#unfortunately it's not actually very conducive to sleep

[livinginadumpster]

me: time to go to sleep! roll the tape!

my brain: *starts playing edwin's confession scene word for word*

[repentarium]

the truth is i've been dreaming of this tired tranquil place tag 1/?

ao3

When Steve Harrington was ten his parents stopped paying for the babysitter.

Mary was, in his tiny kid mind, about a thousand years old, and she made the best food he'd ever eaten. She would cook with him every time they were together, not FOR him, but teaching his small hands how to make soups and bake breads and make omelettes and mac and cheese.

Mary was unceremoniously told she wouldn't be coming back. Steve of course didn't know any of this until he called his parents sobbing that he was alone and Mary never showed up only to hear 'oh darling didn't we tell you? You're old enough to look after yourself! There are tv dinners in the freezer and money for takeout in the end table, we'll see you next week!' When she was let go, Mary immediately made plans to go into the big bookstore in Indianapolis and buy cookbooks for Steve.

She left the three of them at his doorstep: the Joy of Cooking, the Betty Crocker Cookbook, and and the Better Homes New Junior Cookbook. That last one continued his cooking experiments, and even though it started out basic (English muffin pizzas, toasted sandwiches, grilled cheese) it and the knowledge Mary left him with kept him from starving or eating only junk. In no time he was biking to the store with his takeout money and buying his own groceries.

All of this to say, by the time he's a grown up he is not only prepared to fend for himself in the emptiness of the Harrington Residence, he's fully capable of feeding all of the little gremlins, and even the teens. If he'd gone to therapy about it he'd be able to voice that it's a way of caring for people in a way he didn't have himself from his parents in a way he's very capable of. He didn't have therapy, though, just cookbooks. And time.

Another thing about Steve is that he's just never been good at sleeping, not really. Even as a baby he cried through the night and kept his parents up (don't worry, they told him about it constantly).

After the stuff with Vecna in the upside down, after everyone got out safe and semi-sound, he thought he'd finally be tired enough to average more than four hours of sleep a night.

Unfortunately the exact opposite happened; he's taken to cat naps in the middle of the day when he can, because night time isn't exactly conducive to sleeping at all anymore.

What it IS conducive to is baking. Sure, cooking too, but he gets a little sad cooking meals for just himself. He can put on a record and bake a few trays of muffins or cookies or scones, and it's not as weird because he gives them to his friends and the little family they've cultivated.

He doesn't tell them they're made at four in the morning, but they don't usually ask, they're just grateful for a tasty breakfast or lunch or after school snack when he's driving them around.

He thinks Dustin has a gluten sensitivity, so he learns the ins and outs of almond flour, and Robin doesn't do dairy so much anymore but loves the halva recipe he found in a cookbook at the library. He's perfected a killer flourless double chocolate cookie recipe that everyone loves, and even Hopper can't tell it's gluten- and dairy-free.

When Eddie lets it slip that he's not really using the night time to sleep either, Steve ropes him into it. He makes a big fuss and says he needs help and someone to taste this recipe because he's doing to actually hurl if he eats another cookie, but they're snickerdoodles (which are Eddie's favorite) and Eddie spends most of the time in awe of the space and the gadgets and taste testing bites of basically everything and DEFINITELY not getting flour everywhere. Steve knows sometimes getting your mind out of the darkness is nice, and if they can help each other out AND add another snack to the menu, two birds one stone.

They totally don't dare each other to eat weird configurations of fancy condiments or spoonfuls of cinnamon and it's all very serious and professional. It's not *every* night, but after the first few months it's more often than not.

One night Steve ends up covered in flour somehow, and while he's washing up Eddie finds a little note card tucked into the middle of the Joy of Cooking from someone named Mary who seems to care a lot about 'Stevie'.

It's got a fancy-sounding but easy enough recipe for something called Jetson Casserole, all hand-scrawled and with tiny doodles, and Eddie sneaks it into his pocket.

He goes to the fancier grocery store a town away and picks up everything he needs for what is basically a beef stroganoff with a ton of added vegetables: fancy carrots with the green tops, multicolored gemstones of tomatoes, the brightest and leafiest spinach, and heavy cream (which is way more expensive than He realized, holy shit). He even very bravely asks the butcher for the kind of beef he'll need. He very carefully follows the instructions and tastes everything along the way and makes Wayne eat a bowl as he's packing it into an old crockpot with a faulty wire that only works when you wrap it under everything just so. Wayne isn't a particularly verbose guy, but he's pretty excited about it, so Eddie loads it up into the van and drives across town and knocks on the door.

Steve yells at him to let himself in, and when he does he's already covered in flour or sugar and mixing Something up in a big mixing bowl. He eyes the crockpot suspiciously as Eddie plugs it in and jostles the cord just so to make sure it stays warm.

'What's this?' he asks, wiping his hands off on the towel on his shoulder and coming over to poke around.

'I brought dinner. Well. I made it. It's real food, not just sugar.' He's trying to tease, put on the usual kind of jab-voice. He's just a friend who made some food, it wasn't even really that fancy, but.

He's inexplicably so nervous, and he's worried this was the wrong thing to do, he stole something from Steve after all even if he brought it back and it's in his pocket right now, and sure they were friends and they *talk* but he knows he's talked a lot more than Steve has about all his drama and what if this was something that would upset him? What if Mary was like. A terrible ancient hag of a grandmother? What if Steve was allergic to the whole thing?

Steve gives him a confused little smile and lifts up the lid and it's like Eddie can watch his face change as he smells the noodles, rich and warm and creamy. Steve's just become the most wobbly and wet-looking thing he's ever seen (and the man fought actual demons in literal hell and carried his mostly-dead body back through, not to mention driving teenagers around all day just like for fun).

'Is this. Is this Jetson Casserole.' It's barely a question, like Steve knows already. 'This is like all I ate for dinner as a kid.'

Eddie feels his stomach flipping around, pulls the recipe card out of his pocket, says 'I really hope you don't mind, I just wanted to cook something for you.' But it's also more than that, he knows, Steve is always giving all of himself in these scones and cupcakes and fucking croissants like 'eat of my body and be whole' martyrdom, and it's like Eddie was compelled by spirits to make sure Steve knows that he's appreciated and cared for too, even if it comes in a shitty shorty crockpot and the sauce has probably totally broken.

Steve starts actually crying and Eddie has to pull him into a hug because What the Fuck is happening? Has no one ever made this idiot dinner before?

Later, he finds out, it was pretty much only Mary. And now Eddie.

He finds out Jetson Casserole got its name because little Stevie went through a phase where he wasn't really eating like a growing boy should but he sure did love the Jetsons.

'And this stuff,' Steve says, his mouth full and his eyes still red and puffy as he leans against the counter, 'lasts forever, and it freezes, and it reheats easy in the fancy microwave.'

It all makes a lot of sense, actually, Eddie thinks as he eats around the mushrooms and sits on the counter next to Steve, the one with the least amount of flour on the surface (but definitely still getting powder all over his jeans).

'I wanna fistfight your dad, Harrington.' It shocks a laugh out of Steve, but Eddie's kind of serious. 'Have you looked Mary up? I bet she'd love a dozen snickerdoodles.'

'You just want to eat the ugly ones again.'

'Only because you won't let me have the pretty ones!'

'We can make as many as you want. I think we're onto something. With the recipe.'

If Eddie thinks about it all again while he's putting leftover noodles into one of the fancy Tupperware containers (he grabs them from the top left cabinet, doesn't even have to ask anymore) he knows it's more than just about letting Steve know he's cared for in general because oh God he thinks he personally actually really cares for him like a lot, and he should NOT develop crushes on high school royalty anymore he should absolutely be over that.

But it's also like PAST high school, so maybe it doesn't count, and maybe Steve was throwing raw pizza dough at him for a solid twenty minutes earlier as he ran around the kitchen and it didn't at all feel like bullying.

Mary, it turns out, is only 68 years old now; she loves the snickerdoodles, is so proud when Eddie says Steve made the recipe (even though Steve blushes redder than anything and says he only modified an existing recipe actually), and finds the boys so charming. She's delighted that Steve has kept cooking, laughs at all of his misadventures in baking, and is ridiculously charmed by Eddie's dramatics.

She sends Steve and Eddie away with a little spiral bound recipe book, put together 'by the church' and 'full of good family recipes', and Jetson Casserole is right on page 9. Isn't that something.

She lives a little closer to Indy, these days, and she tells the boys over and over that they can visit anytime and they need to get out of that horseshit town, it's hell. She's got a spare room, and they can stay as long as they like if they don't mind sharing a bed.

[umichenginabroad]

Reflections from Madrid

Hi Everyone! Get ready for the final blog post… I won't say all the cliche stuff like "Madrid changed my life" or "I'm a new person" or that stuff. I just wrote down a couple of points I reflected on and will keep this as short as possible. Here we go, in no particular order:

Moving to a new place doesn't automatically make you grow as a person. I think people expect or see studying abroad as a 'fresh start.' But I was still the same person when I arrived in Madrid as I was two days ago in Seattle. You still have to put the work in to grow as a person, get outside your comfort zone, and expand your worldview. Because it's actually pretty easy to just stay within a bubble of UM and international students, speak only English, and be a tourist the whole time.

I wish I had known Spanish better before I came to Madrid. I still feel like a tourist a lot of the time when I can't speak Spanish well. I miss the banter I have with people in English, like strangers on the street, people in restaurants, or Uber drivers. Unfortunately, it's one thing I'm excited about when I go home.

Of all the people from around the world that I've met, South Americans and Africans are the most friendly and genuine. 

Being in an uncomfortable environment truly shows the authentic character of people. Everyone is happy in an environment they are comfortable in. You see someone's real personality when they are put in an uncomfortable environment. 

The study abroad experience is very romanticized, but the majority of what is portrayed is from very privileged individuals. For example, the non-white woman of color experience vastly differs from the white woman's study abroad experience (also recognizing my privilege as a light-skinned person). This dynamic isn't explored enough in detail before studying abroad or during, and I have had to seek out these conversations. Additionally, socioeconomic status layers on top of this conversation. We primarily see the perspective of studying abroad from people who have the means to pay and go abroad (and usually have the means to do other things than study, for example, travel to other countries). 

Everyone is on their own journey abroad. Some people have experienced culture before if they or their family grew up in a different country. Some people are experiencing culture for the first time in Spain. This difference in experience doesn't mean that one person's journey is better or worse than the other- just different. 

There's no big realization or moral to the story. I don't have a way to nicely tie these points into each other. It is what it is.

I'm still in Madrid for another 3 and half weeks, and going to spend it eating, sleeping, and being with good friends. I have loved living in Madrid but recognize that the next part of my life is starting in the US, centered around my job. I'm not even particularly mad about that because I realize this life of leisure is temporary and not conducive to my life and career. But I'm so thankful for everything I've learned here, the people I've met, and the ways I've grown as a person. Bye Madrid! I'll most definitely return at some later point in my life! To end my last post, here are some of my favorite photos from the past four months:

Rania Uppal

Computer Science

UP Comillas - Madrid Spain

[crimeronan]

the setup of high school in the US has many documented serious health effects on teenagers (like the whole sleep issue thing) BUT i think most people i know would not describe their experience as, uh.... literal sustained torture. and my specific high school actually was pretty okay! i remember having very good experiences with certain teachers & i was happy with the different classes that were offered. 

unfortunately i also had rapid cycling psychotic bipolar disorder. plus unmedicated ADHD

trying to sit still in a classroom and pay attention to a lecture while you’re so manic and sleep-deprived that you’re literally hallucinating scrawls of moving writing over your desk & hearing an out-of-tune radio that’s louder than your teacher’s voice..... Well. this is Perhaps. NOT conducive to learning

[selene-tempest]

How to care for your John Tracy

So, you want to get a John?

Before deciding that a John Tracy is the one for you, you must first realise that they take a lot of specialist care, time and attention that you must be willing to put in if you wish to get the best out of your John.

When taking on a John Tracy one must approach as you would a feral cat, making no sudden movements, do not attempt to touch or grab on first meeting. Allow him to size you up, get used to your presence and approach in his own time and at his own pace.

This could take minutes, hours, days, weeks or longer, there is no set time frame in getting a John to trust you, it varies from person to person. You must be prepared for setbacks and times when it might seem like an impossible task. They require regular reinforcement of their socialising, lots of praise and quiet support.

If you do not have the time, patience or love to devote to your John then we suggest you consider adopting a different breed of Tracy, they are many and varied. For a readily sociable one we suggest you try a Scott or a Gordon, both of which are friendly from the offset and easily tamed with the offer of food.

If a quieter Tracy is still needed but one that is less skittish than the John breed then maybe a Virgil is better suited to your situation. Or if you want one you can play with a lot, then an Alan would be perfect for you. A Tracy is a lifetime commitment so take your time in choosing the right one for you.

Personality traits:

If you do decided that the John is still for you then you will find that all the time and effort you put in is incredibly rewarding. Once you have proved yourself to a John you will find that it will go from a hissing, trembling, retreating ball of anxiety to a purring, snuggling pussy cat that is happy to cuddle for as long as you wish and is, in general, a pretty laid back, chilled addition to your life and household.

Contrary to popular belief a John Tracy is not an antisocial being, this is misinformation that has been circulated due to their quiet nature and contentment in their own company. A John Tracy is by nature actually an asocial introvert (see below pictures).

Once your John Tracy is used to you and has adapted to your ways he will be the most loving, wonderful, affectionate, caring, engaging, sweet, adorable, funny and friendly creature in the world. When he is allowed to do so on his terms in a way that makes him feel safe and secure, of course.

A John Tracy does not hate people or dislike interacting with them, he simply does not do well in crowds and social situations in which he is not prepared or comfortable. Then he may feel overwhelmed and react in a way that society sees as negatively, although for a John social anxiety is perfectly normal and acceptable and should be treated as such. A John is perfect as he is.

Your John Tracy requires a safe and secure place that he can retreat to when feeling overwhelmed or over stimulated, but on the whole, if allowed to come out of his shell and interact without being pushed, forced or tricked he will be perfectly content. John's need positive reinforcement, kind words and to be made to feel secure and loved from the start, this is the only way to bond with one.

A John Tracy is a devoted, loyal and loving creature that is known to mate for life, as do most other breeds of Tracy. A Tracy is a delightful companion that you will not be able to live without once you have one.

Unfortunately, many people will just not work out with a John Tracy, the very reason that so many varieties of this breed are left abandoned in space stations around earth's orbit.

