellow ear with a knitting needle.

"I thought that you claimed to be as young as any of us, Aunty," teased Anne.

"Yes, in my soul. But I'll admit my legs aren't as young as yours. You go and get some fresh air, Anne. You look pale lately."

"I think I'll go to the park," said Anne restlessly. "I don't feel like tame domestic joys today. I want to feel alone and free and wild. The park will be empty, for every one will be at the football match."

"Why didn't you go to it?"

"`Nobody axed me, sir, she said' -- at least, nobody but that horrid little Dan Ranger. I wouldn't go anywhere with him; but rather than hurt his poor little tender feelings I said I wasn't going to the game at all. I don't mind. I'm not in the mood for football today somehow."

"You go and get some fresh air," repeated Aunt Jamesina, "but take your umbrella, for I believe it's going to rain. I've rheumatism in my leg."

"Only old people should have rheumatism, Aunty."

"Anybody is liable to rheumatism in her legs, Anne. It's only old people who should have rheumatism in their souls, though. Thank goodness, I never have. When you get rheumatism in your soul you might as well go and pick out your coffin."

It was November -- the month of crimson sunsets, parting birds, deep, sad hymns of the sea, passionate wind-songs in the pines. Anne roamed through the pineland alleys in the park and, as she said, let that great sweeping wind blow the fogs out of her soul. Anne was not wont to be troubled with soul fog. But, somehow, since her return to Redmond for this third year, life had not mirrored her spirit back to her with its old, perfect, sparkling clearness.

Outwardly, existence at Patty's Place was the same pleasant round of work and study and recreation that it had always been. On Friday evenings the big, fire-lighted livingroom was crowded by callers and echoed to endless jest and laughter, while Aunt Jamesina smiled beamingly on them all. The "Jonas" of Phil's letter came often, running up from St. Columbia on the early train and departing on the late. He was a general favorite at Patty's Place, though Aunt Jamesina shook her head and opined that divinity students were not what they used to be.

"He's VERY nice, my dear," she told Phil, "but ministers ought to be graver and more dignified."

"Can't a man laugh and laugh and be a Christian still?" demanded Phil.

"Oh, MEN -- yes. But I was speaking of MINISTERS, my dear," said Aunt Jamesina rebukingly." And you shouldn't flirt so with Mr. Blake -- you really shouldn't."

"I'm not flirting with him," protested Phil.

Nobody believed her, except Anne. The others thought she was amusing herself as usual, and told her roundly that she was behaving very badly.

"Mr. Blake isn't of the Alec-and-Alonzo type, Phil," said Stella severely. "He takes things seriously. You may break his heart."

"Do you really think I could?" asked Phil. "I'd love to think so."

"Philippa Gordon! I never thought you were utterly unfeeling. The idea of you saying you'd love to break a man's heart!"

"I didn't say so, honey. Quote me correctly. I said I'd like to think I COULD break it. I would like to know I had the POWER to do it."

"I don't understand you, Phil. You are leading that man on deliberately -- and you know you don't mean anything by it."

"I mean to make him ask me to marry him if I can," said Phil calmly.

"I give you up," said Stella hopelessly.

Gilbert came occasionally on Friday evenings. He seemed always in good spirits, and held his own in the jests and repartee that flew about. He neither sought nor avoided Anne. When circumstances brought them in contact he talked to her pleasantly and courteously, as to any newly-made acquaintance. The old camaraderie was gone entirely. Anne felt it keenly; but she told herself she was very glad and thankful that Gilbert had got so completely over his disappointment in regard to her. She had really been afraid, that April evening in the orchard, that she had hurt him terribly and that the wound would be long in healing. Now she saw that she need not have worried. Men have died and the worms have eaten them but not for love. Gilbert evidently was in no danger of immediate dissolution. He was enjoying life, and he was full of ambition and zest. For him there was to be no wasting in despair because a woman was fair and cold. Anne, as she listened to the ceaseless badinage that went on between him and Phil, wondered if she had only imagined that look in his eyes when she had told him she could never care for him.

There were not lacking those who would gladly have stepped into Gilbert's vacant place. But Anne snubbed them without fear and without reproach. If the real Prince Charming was never to come she would have none of a substitute. So she sternly told herself that gray day in the windy park.

Suddenly the rain of Aunt Jamesina's prophecy came with a swish and rush. Anne put up her umbrella and hurried down the slope. As she turned out on the harbor road a savage gust of wind tore along it. Instantly her umbrella turned wrong side out. Anne clutched at it in despair. And then -- there came a voice close to her.

"Pardon me -- may I offer you the shelter of my umbrella?"

Anne looked up. Tall and handsome and distinguished-looking -- dark, melancholy, inscrutable eyes -- melting, musical, sympathetic voice -- yes, the very hero of her dreams stood before her in the flesh. He could not have more closely resembled her ideal if he had been made to order.

"Thank you," she said confusedly.

"We'd better hurry over to that little pavillion on the point," suggested the unknown. "We can wait there until this shower is over. It is not likely to rain so heavily very long."

The words were very commonplace, but oh, the tone! And the smile which accompanied them! Anne felt her heart beating strangely.

Together they scurried to the pavilion and sat breathlessly down under its friendly roof. Anne laughingly held up her false umbrella.

"It is when my umbrella turns inside out that I am convinced of the total depravity of inanimate things," she said gaily.

The raindrops sparkled on her shining hair; its loosened rings curled around her neck and forehead. Her cheeks were flushed, her eyes big and starry. Her companion looked down at her admiringly. She felt herself blushing under his gaze. Who could he be? Why, there was a bit of the Redmond white and scarlet pinned to his coat lapel. Yet she had thought she knew, by sight at least, all the Redmond students except the Freshmen. And this courtly youth surely was no Freshman.

"We are schoolmates, I see," he said, smiling at Anne's colors. "That ought to be sufficient introduction. My name is Royal Gardner. And you are the Miss Shirley who read the Tennyson paper at the Philomathic the other evening, aren't you?"

"Yes; but I cannot place you at all," said Anne, frankly. "Please, where DO you belong?"

"I feel as if I didn't belong anywhere yet. I put in my Freshman and Sophomore years at Redmond two years ago. I've been in Europe ever since. Now I've come back to finish my Arts course."

"This is my Junior year, too," said Anne.

"So we are classmates as well as collegemates. I am reconciled to the loss of the years that the locust has eaten," said her companion, with a world of meaning in those wonderful eyes of his.

The rain came steadily down for the best part of an hour. But the time seemed really very short. When the clouds parted and a burst of pale November sunshine fell athwart the harbor and the pines Anne and her companion walked home together. By the time they had reached the gate of Patty's Place he had asked permission to call, and had received it. Anne went in with cheeks of flame and her heart beating to her fingertips. Rusty, who climbed into her lap and tried to kiss her, found a very absent welcome. Anne, with her soul full of romantic thrills, had no attention to spare just then for a crop-eared pussy cat.

That evening a parcel was left at Patty's Place for Miss Shirley. It was a box containing a dozen magnificent roses. Phil pounced impertinently on the card that fell from it, read the name and the poetical quotation written on the back.

"Royal Gardner!" she exclaimed. "Why, Anne, I didn't know you were acquainted with Roy Gardner!"

"I met him in the park this afternoon in the rain," explained Anne hurriedly. "My umbrella turned inside out and he came to my rescue with his."

"Oh!" Phil peered curiously at Anne." And is that exceedingly commonplace incident any reason why he should send us longstemmed roses by the dozen, with a very sentimental rhyme? Or why we should blush divinest rosy-red when we look at his card? Anne, thy face betrayeth thee."

"Don't talk nonsense, Phil. Do you know Mr. Gardner?"

"I've met his two sisters, and I know of him. So does everybody worthwhile in Kingsport. The Gardners are among the richest, bluest, of Bluenoses. Roy is adorably handsome and clever. Two years ago his mother's health failed and he had to leave college and go abroad with her -- his father is dead. He must have been greatly disappointed to have to give up his class, but they say he was perfectly sweet about it. Fee -- fi -- fo -- fum, Anne. I smell romance. Almost do I envy you, but not quite. After all, Roy Gardner isn't Jonas."