Many see them as hard to socialise and grow impatient with their John, wanting him to act a certain way in a certain length of time, none of which is conducive to a happy and healthy John.

This is often seen as a fatal flaw in the John breed of Tracy, but many John enthusiasts insist that that is part of their attraction. The introverted tendencies of the John is in no way a flaw, it is part of what makes this particular breed of Tracy so special and so desirable to the right person.

John's make very good companions and they are well worth the additional effort that you will have to put in.

Feeding:

John's are not demanding in the food department and you will have to be prepared to offer food at regular intervals as they hardly ever seek it out for themselves.

Your John will try to exist on a diet of bagels and cheeseburgers but this is not good for them and, as much as they may protest or go on hunger strikes, you must continue to offer them a variety of options in your quest to ensure they eat enough to survive.

The same rules apply to keeping them hydrated, they will naturally gravitate towards coffee and occasionally water but they need to include fruit juices, herbal teas and the occasional meal replacement if they have been in a particularly stubborn mood, which they are regularly inclined to slip into.

Nothing is more stubborn than a Tracy breed and the John is one of the worst.

Exercising:

Your John will take care of itself in the exercise department although, once bonded to their person, a John will often try to entice you, or can be easily tempted itself, into playtime and physical activity.

When left to its own devices a John Tracy will spend many hours running, either outside in nature or indoors on an exercise ring. This helps to keep them healthy and fit for their jobs, for all Tracys are working creatures, all highly trained in their fields.

A John will also enjoy playing in water, such as swimming or diving and some extreme sports if it sparks his interest as John's are very athletic and flexible.

John's not only require physical exercise but mental agility training too. They have a very active, inquisitive and engaging brain and enjoy problem solving, organisation and stimulating intellectual conversations.

John's like to work with their hands and are very good with computers and AI's but be warned, they are also very good at hacking and you will have very little privacy with a John in your life.

Housing needs:

You John will require extensive housing to stay happy and content. He will require not only the run of your house with the ability to explore every single inch of your property but also his own specialist housing.

John's require a lot of space, both in the social way, the physical way and the outer space way. Do not deprive him of these essentials.

He will require access to both indoor and outdoor housing of the tropical island variety as well as his own space station.

Now this might seem excessive but it is a necessary part of having a John. John Tracys require extended periods of time in Zero-Gravity in order to both thrive but also stay calm and in control. John's like to feel weightless and to indulge whenever the urge takes them so you will have to be prepared to spend large amounts of time without your John in attendance.

John's prefer quieter surroundings to noise and will often take themselves off to hide if they are over stimulated and surrounded by other noisy Tracy breeds. You cannot stop this, it is part of the John's nature and you have to accept this if you wish to have one of your own. Attempting to force a John into socialising when he does not wish to is an unpleasant, cruel and unfair action and should never be undertaken if there is any other option.

John's also require a number of soft surfaces on which to stretch out, relax and be quiet. John's seem to require very little sleep and are very active both in body and mind for long periods before they crash out completely and need time to re energise themselves.

Appearance:

John's come in a variety of Ginger and Blond colours and are on the taller end of the Tracy spectrum. Long, lean and sleekly muscled the John is a beautiful specimen of Tracy breeding and very pleasing to look at.

Their hair is of the softest quality and, when a John is relaxed and content in your presence, they often enjoy it being stroked and petted, this pleases them and helps them to stay calm and sleepy.

John's have arguably the prettiest eyes of any Tracy breed, although lovers of the Scott, Virgil, Gordon or Alan breeds will beg to differ saying that blues and browns are nicer.

John's sometimes have a questionable dress sense when allowed to please themselves but their standard blue is figure forming and pleasing to behold.

Petting and affection:

John's can be extremely affectionate when they feel comfortable with someone. It just takes them a long time to get there.

John's do not like sudden movements or to be grabbed or forced into affection by someone they do not know well and are not already comfortable with. Unexpected affection from someone that is not one of their chosen people will cause them to freeze like a fainting goat and adopt the tactic of play dead until the threat goes away.

But when a John is comfortable it very much enjoys attention, affection and love.

As mentioned above, John's are an introverted breed of Tracy and allowances have to be made for them. They do not respond well to being forced out of their comfort zones or into interacting when they do not want to.

When a John wishes to interact they will be friendly, approachable and funny. They will happily join in with family activities and events but be aware that they may require additional quiet time after to recharge. This is just the way of the John.

Additional tips and information :

-Respect your John's boundaries. They will make it clear with body language if they are comfortable or not even if they do not verbalise it.

-John's are sensitive and they will respond with sarcasm when they feel threatened or attacked.

-John's cannot be forced into anything they don't want to do. They cannot be moved if they don't want to move. They cannot be tricked or cajoled, they are too smart, give up now.

-John's love their family more than anything and are fiercely protective of them. Never get in between a John and another Tracy breed. You will come off worse.

-John's have a death stare that might actually kill you. You have been warned.

-John's are generally very sensible, until it comes to a challenge between other Tracys, they are extremely competitive creatures and nothing will stop them.

-John's are logical and organised.

-John's do not respond well to blackmail, trickery, deception or engineered situations.

-A John is perfect as it is, never try to change it or force it to be something that it isn't.

-Being socially avoidant is only one part of his personality and it's only when you take the time to get to know him that you will see the rest.

All in all, we can highly recommend bringing a Tracy into your life, they are wonderful creatures and well worth your time and energy. Just think carefully before you choose a John as they require the most love, patience and attention.

(John pic curtesy of @misssquidtracy)

[translations-by-aiimee]

Dig a Grave to Dig Out a Ghost - Chapter 5

Original Title: 挖坟挖出鬼

Genres: Drama, Horror, Mystery, Supernatural, Yaoi

This translation is based on multiple MTLs and my own limited knowledge of Chinese characters. If I have made any egregious mistakes, please let me know.

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4

Chapter 5 - Expert

The subsequent calm was something Lin Yan wasn't expecting. The thing seemed to have decided it tortured him enough and nothing else happened the rest of the night. Lin Yan changed back into his clothes and unplugged his computer. Even though he knew that that probably wouldn't do anything, the screen actually powered off and didn't come back on at all in the night.

Perhaps a new storm was brewing in the silence, but Lin Yan was too exhausted to worry about it. The alcohol that was left in his system worked as a great tranquillizer, and he rolled over and fell asleep.

While he was deep in sleep, something cold pressed itself on his lips again, but Lin Yan was too much a heavy sleeper to realize it.

When he woke up, the entire room was clean. All the red paint had disappeared, the light gray printed wallpaper and the screen wall painted by the students of the Academy of Fine Arts were intact, and the glass was spotless. There was no other evidence to prove that the absurdity of last night had ever happened except for the shameful traces of liquid on Lin Yan's body and clothes. He took a bath and threw the red clothes into the washbowl. Compared with the power of the invisible thing, he was clearly at a disadvantage. Instead of running around without a plan, it was better to observe what happens as things unravel.

After he finished packing things up, Lin Yan took out his phone and texted Yin Zhou about the meeting place. Unexpectedly, he got a reply almost instantly: See you at the school gate in half an hour.

Lin Yan looked at himself in the mirror. Within just two nights, he looked like he had been doing drugs for years, he had a scruffy stubble growing, and his eyes were red. The mint scent of his shaving foam made Lin Yan feel for the first time that his typically monotonous life was actually so much more beautiful than that. The blade was thin and sharp. Just one long stroke across his neck and there would be nothing left.

Humans were such fragile creatures.

"Shit. . ." Lin Yan hissed, sighing at his unfortunate luck and put his fingers under the water. His hand had slipped and he sliced his fingertip on the blade, red blood seeping out. Lin Yan wrapped a bandaid around his finger, leaning against the wall and pondering about how unlucky it was to feel the pain.

He didn't know what kind of dye was used on the funeral clothes, but it had bled dramatically in the water. After a while, the whole basin of water had been dyed red. Lin Yan glanced at it in disgust as he left and slammed the door shut.

At 8 o'clock, Lin Yan saw Yin Zhou holding a Scallion pancake and some fruit in front of the school gate.

The two of them regretted trying to drive. The roads were clogged with morning rush hour traffic to the point that they couldn't even see the end of the lines of cars. What genius designed this kind of urban roundabout? Five ring roads surrounded the main road and they were forced to convene together every morning and night.

Lin Yan and Yin Zhou were nearing the third ring road and they still didn't have any temper, so all they could do was turn on the radio and eat the breakfast that Yin Zhou brought.

"A 13-year-old boy from a remote village in Sichuan was found hanged at home wearing a red coat. The locals suspected it was most likely cult-related. It is reported that the boy's time of birth and time of death are both extremely negative times and very suitable for. . ."

Lin Yan snapped the radio off.

It seemed that everything in the world had been messed up overnight. Even this kind of unreliable news could be relayed to the public.

Yin Zhou didn't care. He swallowed the last bite of his pancake and hiccuped. He said with satisfaction: "I spent the rest of the night in the library. I was starving and I couldn't buy anything. It's great to feel full."

"There was no exam recently, what were you doing at the library?"

"I was studying the enemy's intelligence. This enemy works in the dark. Can we defeat it if we understand how it operates? What do you think, buddy?"

Lin Yan turned his face to look at the crowded traffic outside the window. He stayed silent for a while before he said softly, "Do you really believe that there are ghosts in this world? I feel like something is wrong with me. Maybe I should see a psychiatrist first."

Yin Zhou's eyes widened in surprise: "Come on, even if something's up with you, I'm totally normal, yet we both saw those clothes yesterday."

". . . At your house the day before yesterday, I was the only one who thought it was cold, and I was the only one who could feel ‘it’ in the house."

Lin Yan sorted out his thoughts and told Yin Zhou his experience of being choked by someone last night.

Lin Yan wasn't expecting it but Yin Zhou exploded after hearing this, and blurted out: "Fuck, that ghost was a rabbit master* during his lifetime?" He scanned Lin Yan's face over and over again: "Little Brother Lin, don't tell me. . . you can be considered a nice-looking guy if you look closely. He's dead and maybe he's lonely and wants to recruit you as his wife."

*because they would kill the rabbit by snapping its neck

"Fuck you. If you aren't going to be serious, get out of my car and leave. Don't forget to burn two boxes of condoms for me when I croak." Lin Yan said quietly. The car behind him honked its horn twice, and Lin Yan realized that while he was talking, a 5-6 metre gap had cleared in front of him. He hurriedly followed the line of traffic.

"Furthermore, in the middle of the night, I obviously saw that the whole house was covered with red paint, but in the morning there was nothing. It was as if I had been dreaming."

Yin Zhou dragged the backpack out of the back seat and hugged it in his arms. He said, "Hey, let me show you the results of my brother's research." As he talked, he opened his bag and took out a dozen crumpled papers from it and spread them out on his knees. He flattened them with his hands and started going over them from top to bottom.

"You can't take care of shit. I feel uncomfortable just looking at those."

"See, the attributes of a wife. This ghost saw it perfectly."

A grass mud horse roared and ran across Lin Yan's heart.

Sure enough, these geeks are something else.

"Listen carefully." Yin Zhou pushed up his glasses with his long fingers: "There are generally two modern interpretations of ghosts. The first is due to the discovery of dark matter. You know the law of conservation of energy?"

". . . Go on." Lin Yan gave him a blank look.

"The universe expands at a certain rate every year. If the law of conservation of energy goes as normal, where does the energy that supports the expansion of the universe come from? According to this question, modern physics puts forward the concept of dark matter and dark energy. It does not generate electromagnetic waves, cannot be sensed, and cannot be measured. The law of gravity estimates that dark matter and energy account for 96% of the mass of the universe, and the remaining 4% is what humans can now recognize."

"Many unexplainable phenomena are therefore attributed to the results of dark matter, such as meridians in traditional Chinese medicine, the power of the mind, and ghosts. There are many discussions on this field abroad, but it is obviously blocked in China and difficult to find." Yin Zhou spread out his hands.

Lin Yan nodded. This was a bit like a science fiction novel he had read once.

"And the second one?"

"The second type is attributed to electromagnetic waves. The environment in which the deceased died is not conducive to electromagnetic wave attenuation. The powerful thoughts it had before death form a unique energy field. If a person's own frequency is similar to it, it will resonate when they come into contact. The waveform of the original ghost is greatly strengthened so then the two can sense each other."

Lin Yan was stunned: "You mean I. . . resonate with the ghost?"

Yin Zhou said indifferently that it was possible. He turned and smiled mysteriously: "Do you know how to explain love at first sight using electromagnetic fields?"

Lin Yan's heart stuttered.

"It's just resonating. It's the same with both men and women."

Yin Zhou sighed: "I don't want to fall in love for a while. It's boring, it's like a ghost."

The cars finally started moving again, and they finally got off the third road ring after being stuck for three hours. Lin Yan turned on the navigation and stepped on the accelerator to hurry towards the destination.

He always thinks that love was just like a ghost; he didn't believe in either. He only understood the panic and anxiety he felt when he encountered it, but he has never imagined that ghosts were also like love, triggered by a specific reason in a specific environment and dragged forcibly into the abyss, unable to escape.

"Have you been in touch with anything special recently, or have you been to anywhere special?"

Lin Yan thought about it for a moment and shook his head: "No. Every day I'm in the study room, tutor's office, library, home, cafeteria, there's nowhere else. But I have come into a lot of contact with lots of things from several dynasties."

Yin Zhou clumped the pile of information in his hand, and put it into back his backpack despite Lin Yan's contemptuous eyes, and clicked the buckle shut.

"Impossible. The electromagnetic waves would have decayed early in a small object, even if the Maoshan technique was used."

A thought suddenly flashed through Lin Yan's mind.

"There was this one place. . .Last month, my old man arranged an internship position for me on an archaeological team. It was a tomb with small specifications. I was there for less than a week."

Yin Zhou's eyes lit up all of a sudden: "There's this show, we should wait and check it. . . what the fuck!"

Lin Yan slammed on the brakes. Yin Zhou's head slammed into the windshield with a bang, and he wailed in pain.

"What are you doing?! Braking like that is going to kill you. What if we got rear-ended?!"

Lin Yan looked at the empty windshield in shock. He pulled the car over and, when he turned to Yin Zhou, his face changed.

"You. . . didn't see that just now?"

"What!" Yin Zhou took off the glasses that had been knocked off-kilter, trying to push them into their original spot, and couldn't help complaining in grief.

"There was a hand. . . stretching down from the roof of the car."

Yin Zhou was stunned and looked up at the window glass cautiously. A truck came up from behind, went around their car and drove on.

Lin Yan was too scared to speak for a while. He recalled the stiff white hand that had slapped on the windshield from the roof of the car just now, but it disappeared in a blink of an eye. There were speeding trucks or tankers everywhere on the sixth ring road. He opened his mouth and looked at Yin Zhou. The other party understood his thoughts immediately. Yin Zhou took a breath and hesitated: "Then this thing. . . it wants a human life."

Lin Yan shook his head. He always felt that there was some motive behind everything that had happened, but he couldn't say it out loud.

They drove out of the city in a blink of an eye. The endless rows of poplar trees and the green border fields in the suburbs relaxed the tension of the two people in the car a lot. Lin Yan rolled down the car window, and the car air mixed with the fragrance of flowers and plants that poured in. Inside the car, the stuffy scent of the pancakes was blown away.

After the twist and turns the GPS took them on, the car turned onto a rugged path paved with stones. The surrounding buildings were replaced with independent bungalows and small farmyards. A yellow dog squatted on the steps and stretched its neck. Some hens gathered in groups lazily together. Every now and again, they passed by a white goose on the side of the road. Lin Yan slowed down and stared at the map displayed on the GPS. He glanced at Yin Zhou distrustfully.

"If I keep going, I'll have to turn around to go back to the village. Did your mother send us to a reclusive expert?"

Yin Zhou leaned over to study the map, then turned his head in confusion and looked out the window. He happened to pass by a house, a yellow mud bungalow, with a faded couplet on the door. The old man in front of it only lost two front teeth, and he was leaning back to watch the excitement. . Yin Zhou scratched his scalp suspiciously: "The address my mother gave is at the end of the village, and she said it was amazing. Let me buy some tributes to bring with me. I can't do it alone."

So Lin Yan stopped the car when passing by the market, and bought two gifts according to Yin Zhou's suggestion. . . that bastard.

"Are you sure about all this?" Lin Yan looked embarrassedly left and right, carrying a live turtle in one hand and walking back, Yin Zhou happily pointed at the turtle's head and said, "What do you know? , These kinds of psychic masters rely on this stuff to keep up with their lifestyle. Trust me."

Lin Yan threw the two bastards into the trunk, took out a bottle of mineral water and handed it to Yin Zhou. He also opened a bottle for himself and took a few sips.

The country cicadas cried one after another, and the green wheat was headed; it was a wonderful scene of peace and prosperity.

Several children wearing red and green were squatting on the ground playing fan cards not far away. Lin Yan asked Yin Zhou: "What did your mother saw that name of the expert was? I'll ask around."

He couldn't help but imagine a scene of a bamboo hut with a mantle drooping in front of the porch. An old man in white with his hand stroked his beard and smiled slightly. He and Yin Zhou knelt forward on one knee, clasping their fists and begging, "Master, please guide me!"

Yin Zhou took a note from his pocket. He squinted at it, and said perplexedly: "Second Immortal Gu."

Before Lin Yan had enough time to swallow, all the water was spat back out.

"Ahem. . . is that so?"

In a small courtyard in the northeast corner of the village, Lin Yan and Yin Zhou found the legendary Second Immortal Gu’s house. When Lin Yan saw Second Immortal Gu's respectable face from outside the door, the regret in his heart was like torrential rapids. There was an enclave in an empty black room; he didn't know which god was being worshipped. An old woman in blue flower cloth sat cross-legged on the futon with her eyes closed and rests her mind. The red cloth strip that was tied to her forehead was quite imposing.

"This posture rivals some of the best dancers out there!" Yin Zhou pointed at the scene inside and couldn't help muttering softly.

"Come on, this is who your mother mentioned. Be respectful." Lin Yan said embarrassedly.

"What should we do?"

"Let's take a look first. Maybe the real person hasn't shown up."

Lin Yan and Yin Zhou walked through the door. Hearing the movement, the immortal woman lifted her eyelids slightly, and hummed from her nose aimlessly.

"Oh, ahem. . ." Yin Zhou couldn't hold back his grin and quickly concealed it with a cough.

What happened later was a farce. After receiving the turtle and two hundred yuan brought by Lin Yan, the woman suddenly became energetic. She worshipped the gods with incense and poured a bowl of clear water on Lin Yan while muttering words. After turning around Lin Yan more than ten times, she finally opened his eyes sharply. Lin Yan was so frightened by her that his body was shocked. The only thing she did was shout: "Aha! I saw it!"

"There is a little girl standing behind you!"

Lin Yan and Yin Zhou looked at each other, each holding their breaths.

"Oh, this baby girl died terribly. She said that she was locked up and could not be born. She didn't have money to buy clothes, and she didn't have money to pay her way through death. That's why she's gotten involved with you. . ."

"Wait, I'll ask her how to resolve this. . ."

The immortal woman closed her eyes and began to sing. Lin Yan pointed at the door to Yin Zhou and said: "Do you need someone to grease your feet, what are you waiting for?"

After reciting a long list of words, she opened her eyes and saw that there were no longer two other people in the room.

The immortal woman had no choice but to touch the newly collected two hundred yuan and shook her head, muttering that the young people nowadays are really impatient. Then she staggered around to pack her things up.

When she picked up the bastard turtle, she couldn't help but give a long sigh.

[allsassnoclass]

i hate that i didn't say hi in that last request. HI hazel what do you think about!! "MY MOM KNITTED YOU A JUMPER" for malum? that sounds like the malum i love!! love u <3

hello hello hello here you go!

Ficmas Day 4

Rating: General Audiences

Read on AO3

Christmas in London is very different from Christmas in Australia.  For one thing, there’s snow on the ground.  It’s not much, tramped over by boots and mixed with the dirt to create sludge along the streets, but it’s still present on the ground.  For another thing, it’s cold.  Australian temperatures can dip down in winter, but by December it’s warm again, summer sun heating skin from the moment you step outside.  It’s strange to be at the end of December and have to put on a coat outside.  It’s also a little colder than Australia ever gets, and Michael finds himself seeking out blankets inside the house and shoving beanies over his hair before he sets foot outside.

It’s also different because Liz is the only parent around.  All of them had to barter extensively with their parents to convince them to even let them come to London, and once they realized they probably wouldn’t have Christmas together it prompted a new flurry of discussions about the exact timeline of the move.  In the end, professional interest won out over familial traditions, and Michael isn’t upset about heading to London early, but he’s careful not to mention the ache of loneliness in his stomach when he calls home.

He’s not really lonely.  He has Calum, Luke, and Ashton, and Liz ensures that they all eat actual meals and get enough sleep and always have someone to turn to when they need a motherly hug.  They have a little fake tree with some lights and generic ornaments on it, and Liz has been snatching packages as soon as the post delivers them, shifty about the contents inside.  Michael isn’t worried about gifts, because being in London is his Christmas present, and it’s kind of nice to get the full Northern-Hemisphere-Winter-Experience shown in all of the movies.

It would be worse if he didn’t have Calum.  It would be worse if he didn’t have all of them, but Calum has always felt like home in a way that few other people ever will.  He’s been Michael’s best friend through thick and through thin, and he’s the one who brought Luke into their life and who’s agreement to do the band kick-started their process.  Michael can always count on him to cheer him up on bad days and share his happiness on good ones, and living in London is a lot like an extension of the sleepovers they’ve been having since before they hit double-digits.  The biggest difference is that they’re in separate beds rather than piled sleeping bags on the floor.

On Christmas Eve, Michael wakes up late and spends a long time laying in his bed, debating whether he should bother getting up or let himself melt into his mattress.  Luke and Liz had plans for the day that they had suggested dragging everyone else along for, but Luke’s bed is empty and Michael can’t hear other activity in the house, so they probably left already.  Michael doesn’t mind.  He’s been tramping around London a lot lately, and a day to recharge is fine with him.

When his stomach finally growls, he heaves himself out of bed, throwing back the covers and shivering at the change in air temperature.  He needs socks.  He needs long sleeves.  It's winter in England, and that is not conducive to getting out of bed right now.

He manages to find socks that smell clean and a t-shirt that seems passable.  Hunger pushes him towards the kitchen before an acceptable hoodie can be found, but he can always sneak into the other room and steal one of Calum's.  Calum's hoodies tend to be some of the most comfortable, and he guards them carefully.  He always lets Michael keep it on if he's caught wearing one, though, which is more than can be said for the other two.

Calum enters the kitchen once Michael's toast pops.  Michael has an irrational fear that the toaster popping will startle him bad enough to bite the tip of his tongue off, so he's partially thankful that Calum makes his appearance then and distracts him, even if his presence startles him more than the toast ever could.

"I didn't know you were home," he says in answer to Calum's raised eyebrows.

"Liz took Luke and Ashton.  They'll be gone all day."

"Doing what?"

Calum shrugs.  "I think Liz is still getting presents for the family to send for New Years and wanted Luke to help.  Ashton just likes being out of the house."

Ashton is probably trying to find gifts for his own family.  Michael already sent some kitschy souvenirs for his parents, although they haven’t reached Australia yet.  He'll get them something better later, when he actually figures out what they would appreciate.

"Toast?" he offers.

"I'm making noodles," Calum says.

"Can I have some?"

"Yeah, okay."

Michael hums and slumps against him.  Everyone should have a Calum in their lives.  He's a space heater and a chef and a great bassist rolled into one, and he's pretty low maintenance.  Michael only has to give him undying love to get all of the perks.

They keep a comfortable silence while Calum cooks and Michael eats, enjoying existing together rather than filling the air with mindless chit chat.  Michael takes a shower when he finishes his toast, and Calum has the noodles ready when he's done.  After lunch, they migrate to the living room, taking advantage of the empty house to finally play Fifa uninterrupted.  Calum wins more than Michael, but he's not mad about it however much he pretends to be.  Calum is often humble to a fault, so Michael is happy to let him rub these victories in his face.

Calum goes to check the mail while Michael gets more snacks.  He comes back with two packages, one that he distractedly puts on the couch and another that he looks at curiously.  It's bigger than a shoe box, taped together securely over some colorful paper.

"What's that?" Michael asks.

"From my mum," Calum says.  "Your mum sent Liz something."

"What?  What is it?"

"I don't know," Calum says.  "It's a crime to open someone else's mail."

"But it's from my mum."

"Maybe she and Liz gossip about you.  If it's meant for you, you'll get it tomorrow."

Michael pouts.  Calum is, unfortunately, very resistant to his pouting.  He also takes the package and makes Michael put it in Liz's room before Michael can get too curious and start shaking it.  He could still peak, but then he'd have to contend with Calum's disappointed face.  That's not something anyone should have to face on Christmas Eve.

"Michael!" Calum calls from the living room.  "Get out here!"

"Why?"

"Mum sent you something!"

Michael leaves the package on Liz's bed and tramps back to the living room.  Calum grins and holds up a dark blue sweater with two white stripes stretching around it.

"My mum knit you a jumper!"

"For me?" he asks.  Calum nods enthusiastically.

"Put it on," Calum says.  "She wants a picture."

He holds out the jumper, letting Michael slip his hands in the arms and helping him pull it over his head.  It's a little big, spacious and comfortable, and the yarn is soft.  Michael doesn't know the difference between any of the stitches, but they're fun and feel fancy.

"She said she made it big so we can grow into them."

Calum pulls another jumper out, just like Michael's except in green.  When he puts it on, Michael resists the urge to help fix his hair, unruly from the static.

"I can't believe your mum knit me a jumper," Michael says.

"She's going to do one for Luke and Ashton, too, but she wanted to get yours done quickly.  She said you're an ice cube in our winters, so she was worried about how you were handling this one."

Michael feels a rush of affection for Joy Hood.  The entire Hood family is his favorite family besides his own, even without considering the fact that Calum is his favorite person.

Calum snaps a selfie, tilting his phone so they both fit in frame.  Michael presses close, faces centimeters away, and ensures that his grin is bright and happy, trying to push as much gratitude into one picture as possible.  Calum doesn’t step away while he sends it and Michael once again leans against him.

“Tell her I love it,” he says, looping his arms around Calum’s waist.  He slips his hands under the hem of Calum’s shirt and presses them against his stomach, making him squirm and swear.

“Get your icicle hands off me!” he laughs, but Michael has a grip now and doesn’t let him go until they’re tumbling onto the couch in a tangled, giggly mess.

“Still want to play another round?” Calum asks once he catches his breath.  Michael considers it, but he can’t properly cuddle with Calum if he has to hold a game controller, so he shakes his head.

“Movie?” he suggests instead.  Calum shrugs and grabs the remote, shutting down the game and switching the input so they can browse through Netflix.  Michael stretches out and Calum fits himself against him, pulling a blanket from the back of the couch to cover their legs.  It’ll probably get too warm about thirty minutes into whatever they decide to watch, but for now it’s perfect.  Michael tucks himself lower into his sweater and pulls Calum closer to him, savoring every piece of warmth he can get.

[howlingmoonrise]

Thoughts on Petshop of Horrors: Wandering Ark volumes 1 & 2

(also on dreamwidth)

HOW did I manage to miss the translation of my long-awaited Papa D PSOH series?? I've been stalking it ever since I found the announcement and somehow the fact that @ruthlessnightsscans​ already put out the first two volumes completely went past my head.

Obviously I had to read it right away, sleep be damned.

this is the edited version of my brain thoughts after i managed to get two sleeps and calm down a bit or it would be a lot more incoherent

The art: the initial pages really remind me of the old art! Unfortunately it goes back to the roundness prevalent since the Shin series (which has only become even rounder with time) not long after. That art style is also a lot less dynamic than the original, I find. It's a bit of a problem on scenes that are supposed to have some tension caused by movement. This is nothing new since, like I said, Sensei has been using this art style since a good while ago. I really miss the original art though. It had a major nostalgia punch to it and a lot more feeling as well.

-- First chapter: "I am on a journey with no destination in mind" just say you're on vacation and go off I guess. 

Papa is... weirdly easy-going. I want to say it's because he's not yet mad with grief and his son being taken away and so on, but the glimpses we saw at his time in university definitely didn't paint him this soft. There's no edge to him, on this volume or the next. 