"You goose!" said Anne loftily. But she lay long awake that night, nor did she wish for sleep. Her waking fancies were more alluring than any vision of dreamland. Had the real Prince come at last? Recalling those glorious dark eyes which had gazed so deeply into her own, Anne was very strongly inclined to think he had.

[duck-postsblog]

I've started trying a story, on a universe I made. So, I was wanting others opinions so please tell me what you think of it.

Chapter one.

Thousands of years ago there were 8 gods. Those 8 gods created everything. The things that standed out the most about those gods were their eyes. One God had red eyes, one with orange, one with yellow, one with green, one with blue, one with Violet, and finally one with full black eyes. The one with black eyes was the most powerful, but everyone was treated equally.

One day they decided to create others on the earth they created. Everyone one of the humans had a different color of eyes that the gods had. The color eye depended on how powerful they are. Weakest to strongest was green, red, orange, blue, yellow, Violet, then black. Black was never seen by anybody's eyes. Green eyes were most common to be treated like slaves for years, but after a while people went against it, but people still judge off eye color.

A trans man started at a new school, a high school. His name was Ash. His eyes were a bright yellow. He wore black cargo pants, a thin orange, and yellow tie dye jacket with a white shirt, and he wore flame glasses. He always had a smile with sharp teeth. He has black hair.

Ash walked into the school, the hallways

packed. "Well, Damn." He said under his breath. There was a group of people that stood out though. Most of them had Violet eyes, but one had green eyes.

The four that had Violet eyes wore stylish clothing, jeans, shirts with different band logos, and whatnot. The one with Green eyes wore black leather pants, and a tie dye shirt that's purple, and red. One had blonde hair, his name was Henry, one with black hair was named Owen, one with black hair as well was named Blake, and one with brown hair was named Ryan, and the one with green eyes was named Garth.

The bell rang for the first period. Everyone quickly walked to their classes. Ash walked to the office, and got his classes written down. He walked to his first class, room "401, Mr. Smith.". Mr. Smith looked at Ash, and gave him a welcoming smile. Mr. Smith had blue eyes. "Go ahead, and take a seat, Ash. We're just reading today" Ash went to his seat. Moments later, it was already Recess.

During recess, Ash decided to explore the school grounds and familiarize himself with his new surroundings. As he ventured outside, he noticed a group of students engaged in a heated argument near the playground. Their voices were raised, and tensions were high.

Curiosity piqued, Ash approached the group cautiously. He could see that they were all from different eye color categories. The three students with Violet eyes appeared to be mocking and ridiculing a person, who had green eyes.

Unable to resist standing up for someone being treated unjustly, Ash walked over to them confidently. "Hey, what's going on here?" he asked, his voice bold and assertive.

The group turned to face him, their attention immediately shifting from the person. The students with Violet eyes wore expressions of superiority, while the green eyed person seemed surprised by Ash's intervention.

"We're just having a little fun, newbie. Mind your own business," one of the Violet-eyed students sneered.

Ash's eyes narrowed, and he crossed his arms. "Fun at someone else's expense isn't cool," he replied firmly. "Why don't you find something better to do?"

The tension in the air grew thicker, and the exchange escalated. The Violet-eyed students were not accustomed to being challenged, especially by someone with yellow eyes. They had grown used to their perceived superiority, based solely on eye color.

Suddenly, Henry, the student with the blonde hair and Violet eyes, stepped forward. He towered over Ash, trying to intimidate him. "You don't understand how things work here, kid. We determine who's in charge," he sneered, his voice dripping with arrogance.

Ash's smile widened, revealing his sharp teeth. "Well..." Henry quickly punched Ash across the playground. Everyone stared at Ash from afar, whispering and laughing a bit. Henry shouted with a cocky tone, "God, you yellow eyes are so stupid!" Henry gave his own remark a small laugh. "You really tried to stand up for someone when you're weak yourself?! I never realized how pathetic people with eyes below Purple are." Henry pulled down his lower eyelid and stuck out his tongue. The others who were behind Henry laughed. Blake looked at Ash and said, "Don't worry, Sweetheart~ we'll go easy on you this school year!" Ash's grin grew bigger as he got up. He quickly appeared behind Henry. Ash whispered, "Shh," as he kicked Henry into the school wall, creating multiple cracks.

Everyone stared in shock, whispering and glaring. Ash walked away from the other purple-eyed people. Henry shouted, "Do you think you can just walk away after that? You're insane! This little fight doesn't end until you're dead." Henry's purple eyes gleamed.

He disappeared from his spot and appeared right in front of Ash, his fist already swinging. Ash quickly moved his head. "You know, you purple eyes really don't watch what you're doing!" As he said that, Ash kneed Henry in the stomach, making him vomit. Ash chuckled as he gave a sadistic smile to Henry. "Wow, what slow reaction time you have! I guess yellow eyes are just better at dodging, huh?" Ash said in a mockingly baby tone. "Well, I guess you females are better at dodging because of how much cum you have to dodge to keep it out of your eyes." Henry said in a low tone, panting. Silence filled the air, with Ash still wearing a grin on his face.

Matthew walked through the school doors, observing the commotion around him. Ash noticed Matthew's presence, diverting his attention towards him. Henry and the other students with Violet eyes also turned their gaze towards Matthew. Henry rolled his eyes and muttered, "God, so many green-eyed fucks!" Matthew simply shrugged off the comment and walked in a different direction, exploring the surroundings of the school. Ash chuckled and remarked, "Imagine someone ignoring you, even after being called a 'green-eyed fuck'! Hahaha!" Henry glared at Ash and retorted, "Shut up!" Matthew couldn't help but let out a small snicker in response.

Meanwhile, Alexander entered the scene. He had blonde hair with purple streaks and was dressed in ripped gray jeans. His plaid-patterned lapel featured a combination of black, light orange, and white, and he sported black, thick steel-toe shoes. What caught everyone's attention, however, was the fact that he had one eye that was purple and another eye that was green. Blake stared at Alexander in surprise and exclaimed, "What the fuck?"

Alexander surveyed the area, contemplating who he should approach today. His eyes eventually landed on Matthew, and under his breath, he said, "Bingo." He walked over to Matthew and got uncomfortably close, saying, "What's up, sweetheart?" He placed his hand on the back of Matthew's head and leaned in toward his face, while his other hand lightly touched Matthew's body under his shirt and then ventured towards his pants, with the tips of his fingers brushing against the fabric.

Matthew's face flushed red with embarrassment, and he immediately pushed Alexander away. "We're in public," he said firmly. Alexander looked at Matthew with a slight expression of disbelief and responded, "I don't care, Cutie~." Matthew rolled his eyes at Alexander's comment, dismissing it.

As the bell rang, signaling the end of the break, everyone made their way to their respective classrooms, continuing with their day until school was over.

[zacs-of-rwby]

Tip: Tip flinches slightly as Cinder speaks, looking rather uncomfortable for a moment. Like the others he's intrigued by the idea of a portal, although he's seen no evidence of magic in this world yet, that doesn't mean there isn't any.

Once Mr Oz finishes speaking, he clears his throat slightly.

"Yes, well, hello there. It's good to meet you all. I am indeed another version of your Mr. Oz, though he's right that I am not actually a child. Magic, in my version of Remnant, is very much in existance. We have auras tied to our souls and semblances, sort of a singular, soul given power, tied into ourselves. From what I have been told, these are something that don't exist in your world.

Moreover, for us, the fairytales are more than mere stories. There are evil things stalking my Remnant, we call them Grimm. As such, we learn to fight monsters from a young age. Most of you, in my world, are huntresses and huntsmen, in fact.

The Grimm have a leader, a controller, if you will. She is magcal in a way most of us aren't...

I've been informed that you have some of the same stories? It might be interesting to compare them, later.

My apologies if I interrupted at all."

Mr. Oz: Don't worry, dear. You didn't interrupt anything.