Regarding the story itself, I can't say I loved it but it’s not the worst out of all of them (there are four in total between these two volumes, and a third volume is on the way). I liked Koushun's character, but Seiyou annoyed me, especially when he presumed to know what she wanted (or perhaps he didn't presume, but decided for her what was better anyway) - something like I Shall Revive This Species So Breed In My Name Okay Bye. Note also that while Koushun was willing enough to marry (thinking she was marrying someone else but that's another point entirely), the groom himself came in chains. And then Seiyou... locks them in together? Great. Just great. Very conducive to a loving mood indeed, locking a woman with a potentially dangerous stranger who might cause her harm and telling them both to fuck (note. the. chains. you don’t put chains on someone you think is harmless; they never put any on Koushun even when she attacked Seiyou). I was afraid for her when it cut to another scene here, with the last we saw of her being pushed against a wall and being told by the groom that it seemed that he would have to make a child with her. "Rather than hate each other, I want to break that curse"? Seiyou, sweetie, that is NOT the way to make them not hate you. ((The reveal that Koushou is some sort of creature - very PSOH-y - does not help, since putting two wild animals together without them being used to each other is perhaps even more likely to them killing/harming one another.))

MAJOR little mermaid vibes on Koushun standing over a sleeping Seiyou with a knife. 

There are quite some parallels with the D species on this tale of bloodshed and revenge. The Ds could stand to learn from this, though historically they don't. "Even if you kill the third prince, the Kagetsu people are already gone. They won't return." Papa himself says that 'winning on the last available tile' is a waste of time, which really resonates with his research into reviving lost species and the issues of his own kind. A reference to the health of descendants when no new blood is introduced is also made here, which might or might not point to our D depending on where in time this Papa is from.

--

Second chapter: it's... frankly, super choppy. The story is all over the place. On the author's note, Akino herself says that it's a challenge to put the whole life of that empress in 57 pages, and I have to agree. Either it should have been cut to the REALLY relevant parts and worked on them some more, or be discarded in its entirety. It's too rushed. The whole first part was unnecessary: it could have started with her already working at the palace or being chosen as a concubine, and then made references to her previous life in her thoughts instead of wasting several pages on it when that backstory won't be going anywhere (except for some references to Hakubun whom she sees on that other actor - who dies like, two or three pages later, so that's that on that). I do like Ranji herself as a character: she's clever and quick to pick up on things. Her life is just a series of tragedies one after the other, unfortunately. 

Papa D is some sort of benevolent helper in this chapter for some reason - this pattern repeats somewhat on the next chapters, but on this one there isn't really anything to gain for him at all, other than perhaps his dubious acquaintance with one of the concubines/future empress, which wouldn't really hold much weight since he met her ?once? apart from near her death.

And then, somehow, the initial Papa D in this chapter was actually Sofu?

Sofu???? I'm calling bullshit. As far as we know - going back to Sofu's own series and flashbacks on the original PSOH, even - Sofu never had a hairstyle of that length, and out of our three known Ds (new!D excluded) he's the one least likely to help a human just because. The ark is also said to travel through space and time, so I'm saying that's Papa D and that's it. Fun aside: on this chapter, Papa says he's the "third generation", meaning that on this series he's probably the youngest existing D (and by inference our D does not exist yet).

Also, some issues with in-story continuity here: when the last emperor dies Ranji still looks fairly young and the emperor-to-be is three years old, a couple pages later she looks a lot more aged but the new emperor is still three years old. To be honest, I think the story would have been tied off much better if A-chan had some connection with Hakubun or the eunuch instead of each having their very brief, individual emotional connections to her - which, in turn, doesn't really make them memorable. The "wishes" thing was interesting, really called back to the old PSOH tradition with the mystical pets and bittersweet be-careful-what-you-wish-for endings.

--

Third chapter: I think, overall, this was probably the one I liked the best. Can't really bring myself to call it my favourite though, since none of them even begin to compare to the original PSOH chapters. I cackled at the "jawline is too sharp" dialogues and thoughts: with this art style EVERYONE has the same round jaw as every other character, and it's the furthest thing from "sharp" possible.

With this series it really seems like Sensei is giving more focus to trying to tell historically-accurate stories rather than focusing on the stories themselves, as there is a huge amount of superfluous historical information to be found in these volumes. 

The empress Elizabeth reminds me of Sofu, in truth. She won't "mind" affairs and the like (read: she will hate it but ignore them) as long as it works towards her ends. Her taking away the newly-born child is a huge parallel to Sofu regarding both Papa and D, and D and new!D. Child-snatching FTW! That being said, I actually kind of liked her, ruthless as she was: the whole reason why Sophie made it as far as crown princess was because Elizabeth valued her hard work. You don't get to hold an empire together without having a steel spine and a cunning mind (or people to do the work for you I guess, but here it doesn’t seem to be the case).

I hate that Sophie had to change even her name and religion to fit her new reality, accurate as it is to history. That sort of thing always messes me up (throwback to the Nazi/teddy bear chapter of the original PSOH series, where there was also a name/religion change for the sake of survival). Not a reflection on the author in any way, I just hate that this is something people had to go through. As something I hated that kinda does reflect on the author, though, was the ugly = terrible association with Pyotr and the maid. Sophie/Catherine is initially said to not be beautiful but she's not depicted in the same way those two are at all. 

Papa's benevolence is thankfully offset this chapter by the fact that he does have something to gain here. For some reason Ds doing things merely for the goodness of their hearts kind of rubs me the wrong way unless it's D during or post-Leon. 

Most PSOH victims clients: oh a pretty person! WHAT DO YOU MEAN IT'S AN ANIMAL Sophie/Catherine: a dog you say? sounds kinda hot ngl

Gotta respect how she just jumps straight into the dog affairs. The take-back of the empire was also nicely executed, and I'm always here for ladies in traditionally male clothing. 

--

Fourth chapter:

This is linked semi-directly to the third chapter by virtue of the amber room Papa D craved. Marks also the second time that Papa takes a human on board of the ark.

D, circa end of original PSOH, a single tear rolling down his cheek as he watches Leon plummet towards the earth: Humans have not earned the right to board this ark. Papa D: I'm gonna go for a joyride and take along this human and this human and this human and this human and--

Papa really gives Doctor Who vibes on the ark matter. Travelling through space and time, occasionally taking human companions? The one for this chapter - who I'm guessing might be a cameo from one of Sensei's other series, since I didn't recognize him and there was no backstory for him on the chapter - even has era-appropriate wardrobe changes (at least assuming it's the same person and not just someone who looks similar scratch that they have eyes of different colours so I guess Papa has been giving rides to delivery men now), the second of which leaving me very ??? as to WHEN he is from. 

That last Look(TM) reminds me a of Leon Orcot, between the long ponytail and the clothes resembling the ones Leon wore on the last chapter of Shin PSOH (in PSOH time, that would have happened approximately 15 years after the end of the original series, meaning that Papa was already long dead then. Unless Leon's style was just stuck in time, which is also very possible). 

It might or might not have endeared him to me for that exact reason. What can I say? I'm a sucker for Leon Orcot, and apparently also for characters that visually remind me of him. ANYWAY.

Why another Nazi-era chapter??? Sensei plz. One was already enough on the original PSOH - it wasn't anywhere near my favourites back then, either - and the fact that this one mostly followed a Nazi colonel didn't help either. Here we witness them tearing down the amber room, "reclaiming" art from all over the world, a father's heartbreaking sacrifice to “save” his daughter’s dog, and Papa D coming to meet the Nazi dude. One would expect the Ds to avoid genocidal racists given the fate of their own species, but apparently the Nazis were relevant enough for not one but TWO Ds to interact with them. Oh well. Either way, I really don't like how Papa appears to not care one way or another - when the D for the original series interacted with people he didn't like, his mask was really fairly obvious (at least for the reader). Perhaps Papa simply has a better mask. Perhaps those nuances were lost to time and round art styles. Perhaps Papa or Sensei just don't give two shits. Guess we'll never know.

EVERYONE seems to comment on the flavour of Papa's tea: it's 4 out of 4 so far for these two volumes, and in this chapter in particular it seems as if it's laced with some kind of truth serum - it seems to be Papa's version of D's (and possibly Sofu's?) incense from the original PSOH. A reference to the original PSOH's Nazi chapter is also made here, with Papa mentioning that Sofu was on friendly terms with Eva Braun: this implicates that in this time they were in closer contact (not surprising since Sofu probably hasn't stolen his still-non-existent kid yet).

The colonel seems to value art over human life - surprise surprise! - so he kills his own comrades to keep the art "safe". A stomach-turning moment comes where they find human golden teeth being kept as treasure, which Papa mentions remelting to turn into golden nuggets. Why, Papa/Sensei, why? It's in poor taste, even if you're testing the colonel the way D did with some of his clients on original PSOH.

At the very least an eerie moment comes next where Papa explains that dead creatures can be revived using DNA. "Even dead people?" Cue Papa's all-seeing stare directly into the reader's eyes (and presumably the colonel's as well) with a backdrop of an inverted black-and-white multitude of graves as he says that future is not very far. Colonel almost shits his pants, with reason when you consider the amount of people the Nazis killed off that would presumably come after them. This almost forgives the teeth comment, and it's probably the first moment in these two volumes when we see some genuine emotion on Papa's face (on this page and the next), creepy and maniac as it might be.

Colonel dude has spent the whole chapter justifying everything under "orders of the fuhrer" so far. Then comes the moment that Papa calls him out by saying that the orders were to burn his sweet dear art so that it wouldn't fall into enemy's hands, and it's here that we see how much of an hypocrite the colonel is when he doesn't want to follow those orders. Suddenly it's "treasures of mankind" (even though he's been stealing them left and right) and the fuhrer is "a fool" (even though he's been using his orders and his "greatness" as justification for everything). 

Suddenly, Papa's companion! Who the heck is that! Shoots him! This is someone whose family was killed by the colonel (directly or under his orders) or so he says; he's gripping a piece of art we don't get to see, which is presumably the reason for those deaths. Now in the future! A guy who looks a bit like that other man who shot the colonel, but who I'm not 100% sure if it is or is not the same person because the round art style makes everyone look alike Someone who is definitely not the same guy because his eye colour is different (and who's dressed in a sporty outfit with a long ponytail, which I've mentioned kinda reminds me of Leon) looks for the amber in the place the art was stored, alongside Papa. He flies on the ark (all these humans on the ark, Sofu would have a conniption!) and reminds me of Leon once more while being shouty and holding on to the main mast for dear life.

The sacrificial father mini-plot also gets resolved with the dog returning (but not the father himself) along with a picture with that family. Which is presumably the picture the other dude who shot the colonel was holding, which begs the question: how is he related to them? He doesn't look like any of them, but he did say the colonel killed his family while (presumably) holding that same picture, so hmmm. Maybe he's the dog, colour-scheme aside? But apart from the father, the rest of the family seems to have survived, so it's kind of a strange thing to say since that sort of wording usually means more than one person. Even if he is the dog (my money is on that option), it's not exactly obvious to a reader who's not looking very closely. Some loose ends there, or at least ends that don't really look like they're tied together at all.

"No matter how long winter is, spring will come." Fairly hopeful final words there, Papa D. These echo similar ones spoken by D at the end of Shin PSOH, after running from Leon once more ("someday, the season for returning will come"): perhaps both these Ds are not as pessimistic as to their future, at least at this point? Poor Papa definitely had a change of heart between his series and the ending of original PSOH, unfortunately.

--

General thoughts: Sensei hasn't quite managed to replicate the feeling of the original PSOH just yet. The storytelling feels a bit shallow and rushed, though the pacing improved from the first volume to the second. There's also very little focus on Papa himself for some reason: he's more of a background character on his own series except for the fourth chapter, which is a very strange narrative choice. In part this might also be because he doesn’t have a permanent companion to discuss/argue with like in previous iterations of the PSOH series. I wonder if the third volume will continue on this trend? I wish it’d delve a bit more into Papa, but either way it’s still nice to get some more PSOH content.

I've heard Vesca will make an appearance next volume, I'm so excited!! Out of Shin PSOH, my favourite chapters were Leon's (surprise surprise!) and the ones with Papa and Vesca on their university days. Papa definitely seemed a lot sharper there, which I miss here - I feel like Sensei has been smoothing out all their edges like with the art style lmao, and in turn it makes them feel a bit lacking since the Ds are not meant to be bland and forgiving and easy-going, at least as per their original portrayal. I've also seen sneak-peaks of Leon and D from author notes of the next volume so I can't wait at the chance to weep at the slightest panel of my son Leon.

A final shoutout to RNS for continuing the PSOH translations! I really can't thank them enough!!

[qtsp00k]

I heard from a friend and they said that they were trying to find a corned beef and cabbage meal to bring over to my place so we could have traditional Irish feast together and I was like oh my gosh I was just going to go to Conroy's by myself so if you want to go with me to Conroy's we can go out to eat if you're up to it cuz I'm up for it feeling great aside from my headache which is technologically induced so as long as I avoid technology I will continue to be feeling relatively well right right.

And so we headed to Conroy's but we got to Conroy's and they popped in and found out that it would be an hour and a half wait and they were like dude I'm just like calling Nub's pub and seeing what the weight is there like we can wait here but if Nub's pub is doing traditional feast and the wait time is shorter would you be okay not going to Conroy's and I was like dude my heart is not set on Conroy's it was just where I was trying to make plans with other people that fell through so I was just going to go by myself after all the plans fell through but calling Nub's pub they had a 20 minute wait which is exactly how long it took us to get there so we get in the door and our table is ready and I had a root beer and they had a Guinness and we feasted and it was delicious like really really good good corned beef and cabbage meal and sadly Alaska and I was like prepared to eat Irish soda bread with raisins in it which is a common preparation which I never do with my father never did I don't think I've ever eaten Irish soda bread with raisins in it in my life actually but I digress there was no Irish soda bread and so for dessert we split a creme brulee which I took like two bites of before I was like this is making me sick already and they were like yeah it's making me sick too and then proceeded to Wolf it down.

dinner conversation was delightful and my now intoxicated from one Guinness friend was much fun so we popped over to Walmart and hung out at Walmart looking at toys and clothes and I was like where's the St Patrick's Day clearance and we immediately turned the corner and there's just like a rack just a loose rack on Wheels just like hanging out just the road there and it was like well asking you shall receive and on that rack was like plenty of shirts but I have I think six St Patrick's Day shirts which is all I will need for the rest of my life I'm pretty sure because one of them is pizza I believe one of them is a tuxedo tea which I live for tuxedo tease I have several of them and I love them dearly and one of them is a luck o meter like if I was an Irish robot like oh man that one's really good and then I have the one I was wearing which is from 6th grade and I have the shirt from when well from one of the years my dad was almost always in our local Saint Patrick's Day parade and I have one of the first years that I remember seeing my dad on the float wearing that shirt I have that shirt and I'm about to cry just talking about it and I didn't find it I really wanted to wear it but I didn't find it and there's no way that it's like that it was lost or I don't have it it just has not been located since the move.

So even though there were some nice shirts I was most excited about the green leopard print leggings that have shamrocks like stealthy incorporated into the pattern OMG I cannot believe what I'm seeing unfortunately the only size options available were extra large or even bigger and I am nowhere near an extra large like I just told you I wear child shorts so I now have a pair of St Patrick's Day leggings that are super soft and comfy like those nice Walmart leggings you know like the only other pair of nice Walmart leggings that I have like this are my black and white Halloween bat pattern and the like sweater pattern Halloween that's traditional like purple orange green black white like skulls and whatever but I actually thrifted in like brand new condition and was really funny because I was trying to decide between that pair and the black and white batty very cartoon simplistic design like I would totally design those legs like I would be capable of like drawing all of those things on those leggings and slapping them on there and pushing them out into the world you know and I guess that's ultimately why I settled on that legging but it was really hard for me to decide between the other ones so when a couple of years later I came across them practically brand new at a thrift store it was like oh the heavens have smiled upon me.

I know one that have been funny if I had made the other choice and then come across the leggings that I owned and in fact could even be wearing them as I stand in a thrift store because what I do when I go to a thrift store is where the tightest clothing that I can so I can try on everything right there in the aisle which usually just entails a tight tank top and leggings.

Since we were at Walmart and I need a phone and I had money for a phone I decided to get a phone and this is a very interesting story because I talked to you several employees of several stores electronics areas to try to determine which phone I needed and I have also Google searched and ask people and try to figure out what phone I can get that will just go off Wi-Fi and we'll just play animal crossing pocket and I thought that you know I had found that and I got the phone I get it home and it turns out it's like one of the only phone that is not compatible with animal crossing pocket camp and dude dude dude mother-effing dude how we know this is my friend just like popped on to Google and the first time they ever search for this information this information that I've been trying to obtain ever since pocket camp updated to the freaking AR camera thing which knocked me out of the game it's just a list of all the phones that are compatible like like they just put in the exact right like set of words and I think that like one of the reasons that this friend gets so frustrated with me not being able to find stuff on the internet is that they don't come from an English speaking household and like somehow like that is really conducive to Google searching it is like so weird that like I'm like dude I looked for it and then they're like you're just an idiot like here it is dumb dumb and just like a list of it so I now have that list and it's not a big deal like I freaking just like collapsed when I got home and like could not get animal crossing on my phone but not a big deal I'm just going to go back to Walmart and exchange the phone for one that will work now that I have that list so that's really cool.

So really like again like synchro thing that happened is that while I was getting that phone I got a text from one of my best friends and it turns out that they are legit like contacting me to consult me about whether or not they should purchase animal crossing for the switch and like what so like after I go through this whole like oh no and then the acceptance and like it's not a big deal of my animal crossing kind of debacle on St Patrick's Day I get to talk about animal crossing for the switch and it's still all of its virtues and like I really could not think of any negative thing to say about it. And they are like oh my goodness spending $60 on a video game Mindy I don't know about this and and I'm like I really feel like it's worth it but here's what you can do to get an idea of what the vibe is like the aesthetic of playing like a very cartoony and like the interactions and just how chill it is if your phone is compatible just download the free Pocket camp one and if you like that then you will absolutely love the switch version and being able to play both of them is like heaven on Earth and that's where I'm going I'm going to heaven on Earth because as soon as I'm able I'm going to go get a phone and I'm going to be able to play Pocket camp so the next time I have a day where I cannot move any muscle in the right side of my body I cannot get up from my seat and in fact just urinating myself and my adult diaper all day in excruciating pain I will be able to play animal crossing Park camp with my left hand and only my left hand and it'll never give me a headache unlike the version on the switch does whether it's handheld or on a big TV so like I'm just like over the moon about absolutely everything and even though the day started off really rough St Patrick's Day with none of my blood family and my dad and my brother and my mom and like everything just like like that aching and that family trauma that like hasn't been cleared yet the day ended on like the highest note connecting with one of my favorite people to end my day with honestly so it was just amazing and I what did I do oh yeah I put on leprechaun 5 and I put a green filter on my TV and I tried to watch The matrix but like it kicked me back out of the app as soon as Trinity got kicked and had not gotten back up yet yeah that happened that seriously happened like that thing that I say to myself like to encourage myself through life ever since seeing that movie get up get up Trinity get up get up Trinity yeah movie gone before we even got to that line I was just aight we just rollin wif it.

right now I honestly don't even remember what I put on to fall asleep to at all which just tells you how fast I fell asleep after my head hit the pillow and my cat curled up in my arms.

No sleeping no portendum actually even and yep I slept great and I woke up today and I feel pretty great I mean I'll have to take it easy pain is a little problematic I had quite an outing yesterday but possibly because it's early enough I could I could get a second win and and be able to go get my animal crossing phone.

So that's awesome.

the level of socialization that I'm doing is like exhausting and like it's a lot but I really love it and I've never had so many friends in my life there's like maybe like seven or eight people that I want to connect with every day and that like every time I'm doing anything you know like yesterday like I want all of them right there and I don't know how to make that happen but I promise you I promise you all I'm going to get on discord I'm going to figure that out my understanding is that we can then like watch stuff together or like you can tune in to like me watching stuff or something I don't know but it's going to be more interaction with me than what you've had and I'm very happy for you of course because I know how much you love me and I know how much you miss me and I wish that I was not such a debilitatingly disabled person that I could you know be like a shining YouTube star celebrity interaction like I'm not able to juggle all of that but I love the attention I love your love and even though it it's an overwhelming amount of appreciation I am not upset about it at all and the stress that I feel of producing content and interacting with my fan base like it's a pressure that I welcome in my life because it's a motivating factor to be social and you know for my personal self is why I put my entire life online or on paper.

I don't know if you know this but for whatever reason like probably as a result of my traumatic brain injury combined with being erroneously mistakenly over medicated with antipsychotics when I was wrongfully institutionalized I kind of just like forget everything recent that happened like once I go to sleep the day before is just like almost completely gone like an edge of sketch erasing.

And that's why I document everything that goes on in my life for myself and and that's how I'm able to be even in your lives because I'm doing it for myself and my story and my life just exist as this inspiration and this motivation and this light in all of your lives the enriches me AND you so yo I've been online doing this sharing my life 100%. No such thing as TMI N D whY??!

because you need the full story of the highs and the lows and of My darkest hours and of the moments where I feel cradled in the loving arms of creation and in our intelligent creator in order to properly appreciate my story.

Instagram has been fun but as you may you're not know Instagram is something that I created solely for myself and it is entirely curated to be all of those moments where life is worth living so that when I feel like life is not worth living and become terribly suicidal because again I experience untold pain chronic debilitating disability and emotional suffering like you would not believe I can go to my Instagram scroll for like 30 seconds and then see that how I feel in the moment that that there's only darkness is not the reality and and that if I just hang in there through that darkness I'll come out of it and I'll be bouncing around on Instagram in no time soon.

those of you who know me from there like there's very little mention of any hardship in my life and that's why and it is not that I ever was trying to conceal that from you or that I ever stop my full disclosure intention that I've been here on the internet doing since 2005 and really really doing since 2008-2009 detailing the journey of my chronic invisible illness issues with chronic lyme disease traumatic brain injury endometriosis schizophrenic symptoms bipolar diagnosis borderline personality disorder diagnosis you know like the whole enchilada the whole enchilada has been here since 2009 solid.

So I'm not sure how I should go about like separating my Tumblr or tagging it really like I just want to figure out how to tag it so that I can pull up all the good stuff and all the bad stuff and kind of keep them separate but I mean that's kind of the thing of tumblers that I don't have to like do that and as long as I do decent tagging so that I can find what I'm looking for and and you can find what you're looking for then I've done my job.

I love you also much and I don't remember exactly what my follower count was on my ladyluvlee account before it was hacked & deleted(close to 5K) but I would really like to still produce the t-shirt designs that I created as appreciation for your appreciation and just with my cutie spook handle instead of Lady lovely.

I really really think we're getting close to the point where I'm going to be creating merchandise with my original drawing designs on that merchandise so be excited cuz I'm excited and thank you for hanging in here with me.

I could have done it without you because I can do anything under any circumstances but I would not want to do it without you at all because after all my years as a lone wolf sociopathic weirdo I truly believe that life is an experience that is better when it's shared.

Even when and if we don't particular like it or agree with those perspectives.

I don't seek to change your perspective I just seek to expand it and the more people sharing their experiences of life the more puzzle pieces we have of the bigger picture.

And life is a picture so big that no one person could possibly comprehend it, so we need all the perspectives we can get!

[jelzorz]

Do you have any headcannons for Tiadrin sis pregnancy and lain during it

My dude, I have a whole fic I want to write just for this but to start y'all off:

I think I mentioned this before, but it's a half accident. They're not like actively trying for kids but Tiadrin didn't expect it to happen, like, immediately either. She was a little terrified of it when the healer first told her.

Lain is nothing but a gentleman for her - he holds her hair back when she throws up, gives her ginger root to make her feel better, does all the housework while she sleeps and while Tiadrin is hella grateful for it, she also feels kinda guilty that he won't let her help? He tells her to back right off and just rest. She's helping plenty. She's literally growing their child.

Eventually she does get sick of it tho, and she starts doing stuff again the moment she doesnt feel sick anymore. Unfortunately, she's also a warrior, so "stuff" means activities that aren't so conducive to growing a child. It takes one **very** close call during a sparring accident to settle her right down.

When Rayla starts kicking, Lain loses his mind. She kicks. He pokes her back. He can play this game for hours except he's not actually poking Rayla, he's poking Tiadrin and she's at a loss bc she thinks it's so cute he's so enamoured by the baby but also fucking stop Lain, Jesus.

Tiadrin gets her waddle going at 25 weeks. Lain thinks it's cute. Tiadrin threatens to kill him but they both know she can't do anything about it.

Tiadrin has never been that big before in her life and she finds herself feeling really down about it sometimes. Like yeah, she's obviously got a baby in there, but she doesn't feel attractive about it. Lain goes out of his way to make her feel better about it everyday.

She goes into labour early. Lain's a literal mess about it bc he's never seen Tiadrin in so much pain. Runaan and Ethari come to help him along (and also bc they're worried about Tiadrin too), but the three of them only keep their sanity through her labour bc they're all together.

Rayla's born just before dawn with no complications. She's the most beautiful thing Lain's ever seen and Tiadrin only pretends to take umbridge to that bc she also very openly agrees.

[heypasstheegg]

hm maybe something of willow falling asleep on wilson for the first time. the mutual pining is off the charts 😳 hsjdjdjf

lol sorry did i say ‘around 100′ words each i actually meant 761 because I’m trash 

enjoy Wilson being a massive dork 

(fyi Wilson’s being super overly-formal here because they just met and he thinks Willow is a blushing rose. Eventually he figures out shes a gremlin and he gets desensitized lol)

It was supposed to be a quick break. Five minutes, maximum. 

“Willow…” Wilson whispered to her from his end of the boulder. It was narrow, but it had a nice, flat surface in the shade that had seemed welcoming for a rest. Perhaps too welcoming, as now Willow had slipped away into dreamland and she didn’t seem too keen on waking up to continue their trek. The urge to poke her, as he might have done to somebody who wasn’t a relative stranger, was quite strong. He ignored it, of course. It would be quite untoward of him to place his hands on her. 

 “It’s time we were on our way…”

Willow mumbled something in her sleep and rolled over.

Onto his chest.

Wilson lifted his arms on reflex, face flushing. “Miss Willow!” 

She didn’t even budge.

Well this was a fine kettle of fish, Wilson thought, indignant. He had had a hunch this might happen, call it a hypothesis, that Willow would clonk out on him, since she had spent most of the night before tossing pine cones into the fire and watching the sap ooze out and crackle. Riveting he was sure, yes, but not conducive to going scouting bright and early the next morning. And now she was curled up against him like a kitten, practically purring herself, while he panicked and wondered what exactly he should do.

He couldn’t just… wake her up, could he? Couldn’t he just, touch her for a moment, give her a gentle shake so as to save his dignity along with her honour? 

Well, he supposed, he could really do... anything. He’d been in his own world, a microcosm of only Wilson and his once-so-very deeply rooted tendencies towards savagery, until quite recently in fact. He once went a year without any form of human contact and subsequently had done nothing to upset the sensibilities of others around him (Ha! For once), simply through virtue of them not being around to watch him wipe gristle from his mouth with his sleeve or wear his clothes multiple days in a row because, well, that’s just how things Needed to Be. Maybe nothing he did mattered anymore. 

Willow stirred, wrapping her arms around his midsection and lifting her leg over his lap. 

Oh no.

“Willow,” he squeaked, “please wake up!!” 

This was mortifying, it’s like he was trapped in one of those horrendous, ‘true confessions’ romance publications. Soon she would be whispering sweet nothings in his ear and he would need to call on her father and hope he was in one piece by the end of it so as not to sully her reputation. 

Wait, what on earth was he talking about? They were in the wilderness! And likely on another plane of existence entirely. Willow’s father wouldn’t know about their salacious encounter.

Wait, they’re not having a salacious encounter!! Pull it together, man!!

Willow turned her cheek into his neck and hummed, the way she tended to do with her little teddy bear. Wilson hadn’t quite pegged her the sort of rampant, chronic cuddler she apparently was, otherwise he never would have let this happen!!

So now he’s stuck here, cheeks aflame.

Alright Higgsbury, he thought, weigh your options. What would be most inconsiderate to thrust upon a young woman: Unwanted physical contact from a man she barely knew, or the shame of physical contact with said man she unknowingly initiated herself?

Hmm, one could think on this for quite some time. One would seem to imply that he ‘bit the bullet’ as it were and did what needed to be done. That might just be the best course of action, given she would probably be cross when she awoke to find that he just let her throw himself on him and enjoyed it like the cad he is. 

But, that was presumptuous, wasn’t it? Perhaps she would prefer to know that he hadn’t laid a finger on her in such a vulnerable state. She might be startled when she awoke. She might be just as angry!