Ruby: Did you just say we're huntresses in your world?

Blake: Does that mean we fight monsters or something?

Yang: Yooooo, that's sick! I bet we're all badasses! [mimicks fighting and punching motions]

Oscar: Magic and monsters and powers... fairy tales that are real... wow.... It sounds like something out of a fantasy novel.

Ruby: Wait.... you said you were actually an adult... Was that because of the magic? Is that like... normal in your world?

[oatflatwhite]

get to know the blogger

tagged by @tamayokny thank u mads <33

share your wallpaper

i'm on desktop rn so have a screenshot of her :') it's a live wallpaper of a scene from horizon zero dawn so it turns to night/dawn etc.

last song you listened to

confident from the & juliet soundtrack. i went and saw the australian production when i was in melbourne last month and i fell in love!!! blake appelqvist is everything to me i want to be them when i grow up

currently reading

um. so i started a reread of the foxhole court yesterday. so... yeah. #regression

last movie

i watched barbie princess and the pauper last night lmao. the "at least you're not an indentured servant" line is the funniest line from modern cinema no i will not be taking any notes

last show

rewatched once more with feeling last night! otherwise before that was it's always sunny which i'm watching for the first time with my housemates

craving

nachos. fucking OATH except it's good friday so can't eat meat lol

what are you wearing

white t-shirt tucked into white/pale blue washed jean/cargo pant thingys. i had a crisis this morning over what to wear to good friday lunch that turned very gender

how tall are you

5'4

piercings

none. i had my ears done but they got infected so no more :( i would love a nose piercing but i think the same thing would probably happen so i'm gonna play i safe sigh

tattoos

none (yet)

glasses/contacts

yeah i got spectacles

last thing you ate

said good friday lunch. grilled salmon, boiled potato and a pumpkin spinach and feta salad

favourite colour

used to be yellow. now i'm not sure.

current obsession

honestly? nothing really at the moment. been kind of listless for a while. busy with uni i think

pets

mr archie :) no pictures but he is handsome rest assured

favourite fuctional character

sansa, duh. even though i would willingly fight george r r martin to the death.

last place you travelled

did a trip to melbourne and adelaide last month :) finally met some tumblr friends i've known since i was 16!

tagging @markoliphant @fleurmatisse @pegasusdrawnchariots and @renecdote if you guys want <3

[riverstardis]

series 32 episode 37:

alicia :(

oh isn't that the actress who played young yaz's grandma in doctor who?

lmaooo bea and rash trying to use the coffee machine i miss them sjdjsfjfd

leigh-anne🙄 apparently they're taking kiegan off the oxygen today and ethan said he'd be there but the eds really busy because there's been a coach crash so he says he's sure she'll be fine without him and mr barling knows what he's doing but she insists

alicia volunteering to go out to the crash to get away from eddie :(

connie's mad that she went without permission and ethan says he and bea will help with the backlog but then immediately leaves bea when he gets a text from leigh-anne. what are you doing man😭😭

oh no leigh-anne runs over to ethan and hugs him when he gets to paeds and he's uncomfortable and mr barling's starting at them😭😭😭 then when jonathan's gone she says they shouldn't have to skulk around in the shadows and she wants to tell people now that kiegan's no longer a patient... which is an interesting thing to say when they're standing next to his hospital bed... ethan says they need to be careful and he just seems annoyed tbh i think forgiving alicia snapped him out of whatever he thought he felt for leigh-anne lmao

oop ethan goes to speak to mr barling, presumably to try and convince him there was nothing inappropriate going on but it's too late lmao mr barling has clearly already figured it out and warns him that there are boundaries they don't cross and ethan's like "yeah, i admit, she has come to rely on my support more than i would've liked" which i think is probably true tbh, though obviously missing out a HUGE chunk of the whole story, bc she has become weirdly distrustful of every other doctor and will only trust him, and yeah he got way too involved with helping her with kiegan to appease his guilt about scott, but he never tried to isolate her or anything so i do believe he didn't want her to end up like this. mr barling's just like "i've seen too many careers cut short because of a doctor who has confused the personal and the professional. i hope you aren't about to add to that number." so true make him see sense. go onnn ethan break up with her i know you want to!