For once, he wished he had gone to school for philosophy and not chemistry; maybe then an answer would come to him more timely.

Or maybe, he pondered, the answer was neither, and it would be best if he went to sleep himself, so he had plausible deniability when she awoke that he had been unconscious himself when the contact occurred! Yes, a most unfortunate accident, perfect! He was one heck of a philosopher, why on earth did people go to school for this?

“Mmm… Wilson?”

Bloody hell.

[brownstonearmy]

2020-08-01: Juiced! (Part 1)

August 3 (Monday Morning)

It's been several days since the last adventure, and Norm has been laying low to evade detection from folks who may aim to do him harm. The rest of the party, unencumbered by such thoughts of self-preservation, seek out their daily work orders as usual. And with the arrival of a new day, Q goes by Daffodil and accentuates their safety vest with lots of blinged-out yellow stuff. Snazzy! Lucky swings by the lizardfolk restaurant to grab some spell components like mushroom powder, saffron, and fat.

Back at HQ, Bob the Modron has three things on the docket today. The mayor wants to meet with SHART, Silas wants to discuss another undercover criminal investigation, and there are several complaints from the locals demanding to know when the sewer will be fixed after it was damaged by the appearance of the outhouse.

Since only one of those items is clearly a sanitation issue, the party opts to repair the damaged sewer first. They trek up toward the intersection of Thirty Oaks and West Champion Ave and find the area already cordoned off. A group of people in SHART vests are rudely telling passers-by to move along.

While the populace might not know better, the party notices something suspicious about these people. First off, no one in the party has seen these workers before. Secondly, aside from their work vests, the impostor SHART workers don't seem to be doing any actual work. They're just chasing everyone away from a hole in the street.

Lucky approaches the apparent leader of the not-SHARTs and asks him about starting work on the repairs. He tells her that Dave has some urgent business that the party needs to go back to SHART HQ to address. So Lucky calls the guy's bluff.

She pretends to cast sending and puts on a convincing one-sided conversation. Lucky gets the guy's name (Garry) and proceeds to write down a message "dictated" by Dave. According to Lucky, this is confidential information that Dave needs Silas to have ASAP. She stuffs it in an envelope and instructs Garry to give it to Silas.

Unfortunately for Garry, this is what the letter that's destined for Silas says: "This is a stick-up."

As Garry saunters off to have his unexpected encounter with the justice system, Daffodil sneaks past the work perimeter and listens for sounds of work. They hear sounds, but not the kind that would normally be associated with repair work. Amid the din of shuffling, scraping, and thumps from below the street, Daffodil hears the familiar voice of Holden Harcourt barking orders.

Daffodil hops into the broken sewer and stealthily works their way toward the sound of Holden's voice. The sounds of flowing sewage mask Daffodil's approach, and they come to a chamber where Holden is directing ratfolk to relocate several heavy chests of treasure.

Spleenifer and Lucky follow behind Daffodil, but Spleenifer's armor is not conducive to moving stealthily. And thus, Spleenifer ends up blundering right up to Daffodil and attracts the attention of ratfolk. The party's scent is familiar these particular ratfolk, who begin chanting excitedly about the arrival of the people who brought back foods from the Land of Plenty Beyond Wall.

Holden is irked that his task has been interrupted, but tries to play things cool. Just walk away for a while, he says, and there could be some monetary reward in it for the party. But the party says "nope!" and negotiations go sour. Holden unleashes a cloud of magical darkness and tries to escape with the ratfolk and treasure.

"I don't like the dark," Lucky says and counterspells away Holden's tactical retreat. Ultimate power move right there, folks! So now Holden is back at the negotiation table, but he still has one card up his sleeve when the party demands to know where Trashpit is.

Trashpit was captured and imprisoned by Holden to ensure the cooperation of the ratfolk. If the party wants to see Trashpit alive, they're going to have to give Holden and the other ratfolk a few hours to finish their work uninterrupted. Only then will Trashpit be returned.

Conveniently, the party's assorted magical abilities are able to repair the sewer issue in about the time it takes for Trashpit to be returned. Trashpit is weak and famished from being caged up and not fed very well, but Daffodil digs through their pack and finds a length of hemp rope that is for... Other Purposes. But they also find a handful of maggots in some food that wasn't packed properly. Trashpit feasts upon the offering and then has a joyous reunion with his favorite Tall Lady. Daffodil and Lucky excuse themselves from the reunion because they don't want to see a reunion tithe getting collected.

While Spleenifer and Trashpit are basking in the post-tithing glow, Trashpit mentions that he was being kept in a warehouse of some kind where people would bring in lots of rings. More than could reasonably fit on all your fingers, even if you had more than the usual amount of fingers. Bags and bags of rings. And with that, Trashpit collapses into a blissful slumber in Spleenifer's arms.

Once out of the sewers, Lucky suggests taking a detour by the constable's office to see what's become of Garry (and also to see what Silas needed). And Garry's fate involves pretty much what you would expect to happen to someone who gives a robbery note to the constable. Yep, Garry's in jail.

Silas is happy to see our band of crafty adventurers, because they have gifted him with a source of information who gave up all sorts of information. Silas's original plan was to ask the party to keep an eye out for potential break-ins during their daily work-activities. There's been a rash of burglaries, but the only things stolen were rings. No one saw the burglars, but several of the houses had empty bottles of JUICED! energy drink nearby and/or some intestinal skidmarks on the window frames.

But thanks to Garry (who insists he isn't directly involved in this stuff, of course), Silas knows of a place that you DEFINITELY don't want to go to if you have rings and want to keep them. He gives the party an address of where crimes are almost certainly going to be committed tonight, and asks the party to stay away. Everyone except for Spleenifer is fluent in winks and subtext, and thus makes a plan to do the exact opposite of what Silas is suggesting.

Lucky casts Seeming and outfits everyone with an ostentatious amount of rings on their fingers, before splitting the party up to make appearances and get noticed about town. Hilaria accompanies Lucky on a date to acquire a perfectly-balanced sword, before going out to a nice dinner at a place where the lights really glint off the all the jewelry.

Daffodil, meanwhile, will play a show at Uggo's Rag Shack. Spleenifer's never been to a place where dancing was conventionally allowed or encouraged before, so she wants to see what the fuss is about. But first, Spleenifer needs to offset the potential sinful allure of dancing by placing lots of wreaths on the headstones in the cemetery.

By sunset, the wreaths are on the graves and Daffodil is playing some excellent metal music on their hurdy gurdy. The crowd is thoroughly amped up when Spleenifer arrives. Daffodil notices an older man in the audience eyeing their rings more than the other people.

Once the bass drops, Spleenifer feels the music course through her body. "Glory be to God," she yells to the dance floor. "Let's do the lawnmower!" She then plants her face upon the ground and mows through the crowd to raucous cheers.

After the conclusion of the song, Daffodil takes a break to mingle and keep an eye on the mysterious stranger as someone puts on a Barbena Bloodkith single to keep the dance floor hopping. The stranger's eyes still nonchalantly follow Daffodil's rings wherever they go.

The stranger leaves with bulky backpack around 10PM that night, which is COMPLETELY COINCIDENTALLY (wink wink) the time the party retires for the evening at a house in a crime-infested neighborhood. The party sets up some traps, Home Alone style and waits.

Lucky casts Mage Armor to appear like a nightgown and then claims the largest bed in the house. Spleenifer meditates in prayer in another room, while Daffodil is couch surfing. The scene is set!

Around 1 in the morning, the mysterious stranger sneaks through Daffodil's window. Ever the consummate performer, Daffodil feigns sleep as the stranger starts looking for stuff to loot. As he leaves the room, he hits the tripwire Daffodil left and falls flat on his thieving face.

Everyone leaps into action with various levels of preparedness. Spleenifer and Daffodil jump into the hallway with weapons drawn, while Lucky stumbles into the hallway after having fallen asleep. Lucky helps the wannabe thief up and then goes back to bed.

The thief tries to explain away his presence by saying he had the wrong house and was actually trying to visit a special friend for some nighttime activities that special friends have been known to engage in on occasion. Daffodil's ears perk up at the mention of special friendship. It just so happens that Daffodil has some "special friendship rope" in their pack!

But don't worry, dear readers! Things are not about to take a turn in that direction! It turns out that the party is only interested in getting information out of our restrained special burglar friend! Daffodil runs point on the interrogation, with Spleenifer offering "moral support" by standing ominously in the shadows of the hallway with her quarterstaff smacking against her palms in an uncomfortably meaty fashion.

The burglar claims his name is Yance Elbereth, a trader of antiquities. He's working with some other people to steal a bunch of rings for his boss, a woman he knows only as Z. Apparently Z is working with Brynnan, but she would like some sort of leverage over him to ensure his continued loyalty. There was a magic ring Brynnan was looking for, and since no one knew exactly what sort of ring to look for, they just took all the rings they could find and hoped one of them was the one Brynnan needed.

Daffodil searches Yance's backpack, and finds some stuff that corroborates his story. There are spell components, vials of drugs, lots of rings, and a battered ram's horn. When they ask about the ram's horn, Yance says that he was contracted by Brynnan to retrieve a horn like this. From Yance's account, Brynnan recently came into a lot of money which is how Yance is getting paid to find the horn. He was planning on visiting Brynnan later and using the horn as a pretext to search for the ring.

If Yance is some sort of double agent, he could be useful to the party. Daffodil releases Yance and sends him on his way into the night. Minus several of his possessions, which Daffodil is keeping as payment for their trouble. They take a fancy cloak, the spell components, drugs, and rings, but leaves the ram's horn and the bottle of JUICED! with Yance as the adventure concludes for the evening.

Stay tuned next time for more!

[cutiepasta-thewriter]

Demon Step-Dad au

Peter is a curious soul who gets involved with occult rituals. He was going through an edgy phase.

It was the day he summoned a powerful demon that changed his life.

The tall lithe humanoid being was beyond anything Peter had expected. Sharp white teeth, thick black claws, and horns with obsidian, all that and a practically naked visage.

Peter was quick to begin the deal even if he was in shock that it actually worked.

The deal was that in exchange for a portion of Peter's life the demon would aid Peter through his life.

Unfortunately Peter didn't know that the real meaning of that deal would be very different from what he expected.

Tony didn't know what to think when Peter suddenly had a sinfully attractive british 'tutor'. Said tutor had a more traditional view of his job and was constantly by Peter's side teaching him everything from math, housework, economics to basic manners. It was all so odd but Tony couldn't find a reason to complain especially when this Dr.Strange tended to spend the evening with him after Peter was put to bed by the doctor.

When they announced they were dating Peter wasn't happy. His demon was sleeping with his dad. It was enough that "aiding in his life" actually meant raising him like a child. Anytime Peter made an order Stephen ignored it if in the end it was conducive to making him a better, healthier adult. On time of that "taking a portion of his life" meant invading his life and taking a place in it while on earth.

Thing were pretty hectic as Peter over and over attempted to reveal Stephen's true nature and everything the demon intercepted it and the one time Peter called him a demon didn't go well.

"Dad you don't get it. He's a demon!" Peter yelled over the table as they ate dinner.

"Peter Benjamin Parker! I know you're not exactly enthusiastic about us dating but you should know better then to say that!" Tony scolded his son.

"Peter, I know it's hard to understand but you said it yourself that you wanted your father to be happy. And I make him happy. I think for our next lesson we should go over table etiquette, you know better then to put your elbows on the table." Stephen said with a hint of humor in his eyes.

Peter wasn't going to let this demon marry his dad. He was going to stop him no matter what.

[rusalkii]

That was not the best week I’ve ever had.

I can’t tell how much of this is just the effect of spending most of this week kind of miserable and therefore underrating what I did mange to get done but I definitely did not study for my CS exam at all, missed both my dance classes, did not go dancing this evening for reasons that boiled down to “didn’t feel like getting out of bed”, and did not make meaningful progress on anything else, in the way that looks like sitting around being miserable about not doing it while, still, not doing things. I think part of the reason is that I didn’t study for the exam, so I had this whole giant thing labeled Study For The Exam that I felt I couldn’t make any headway at, so I didn’t, and that built itself up into a Thing. The other part was the vicious cycle where my mood affects my productivity and my productivity my mood and messing up either one badly enough just spirals everything for the day/week/etc.

Takeways: Study. for. your. classes. At times that aren’t “the night before the exam”. This keep happening and it’s bad and it does no one any good. Why do humans even have the “you have to do this thing but you’re not going to do it until the last possible moment when it’s a giant terrifying pile of misery instead of a mildly uninteresting task” button? Can I register a complaint somewhere? Aiming for notes does not get all of the notes done but gets more than 0, which is more than I was doing earlier, so I’m keeping that. Otherwise I... genuinely do not know what to do about this. Artificial deadlines? I can try to experiment with those but generally they feel very very fake.

I think I need better routines. At one point I had a morning list routine that worked pretty well. I’m going to try to put that into Todoist as a repeating thing, with just, hmm. Teeth, face, water, daily list. If that works next week I can see about iterating on it.

I sent the stupidly late email just now, having started to write about how I STILL HAVEN’T SENT IT, realizing this did not actually increase my odds of having sent it, and thinking about what would. Drafting professional emails with someone who will tell you if they’re horrible: an improvement over writing something and then staring at it in terror. So that’s done. Good job, self.

Social: aaa? Looking very vaguely into CBT-workbook type things for anxiety, generally did the Have You Considered You Have A Problem routine. (Thought for a solid minute about therapy, concluded this was way too much Have You Considered You Have A Problem and costs an amount of dollars even on insurance where I’d need to talk to parents and feel like I had a good justification for spending that much money and nope). Unfortunately I have the kind where thinking about it a lot plausibly makes it worse, because then I am A Person With Anxiety. Skipped dance lessons this week for reasons mentioned above, did go to a social Saturday which was fun. Otherwise my social things this week were... talking to partners online, less than average; one extended non-partner online conversation; conversations in my new channel in a server I’m in, which are... weirdly stressful, in the “need to look good and interesting and not awkward” kind of way; various brief interjections in other discord places; regular lunch with a friend; going to see my parents; SCA business meeting. Notably all of the irl ones except the lunch happened over the weekend. Possibly I should... call people more? I don’t know. I have an excellent set of irl social circles, they’re just far enough away from me I can’t see them often enough for this to help that much. (This is false, when I didn’t have even that I was absolutely miserably lonely basically all the time and now this is a rare enough state to be notable).

I wake up at around 9:30 naturally if I don’t do anything about it. This is... fine? Waking up with an alarm just doesn’t work unless I have a reason to listen to it, so I’m dropping that. I’ll try to aim to go to bed around 12:30-1AM and see if that’s a stable sleep schedule. Naps are awful for me and I keep doing them anyway. One thing I want to experiment with anyway is severely cutting down the amount of things I do on my phone, which should move me to my laptop. I’d also like to start using my laptop on my desk consistently, instead of in bed half the time. I think being physically in bed less will help. So... I’ll download an the blocker app I used, limit my phone-internet use to 1 hour/day, and make sure the laptop lives on my desk.

Current mood is not particularly conducive to going over previous instances of my weekly reviews, I endorse leaving it until tomorrow or Sunday but want to get it done sometime this week.

[milatherese]

Update No. 5 (*cue Mambo No. 5*) – 90 Days, School, Discernment (just a lil bit)

Note #1: This update is long. Don’t say I didn’t warn you. Note #2: If you don’t know Mambo No. 5, you need to listen to it (even though the lyrics may be morally wrong, it is quite catchy).

“How was the 90 day journey of a tiny bit of asceticism?” you ask. (nobody cares but I’m pretending you do haha)

That’s a question I still ask myself several days later. 90 days is a lot to process. Therefore, I have included my short answer to this question here: – It was a bit hard in the beginning but got easier as the days went by – I especially enjoyed the no social media / limited communication – I hated cold showers, actually gave it up by the end of the first month or so because it did more harm than good (imo)

The beginning was a little rough, but about as good as sacrifice gets. (you can read my thoughts on that here, here, and here) About a month in, I couldn’t cope, at least physically. I ended up just doing what I felt I was strong enough to do.

January was a little rough. Ever since school started, I had headaches every day (including non-school days). (If you’re wondering why I never shared this with you and why I hid my pain, it was because I didn’t want you to worry.)

At first the headaches were tolerable. I could get through a 12-hour day with minimal pain. They got increasingly worse. I began taking Tylenol according to the recommended dosage (1-2 tablets every 4-6 hours). I didn’t take Tylenol every other day (I try to avoid medicine, if possible) but I eventually “graduated” to taking the extra strength Tylenol, also according to the recommended dosage. Eventually, the headaches began to impact my studying. I had limited time to study (I had to time my studying during the lesser painful waves of my headaches). I was so worried for one class that I spent all my time studying for that one class during lecture of another difficult class (I figured I could bring up my grade in the second class later). Despite my high of level of unpreparedness, I was looking forward to taking the exams for both classes. I thought my headaches were the result of stressing over those two classes. Unfortunately, taking the exams for those classes didn’t end the headaches. In fact, they may have increased the pain.

My headaches soon became unbearable. I couldn’t hide the pain any longer. I couldn’t sleep. I couldn’t move. I couldn’t eat out of fear that I would only make the pain worse. I was in tears from the pain. Massaging my head and using an ice pack didn’t reduce the pain. I wanted to rip my head off to get rid of the pain once and for all.

At this time, I decided it was time to begin thinking about seeing the doctor about this. (Yes, I should have already gone to the doctor but my pain isn’t really a concern to me.) I decided that I would go to the doctor if the headaches persist for another week.

The pain was at its absolute worst one Saturday. I had to call in sick for work (we had an event – which I was really looking forward to, btw). I spent the day crying from the pain (at this point, my body wasn’t really responding to Tylenol). Finally, the physical pain began to affect my mental health. I was trying to figure out the root cause of the pain. I began questioning all my decisions – transferring high schools, transferring universities, not applying to a certain community, leaving relationships, etc. I was wondering if this was some sort of a punishment for making the “wrong” decision (which I later learned is no such thing, more on this another day). I felt so lost and alone. I was wondering if this was a taste of what Mother St. Teresa described as a “long dark night.” (I referenced this before in my last update but I just can’t get her long dark night out of my head.) I eventually cried myself to sleep and slept the rest of the day until 2am the next day.

When I woke, I noticed the pain had disappeared and, with it, the emotional rollercoaster I was going through earlier. I was able to get some rest from the physical and emotional pain and my mind was finally functioning as it normally would – quiet and able to think logically. It was clear that my pain was not for torment but for me to focus on something more important than the pain itself. I decided to pray the Rosary for it had been several weeks since I had been able to pray the Rosary without distractions (I would either fall asleep or be distracted by the headache or my studies). I prayed God would help me discern what He wanted me to tend to. I felt that I should prayerfully consider my career path now that I was away from outside influences.

I began reflecting on my semester thus far. There was one day that my mom visited campus and overheard some girls complimenting and encouraging each other. She told me, “I want you to be in whatever major they’re in. They seem happy. You don’t.” At the time, I was too stubborn to see that my happiness was just a mask I put on to “be strong.” I remembered writing pre-labs and post-labs but barely understanding the material, only understanding the grammar necessary to produce acceptable scholarly work. I recalled being so stressed that I was rude to the whole world (except for work) to the point that my mom exclaimed, “Who are you? You’re not human anymore!”  She was right – I wasn’t myself.  That woke me up. I thought, “What good is my major if it only brings out the worst in me?” In prayer, felt called to pursue another career instead of MD/DO. I still don’t know what career exactly, but I’m trusting that my time studying and preparing for MD/DO will help me in my calling.

That Sunday, I informed my parents and one trusted relative of my decision to change majors and they were overjoyed. (My uncle seemed to have already known in the beginning that I would leave the MD/DO path, but wanted me to come to that decision myself.)

So, I changed majors back to Allied Health, B.S.

I met with my academic advisor (not the one who screwed me over, for any of those who know the story) and we came up with a school plan. Estimated graduation date was Fall 2021.

I dealt with this change as best I could and things were on the up and up…until it wasn’t.

Early February, I learned that a close priest friend had passed away, just 3 days shy of his birthday. I had been looking forward to his birthday (not that I would be with celebrating with him, just happy he would be celebrating another year) so hearing the news was devastating. He was like an uncle to me. To quote what I said at a memorial, he was “a great friend, a big brother, a father figure, a very holy man, a man for others.” (There’s so much I can say on him but I’ll leave that for another post) The first day, I seemed okay. Minimal feelings of sadness. It hadn’t hit me yet. It hit me the very next day. And it hit hard and long. I was crying everywhere I went whenever I was away from family and friends. Some days were harder than others (my supervisor sent me home early to give me time to grieve). I was going through so many emotions. I was frustrated that I was taking so long to grieve (I later learned that grief has no time limit) and annoyed that I did not feel comfortable talking to my family or friends about it. I had faced loss before (when Bro. Morgan passed away), but never anything as devastating as this. I did not know how to cope with grief. I struggled to stay focused during class (actually broke down in tears at least during one class each day) and to finish my work (skipped out on a staff meeting due to waterworks). I cancelled a couple meetings and called in sick to group therapy twice. I distanced myself from the world and those who love[d] me. Unfortunately, all this affected my studies once again. Despite my lighter load, I could not concentrate. I did not think of sharing all this with my professors as I felt like they wouldn’t understand (or maybe I was just being stubborn again?)

It came time for RECongress and I held it together (somewhat…more on that on another post). It was that Friday that I was able to study without getting distracted by grief. I had an exam the following Monday. But one day of studying 3+ weeks of material was not enough to pass the exam. So there went that.

February went by with each day bleeding into the next. Each day was a blur until one blessed night.

My brother had arrived home late from school one day and as he was pulling into our driveway (why do we park on driveways and drive on parkways) a beautiful dog approached him. I won’t go into details but the dog is now ours and has been the biggest blessing this semester, especially in helping our family cope with grief. We believe (as do others) that Father Suarez sent her to us.

Come March and April, things were finally on the up and up again. I was studying every day and keeping up with work. But then quarantine hit and things went downhill yet again. I did become more active on this blog since March 16th but inside I was deteriorating. However, it wasn’t as detrimental as January and February. Let’s just say that I learned the house is not conducive to studying, I may need a new prescription for glasses, and we need to find better internet (or move to a place with better cell signal). I failed a final due to failed internet connection (thanks be to God I got another shot at it). I took my two other finals in the car in the parking lot in front of Starbucks.

Quarantine has been the best and the worst for me. I realized that spiritually, I was thirsty. Thirsty for God. I live-streamed Mass and adoration daily and at odd hours, even doing homework and studying “with God.” The more things I had to do, the more I felt the need to “hang” with God (which, in retrospect, may have been a bad decision because I ended up procrastinating and losing a lot of sleep). I learned to value receiving the sacraments in-person now. I’m more aware of when I sin or am near sin. It has also reignited the flame of faith. I’ve been doing a lot more spiritual reading, especially now that APU semester is over (still have one class at a JC).

Despite this, discernment got a bit murky. I began questioning my vocation and doing a lot more “reality checks” (and a lot more second-guessing). Frankly, I don’t think I would survive living in a community of all women since all my close friends are men. (Or is that an excuse I am making for myself?) I don’t think I would make a great mother either so perhaps I’m meant to be single? (Or am I just a harsh critic of myself and I would actually be a great mother?) I had not really spoken to my spiritual director in months (transportation and schedule issues, both on my part).

A priest I met at RECongress learned I was discerning religious life (if you didn’t know this, I hope this isn’t a surprise) and asked me to email him as soon as possible in case I need guidance. I didn’t email him until April 1st so that may have contributed to my overthinking. He replied a couple weeks later (and I replied a couple days after that and am still awaiting a response). I asked God for “another sign, for some clarity” and He gave me another. However, everything still looks murky to me. I feel both consolation and desolation at the same time. I might be facing another identity crisis like last semester. Aye.

Ok this is way longer than I had planned so I’m just gonna stop right here.

If you read this far, thank you for reading. If you relate to anything I shared, I hope you know that you’re not alone and that if you ever need anything (even if it’s just a listening ear), I’ll do my best to help. Just ask. (And if you need something but I haven’t replied in a long time, just reach out again. I forget to reply to messages quite often.)

[vore-scientist]

Garden Gnomes, Except They’re Elves (In Which There Are Thieves) [M/multiple prey safe, soft GT vo.re]

A Tale of the Mystic Woods

Yonah (the “evil” giant wizard) deals with thieves on a regular basis. They are rather a nuisance but they do taste good!

Almost every encounter with a thief follows a pattern: 1) Thief breaks in to the tower. 2) Yonah catches and eats the thief. 3) Yonah releases the thief and if they accept it, gives them some money for their trouble.

“In Which There Are Thieves” are a collection of stories that follow that pattern, but each is unique!

Note: this encounter takes place before Sophia comes to live with Yonah. Miryan the witch features in this story!

Content warnings: Yonah is a bit mean in this one when taunting his prey as they really pissed him off. So a little more emotional distress than usual. 

----

In the quiet misty morning we find Yonah HaEsh taking care of his garden. Normally an imposing figure, dressed in sun bleached pink pinstriped shirt, overalls, and a wide brimmed straw hat in place of the tall wizard one, Yonah looked like a rather jolly farmer. Especially as he whistled a little tune while weeding a bed of daliah’s. They weren’t magical, nor were they edible, but they came in such vibrant colors and their petals arranged so perfectly and impossibly round, they might as well be made of pure arcane joy.

A mage’s garden takes a lot of special care. In addition to the common plants which have different needs when it comes to fertilizing, watering and pruning, the magical plants all have additional special requirements.

Weeping Forget Me Nots needed extra salts and minerals in their water. SnowHeart Raspberry bramble had to be pruned of all leaves to produce the most potently frozen berries. The tops of Bickering Radishes had to be untangled from each other, pity they refused to grow in isolation. You get the idea.

Things were going smoothly until it was time to feed the Fire-Breathing Snap Dragons. As carnivorous plants had to be fed weekly. Yonah had spent years perfecting the recipe to the food blocks he fed to his Snap Dragons. It was a tricky balance between adding extra nutrients and maintaining a flavor that the Dragons would not just tolerate but enjoy. Plus they would get bored with one flavor after a while, so Yonah had developed several varieties to keep them satisfied.

Yet they were refusing to eat today! It couldn’t be the food blocks, this particular flavor was one of their favorites. He had to pinch their jaws to force them open. And they were reluctant to let him do that, holding their flowers away from his fingers. But they were still plants and couldn’t actually go anywhere. When he finally grabbed a flower on the stalk of indigo blue heads, the other stalks turned and breathed fire at him. This did nothing to him. In fact it was pleasant, or it would be if it weren’t concerning.

This wasn’t coy, playful fire, this was “get away” fire.  

“What has gotten into you?” He asked knowing they couldn’t respond.

Maybe it was just a funk. Plant emotions are mysterious. It was irritating however, as it took three times as long to feed all 20 of the stalks. Fortunately, once food was in their jaws they couldn’t breath anymore fire. Unfortunately, with all the fire breathing they would need to fed again in a few days, throwing off the current schedule! How annoying.

Wait.

There were only 19 stalks. The black stalk was gone! Roots and all. 

Shit. Well, that explained their bad mood.

His heart racing he furiously scoured the rest of his magical plants.

In addition to the missing Snap Dragon he found the stump of a stem of a ruby rose blossom, knife marks were thorns had been scrapped off the invisible dusk blooming choke vines, and a missing golden apple.

A Garden thief! That was the worst kind. Yonah had to keep his hair from crackling and sending off sparks; not all of his plants were fireproof. He was able to keep it at the usual smolder.

Judging by the freshness of the cut from the rose bush, the thief had come the previous night. And they might try again.

It was time for a stake out! And for that he would need to make some preparations.

But it was early in the day, and he completed the rest of the gardening before returning to his tower. His plans of checking the perimeter to see what had shifted since last week could wait. Checking the perimeter wasn’t something he ever needed to do, strictly speaking. It was a practice he had picked up from his mother who patrolled the woods around her village, and a skill that he had hated learning but now found incredibly useful. It also got him out of the tower and walking around, even if he couldn’t go very far.

But today he wasn’t going on his walk, he was preparing to catch a thief.

Being so large there wasn’t anywhere he could hide, even in a reduced state. So taking some dried out invisible dusk-blooming choke vine thorns that he had collected not too long ago, he powered them and mixed them with lemon juice. Distilling that made a very dirty invisibility potion. Since he had not applied any spellcasting it only worked at night when the choke vines bloomed. But adding a spell to it was more expensive and time consuming; he only needed it during the night. The quick version was fine.