wall collapses on the coach with alicia, iain, sam, and their patient still inside :/

leigh-anne's sitting in reception waiting for ethan??? girl go home what is wrong with you??? he is not happy to see her and tells her that barling knows and she says she doesn't care "tell them all" and he says it's not that simple and he's broken rules doing this and she says he's done nothing wrong and tries to take his hand and he pulls away and eventually manages to convince her to go home. mmmkay now how long til she's back again

lmaoo david tells ethan his patient from the crash's "girlfriend was trapped inside, and by all accounts so was dr munroe" and ethan turns his head SO FAST SJJSDJFSJ soo you see why he's lost patience for leigh-anne😭😭😭

aww he looks so worried🥺

oh look who it is! she managed to leave for one whole scene. kiegan's lips are blue or something and elle rushes him through meanwhile leigh-anne's trying to get her to get ethan

sjsjdf jacob answers the phone and ethan rushes over and jacob tells him that their lot are fine and they're on their way with the patient and ethan says to keep him posted because "the boyfriend's out of his mind with worry" mhmm yep he wasn't the only one though was he?

iain's worried about how cold alicia looks but she says she's fine :/

elle literally got mr barling down to look at kiegan and he says he's breathing fine it's just cold outside but leigh-anne isn't happy she's demanding a second opinion from ethan. i'm sure elle's wondering why she would trust an adult doctor over a paeds doctor with considerably more years of experience

sam finds blake using her punch bag in the ambulance station and says he might as well do it right and demonstrates and he's staring at her in awe. yeah you and me both buddy

aww alicia collapses in resus and they ofc assume she's hypothermic because she's soaking wet and ethan leaves bea to observe dylan doing the procedure and takes alicia to resus 2 to warm her up and she's saying she's so sorry and he's like don't be silly🥺

awww bea comes to check up on alicia🥺🥺🥺🥺 hey listen, alicia has two hands🏳‍🌈 bea says she got soaked out there so no wonder she's hypothermic but ethan says her temperature's actually fine so alicia attributes her collapse to the day taking it out of her :(

alicia comments on how good bea is after she's gone and ethan says she's a fast learner and alicia asks if they can swap mentees for a bit and then she's like "we are friends aren't we?" and he's like "yeah? yeah, i hope so" and she's definitely about to tell him what happened with eddie but elle interrupts them to tell ethan about leigh-anne urghhh ffs

"ethan, you have an admirer! leigh-anne carr is demanded your professional attention for her baby and she won't settle for anything less" "leigh-anne's baby kiegan was discharged?" "well he's back. she said he wasn't breathing but his test results show that he passed with flying colours"😭

ethan reassures leigh-anne that mr barling is a brilliant paediatrician and she goes "yeah. he thinks a lot of himself." huh????

yesss finally he breaks up with her! "i made a mistake, and i'm so sorry, but that's what i do. i just make things worse." oh :((((( ethan PLEASE go to therapy

alicia was waiting for ethan but she gets a call from eddie and he leaves a voicemail saying he's going to come and find her at the end of shift so she leaves early :(

then ethan's looking for her and bea says she's gone home and he says he's worried about her getting home safely because she was so shaken up earlier and eddie offers to go and check up on her and ethan's confused why he would and says it's okay he can do it and rash is smiling at eddie and bea is also confused and asks rash if he's withholding gossip from her😭😭

aw alicia :(

oh shit that made actually made me jump too wtf😭 she looks in the mirror and sees eddie behind her (he's not actually there)

ethan's brought her a bottle of wine and says he was worried about her and they never finished their conversation and then says that he lied earlier about them being friends. WHY WOULD YOU PHRASE IT THAT WAY😭😭😭 she's upset and he clarifies that he means he doesn't think they can be friends because he's still in love with her🥺 yeah wbk bestie but you have TERRIBLE timing AGAIN😭 if he'd told her that literally 24 hours earlier they would've got back together and then eddie never would've had the chance to get anywhere near her :(

her reaction clearly isn't what he hoped for so he apologises for dropping that on her like that and goes to leave but she grabs his arm and says she has to tell him something but she needs a glass of wine first. noooo alicia JUST TELL HIM WHILE YOUVE GOT THE CHANCE

he goes to the kitchen to get glasses and sees a note eddie left on the fridge and assumes that was what she wanted to tell him and he's like "i'm so stupid. he offered to come round, i practically elbowed him out of the way." "ethan this is not what you think" "that's why you wanted to work with bea?" "no! well, yes, but not because i..." "i'm gonna go" "no, please don't!" "i'm such an idiot. i shouldn't have come." she's crying and begging him to stay but she can't say what she means properly so he just says it's fine and he'll see her tomorrow and leaves :((((

alicia burning her bedding😢😢😢😢😢

[abigailspinach]

"I hate Evelyn Blake. There is no doubt at all about that. And there is as little doubt that she hates me. We are instinctive enemies—we looked at each other the first time we met like two strange cats, and that was enough. I never really hated any one before. I thought I did but now I know it was only dislike. Hate is rather interesting for a change. Evelyn is a Junior—tall, clever, rather handsome. Has long, bright, treacherous brown eyes and talks through her nose. She has literary ambitions, I understand, and considers herself the best dressed girl in High School. Perhaps she is; but somehow her clothes seem to make more impression on you than she does. People criticize Ilse for dressing too richly and too old but she dominates her clothes for all that. Evelyn doesn't. You always think of her clothes before you think of her. The difference seems to be that Evelyn dresses for other people and Ilse dresses for herself. I must write a character sketch of her when I have studied her a little more. What a satisfaction that will be!

----

"'I want one of the new ties,' she said. 'There are some sweet ones at Jones and McCallum's and they are awfully smart. The little black velvet ribbon you are wearing around your neck, Miss Starr, is rather becoming. I used to wear one myself when they were in style.'

"I couldn't think of anything clever to say in retort. I can think of clever things so easily when there is no one to say them to. So I said nothing but merely smiled very slowly and disdainfully. That seemed to annoy Evelyn more than speech, for I heard she said afterwards that 'that Emily Starr' had a very affected smile.

"Note:—One can do a great deal with appropriate smiles. I must study the subject carefully. The friendly smile—the scornful smile—the detached smile—the entreating smile—the common or garden grin.

---

I concluded that it would not be in keeping with New Moon traditions to break the rule. Besides, Aunt Ruth asks me every blessed night when I come home from school if I've walked with anybody. I think she's sometimes a little disappointed when I say 'No.'

"Besides, I didn't much fancy any of the boys who wanted to walk with me.

----

"I wrote a character study of Ilse to-day. Very fascinating. It is difficult to analyse her. She is so different and unexpectable. (I coined that word myself.) She doesn't even get mad like anybody else. I enjoy her tantrums. She doesn't say so many awful things in them as she used to but she is piquant. (Piquant is a new word for me. I like using a new word. I never think I really own a word until I've spoken or written it.)

---

Mr. Hardy merely told her she was acting like a baby and would have to pay for the vase, since it was school property. That rather squelched Ilse; she thought it a tame ending to her heroics.

"I scolded her roundly. Really, somebody has to bring Ilse up and nobody but me seems to feel any responsibility in the matter. Dr. Burnley will just roar with laughter when she tells him. But I might as well have scolded the Wind Woman. Ilse just laughed and hugged me.

"'Honey, it made such a jolly smash. When I heard it I wasn't a bit mad any more.'

---

"'You mustn't feel badly about it, Miss Starr. Tom said it wasn't half bad but of course not up to The Quill's standard. Likely in another year or two you'll be able to get in. Keep on trying.'

"'Thanks,' I said. 'I'm not feeling badly. Why should I? I didn't make "beam" rhyme with "green" in my poem. If I had I'd be feeling very badly indeed.'

"Evelyn coloured to her eyes.

"'Don't show your disappointment so plainly, child,' she said.

"But I noticed she dropped the subject after that.