Next was trickier. Despite his mother’s best efforts, he never learned how to walk as silently as she. And the pathways in his garden were not conducive to keeping silent. That was by design, so that no one could sneak up on him while he worked.

Enchanting a pair of boots for levitation was not a simple task, even if one only wanted to levitated a few inches. It took a lot of pixie dust, which was not easy to get. Yonah had been slowly purchasing/trading for small pinches for years. This would drain his supply.

And there was no avoiding spellcasting for this one. At school Yonah had learned to enchant carpets. Boots were very different, it was more like enchanting a broom, which wizards didn’t learn. Witches did, but his father had never taught him.

The boots needed a spell to account for shifting weight distribution and to bind the levitation magic in the dust to the boots. A carpet’s large surface area handled that already. However carpets needed program spells so it would take commands. The boots needed no such programming, they would just sit a few inches above any surface at all times. Carpets needed advanced propulsion spells to fly, and sensory spells to someone could steer/brake/accelerate by leaning to or pulling the sides. With the boots movement was achieved with one’s own body.

Of course, every wizard had experimented with levitation spells applied to oneself. It was ill-advised and dangerous, so while he had an idea of what to do from past foolishness, he was basically building an unfamiliar enchantment from scratch.

Could he have used his mirror to purchase levitating boots? Sure, if he wanted to drain his savings, such a purchase couldn’t be put on the king’s tab, and delivery was not guaranteed to happen by tonight. Magical deliveries were never a sure thing.

Plus it was more fun to design it himself. There wasn’t anything Yonah really enjoyed more than researching spell design. Except for researching spell design with other wizards. Sadly no one answered his calls, and he couldn’t expect them to come help him last minute.

That and... they would ask why he needed to design such a spell. He couldn’t tell them it was to catch thieves; that could easily lead to them finding out he ate the thieves. His friends did not know that he ate people, and he wanted to keep it that way. Since they were people, and already knew he fancied their taste. They might never visit him again if they found out he wanted to and could easily eat them, even if he would never act on that desire.

Enough introspection.

By the end of the day he amazed even himself, for he had a pair of levitating boots so well enchanted that they almost felt like one was still walking on solid ground. Almost.

Now the real difficult part: Staying awake. After a day of research and casting he was extremely tired. Not to mention he had forgotten to eat both lunch and dinner. He managed to have a nap and a quick snack but with the sun down he had to take his place outside. Before climbing down he took the invisibility potion, just in case someone was watching the tower they would not see him and assume he was asleep.

It would have been impossible to stay awake if he had to stay still. But with his levitating boots he could slowly patrol the garden like ghostly sentinel. Not hearing his own footsteps was unsettling and yet… powerful. Is this what his mom felt like stalking beasts at night? He would have to ask her.

The moon was full and illuminated the night with a silver glow. The air was crisp and refreshing in the lungs. And it was completely silent. No thief. Not yet.

As the hours wore on the need for sleep increased. Yonah made his way to the golden apple tree. Surely if the thief came back they would go for another apple. No one could resist golden apples, being gold after all.

He knelt down next to the tree and closed his eyes.

And snapped back open when an apple landed only inches from his feet, hitting the round with an odd THUMP. Yonah looked up. Someone was in the tree.

“Hey Jakyl!” came a voice from over by the roses. “Careful with the produce! If it’s been bruised there will be consequences!”

“It’s made of gold Jakrin!” said the person in the tree.

Two thieves!

Yonah stepped to the side and Jakyl landed right where he had been sitting.

Were these little children? They were rather loud and Jakyl was barely over 3 feet tall. But their voices were mature.

They picked up the apple and examined it with glee as Yonah snuck up behind them. And lunged. With a hand over their face they couldn’t scream and he held them tight.

And they weren’t a child. They were an elf. Short, pointed ears, and thoroughly confused as they were held by an invisible person.

He tucked the elf into his arm and headed into the garden proper to catch the other.

“Jakrin!”

A third voice!? Was tonight his lucky night?

“Hey Jakrin, what was the plant I wasn’t supposed to touch? Was it the Fanged Timbleberry or the Sneezing Feverfew?”

Another elf walked right into Yonah’s line of sight. They had clenched fists and were stomping rather loudly. That must be Jakrin. The one in his arms struggled but Jakrin didn’t see their floating comrade.

“I told you three times already Jaccuzi, figure it out yourself!”

They stomped back to the rose bush.

“ACHOO”

Yonah’s head snapped in the direction of he sneeze. Hm… Jacuzzi would be easier to catch, they seemed a bit dimwitted.

And indeed, in the midst of a sneezing fit they did not notice Yonah’s approach until they too were tucked into his arm.

Now for the leader.

Unfortunately with the sudden silencing of Jacuzzi, Jakrin had caught on to Yonah’s presence and was keeping out of sight. Well, he had two out of three. Maybe it was time to see how close they were.

He made himself visible, and grinned down at the two elves in his arm, the moonlight glinting off his teeth. He took one in another hand. Jakyl maybe? And held them up. They whimpered.

“I have your teammates, surrender yourself or I‘ll start crushing skulls,” he didn’t shout but he gave his voice an earthquake quality that spread in all directions.

Jakrin appeared from behind the bed of dahlias, murder in their eyes.

“Put them down!”

“Run Jakrin!” the elf squealed, “save yourself!”

Jakrin nodded solemnly and bolted.

Fortunately elves had very short legs, and Yonah had very long legs. Jakrin didn’t get far and soon found themselves reunited with the rest of their team.

“That was rather fun, wasn’t it?” Yonah growled at them.

“No!” Jakrin spat in his face, “What are you going to do with us!?”

Yonah grinned again licking his lips and pressed the three elves against his gut. As he thought about how good they would taste it rumbled in anticipation.

“I’m going to eat you.”

Their ears fell and their large black elf eyes nearly bulged out of their heads, the moon filling their shimmering voids.

“You-you lie!” said Jakrin with little hope, “Humans don’t eat elves! What kind of sicko are you?”

“Not human,” Yonah growled, bringing fire into his eyes as he walked to the side of the tower.

He sat down with the elves in his lap, all of them secure in one arm. He took his staff from his hat and dispelled the reduction. The elves, now in his hands, screamed. Taking Jakrin he held them up above his head and opened his mouth. He dropped the elf inside.

Humans were savory, elves were sweet. And small enough that he could fit them entirely in his mouth. Jakrin screamed as Yonah licked them like a candy, drool escaping from his mouth. The other elves were staring up in shock and shrieked when he tipped his head back and swallowed dramatically.

He didn’t wait for Jakrin to make it to his stomach, he selected another elf and tossed them up, catching them in his teeth with uncanny gentleness, and drew them into his mouth to be gulped down.

Two elves in his stomach and he wasn’t even full! But he didn’t eat the third. Not just yet. The other two were pounding against his insides, making it move slightly, and they were yelling themselves hoarse. He held the third against his gut, and they whimpered as they heard their fellows’ screams and felt their struggles.  

“It would be cruel to break up the team,” Yonah said, as he brought them to his mouth. Their face was streaked with shining tears. Good! He felt no sympathy for these flora filching fuckers!

The saltiness of the tears complimented the sweet taste as he licked the third elf bodily before eating them too. 

With three elves he felt full and looked full! They were certainly stuffed in there but there was still some room to stretch, struggle, and protest. It was delightful! It was rare that he got to have multiple snacks at the same time. With humans it always hurt more than it felt in anyway good. The sensations made him a little drowsy. He would have to be careful not to nod off.

Woah! Or not! 

Energy surged through him from a jolt that slammed into his stomach, waking him up and heightening his senses. He chuckled. One of them had cast a spell.

“Nice try, but that’s not going to work,” he lied, patting his gut, causing the elves to freak and scramble. It was pure chance they has chosen to cast fire magic which his body absorbed.

---

From the tree line they watched the events unfold. The elves arriving, getting pick off one by one, and chased down. Once the giant wizard had eaten all the elves and was lounging against his tower, a little too pleased with himself, they nudged their broomstick forward.

The giant looked up and his villainous grin was replaced with a genuinely friendly and excited one.

“Miryan! What brings you here?”

They stopped their broom a meter from his face, it was their turn to smile wickedly.

“I was watching from the woods. Those little shits stole from my garden too.”

“Oh dear, did you want a shot at them?”

They shook their head and Siv, who was sitting on the broom bristles, meowed, “and ruin your fun? I wouldn't dream of it!”

At a low gurgling noise they glanced down at Yonah’s middle. Even in the dark they could see occasionally twitches and trembles as the elves continued to fight; their cries piercing but muffled. Yonah giggled and rubbed at it.

“Do you want to join the party?” Yonah’s eyes glinted playfully.

“No thanks,” they said, seriously. 

But Yonah was unfazed, “Can I at least get a taste?” he asked without a hint of disappointment.

They flew closer, past his lips and to his cheek.

“Only if I get one first,” they said, pressing their lips to his warm skin. The still glowing eyes that looked down at them.

As they alighted on his shoulder Yonah turned his head to kiss the dwarf witch’s fuzzy face, sticking the tip of his tongue out briefly. Dwarves were not as tasty as humans or elves, but he had come to find immense delight in Miyran’s earthy flavor.

They laughed and eventually pushed his face away.

“How are they doing?” They asked. 

Yonah looked down and poked at his gut making the elves squirm and panic. To Yonah it felt like a ticklish massage, so he poked again. The elves definitely didn’t like that, but he did. 

“I think it’s time you pardon them, don’t you?” posited Miryan. 

“I suppose so,” Yonah sighed and pushed himself up onto his knees.

Miryan hopped back on their broom to hover around Yonah’s face. They were unsure if they wanted to watch this. They had experienced it from the other side and it was deeply unpleasant. But their curiosity got the better of them.

Their giant friend pressed both of his hands to his full gut and convulsed. Once, twice, three times. Each time the elves screams grew louder. With a pained grin and a triumphant snarl he started hacking and heaving. Spit flew from his mouth and Miyran narrowly dodged the offensive fluids, backing up another meter as Yonah leaned forward, gagging and holding his hands under his face.

He choked, and an elf fell into his hands. Again. Another elf. A third time. No elf. Miryan grew worried, but Yonah shuddered let out a horrible sound like Siv with a hairball, and the final elf tumbled out with a splat on top of the other two. He curled his fingers over them before they regained their senses enough to escape.

Miryan flew back to his shoulder. They could both feel and hear Yonah’s pulse raging alongside his wheezing breaths.

The elves regained their voices first.

“Let us go!” They pleaded.  

“He already did! Or did you leave your brains in his stomach?!” Miyran shouted down at them.

Six shining eyes locked onto the witch. Another person they had stolen from. They might be out of the giant but weren’t out of the woods yet, not by a long shot.

Yonah sat up and slumped against his tower. He held the elves up to his face, breathing hot air over them. They shivered and squeaked out fearful noises. They were not giving up, especially now that they weren’t being eaten. And now that they were covered in slime it was hard to keep his grip without hurting them. 

Catching his breath as quickly as he could Yonah sat up straight and focused, glaring at the elves. They froze, their big black eyes reflecting the orange glow of his own. 

“You caught me in a good mood, little morsels,” he hissed, “care to make it better by giving back what is rightfully mine?”

The elves, though scared out of their little elf minds, shook their heads.

“We! We can’t!”

Miryan flew to Yonah’s hands. Their boots sticking into the saliva. That... would wash off.

“Why not?”

“We need them! For a potion.”

The witch and wizard narrowed their eyes at the creatures.

“Our village has been taken by a plague, we have been traveling far and wide for ingredients! It’s our only hope!”

With a loud CRACK Yonah’s head hit the stones behind him and he groaned. Of course they had to have a worthy and righteous cause for their crime. He And Miryan were going to have to do the right thing here. CRACK CRACK. 

Miryan ignored Yonah and knelt in front of the elf who was speaking, Jakrin, and stroked their beard. Shaking, Jarkin peeled their eyes from Yonah to look at Miryan. 

“I’m starting to think you never had brains to begin with. If you’d led with that we might have been willing to help you, and you would have had to get eaten.”

Jakrin sniffed, wrinkling their nose as the smell of drying mucus and spit hit them, “We have no money! Our village is poor!”

Yonah stared up at the moon but still spoke “Then you work for trade! Or trade with work!”

“That would take too long!”

Yonah dimmed his eyes and looked at Miryan who nodded. The dwarf looked back to the elves. 

“Tell us about the sickness and the potion you need, I’m sure we can work something out.”

The elves brightened at this, even if they were still held tightly in Yonah’s grasp.

—-

Back in Yonah’s tower, washed up, given cups of tea and a plate of bread and jams, the elves told them everything.

The disease as they described it was real, Miryan recognized it as Resplendent Frozen Fatigue and indeed it required a stupidly convoluted potion to cure. They had been sent out to retrieve the ingredients, and by retrieve they meant steal. And had they collected the items from Yonah and Miryan’s gardens successfully they would move on to the next targets. Certain ingredients were extremely rare.

But not impossible to get. Not for Miryan or Yonah at least. They even had a few of the more obscure oils and animal parts. 

Of course they weren’t going to give these to the elves for free. They might have if they hadn’t used theft as their first course of action.

To pay for the items they had to work in the gardens, for a month. They were elves after all, plants liked them. Even if these elves weren’t gardeners they were quick learners and their elf magic helped significantly. And they were hard workers.

For their cockiness, Jakrin ended up in Yonah’s mouth twice more and swallowed once, but other than that they gave the wizard no trouble. Jakrin avoided getting eaten a third time by working more with Miryan. The other elves managed to avoid such punishment and got along rather well with Yonah, all things considered. He would still tease and lick them.

What did take some convincing was getting the elves to give up some of their blood. Elf blood is very magical, if you extracted it right. They were eventually swayed when they smelled the cookies Yonah had baked that they would get to partake in after giving their blood.

Miryan actually prepared the potion once all of the ingredients were acquired. And sent the bottles with one of the elves back to their village. The time it took to deliver the medicine and return was not counted against their month of servitude.

Eventually it was time to say goodbye and the elves were told they could each pick a ripe golden apple to take with them. The elves thanked them profusely and went on their way.

“I’m kind of sad to see them go,” Miryan waxed sarcastically, “They had a knack for agriculture.”

“Indeed!” Yonah agreed. 

“And they were delicious!”

[FIN]

[Thanks for reading! please reblog! for more mystic woods go to vore-scientist.tumblr.com/tagged/+mystic+woods+story or search ‘mystic woods story’ on my blog! For thief stories only search “MW Thieves”]