#yarrow reads other books

[yarrowleef]

I’m trying to start a collection of every xenofiction book from a cats POV that I can find!! this is my criteria list:

older middle-grade and up fiction stories (maybe some exceptions for children's books if I really like them)

Mostly or only cat POV, not stories about people with cat sidekicks

about actual cats, not a human that shapeshifts into a cat, nor cat-like two-legged humanoids

Focusing on domestic cats and maybe small wild cats, not big cats 

It doesn’t have to be a traditionally published book, but it does have to be something completed that I can buy a copy of

Graphic novels count!

These are the ones I know so far, please let me know if you have any more that I can add! (not listing every book’s sequels, series are presumed to be lumped together)

(also note: I have not read most of these books yet, so I can’t say what kind of graphic/sensitive content they may or may not have. I'm just trying to make as complete a list as I can for personal reference)

Warrior Cats (obviously, this one is a free space)

Varjak Paw -- S.F Said

Tailchaser’s Song -- Tad Williams

The Wild Road -- Gabriel King

Catwings -- Ursula K. Le Guin

Stray -- A.N Wilson

The Book of Night with Moon -- Diane Duane

The Wildings -- Nilanjana Roy

The Tygrine Cat -- Inbali Iserles

The Amazing Maurice and His Educated Rodents -- Terry Pratchett

 The Familiars -- Adam Jay Epstein

In the Long Dark -- Brian Carter

Felidae -- Akif Pirinçci. Unfortunately! but I don’t want to talk about him and no one should buy his work. just adding so people know i’m aware of this book already

The Cats of Roxville Station -- Jean Craighead George

The Traveling Cat Chronicles -- Hiro Arikawa

Blitzcat -- Robert Westall

Cat House -- Michael Peak

Cats in the City of Plague -- A.L Marlow

Guardian Cats and the Lost Books of Alexandria -- Rahma Krambo

Cat on the Edge -- Shirley Rousseau Murphy

I Am a Cat -- Natsume Sōseki

The Alchemist’s Cat -- Robin Jarvis

The Stink Files -- Jennifer L. Holm & Jonathan Hamel

I, Scheherazade: Memoirs of a Siamese Cat -- Douglass Parkhirst

The Mouse Butcher -- Dick King-Smith

Heroes Rising: Book One of Catmage: Genesis -- Meryl Yourish

[lilyharvord]

To the illiterate people with 0 reading comprehension that I have seen on tik tok today claiming that Maven deserved Mare, that it was stupid and "unfair" that he didn't get her, and that clearly with his trauma and what his mother did to him he deserved her:

I would just like to issue a sincere Fuck You to you and any future illiterate children you produce.

[headspace-hotel]

i was outside for a couple hours today looking and watching the birds and looking at every plant and the huge variety of bugs on the plants

When you consider from the tiny, bug sized perspective of a bug, each species of plant...is its own biome

Each species of plant is food for its own specialist species of bugs that can eat ONLY that plant, (or it's close relatives, sometimes) and cannot eat anything else (E.g. Monarch butterflies with Milkweeds)

You can see this with aphids. Aphids that suck juices of Goldenrod are red, aphids of milkweed are yellowish orange, and aphids of curly dock are slate gray

Each species of plant has its own chemicals that protect it from being eaten by bugs that are susceptible, taking away competition for bugs that don't mind the chemicals

THEREFORE...each species of plant has its own characteristic fauna

And beyond that

Each species of plant has its own "terrain" (the structure of the stems and leaves and how they are positioned, what kinds of surfaces they provide to sit on or hide under)

Flowering plants each have their own nectar and pollen and their flowers are structured and colored differently to be specialized for the favored pollinator. (I wish I was a bee so I could taste how different each flower's nectar is...)

Each species of plant's leaves shade against the sun differently, each hairy or smooth stem captures drops of dew differently, and the shapes of leaves and stems and how they branch provides different environments that could be easy or difficult to navigate with wings or with legs.

I notice things I never would have read in books. I notice beetles and earwigs tucking themselves between leaves or in immature flower heads waiting for nighttime. I notice tiny spiders making webs in the underside of a folded leaf. I see ants crawling along the stems up to the flowers to drink nectar, and wonder how a tiny ant brain navigates the complicated 3D maze of stems and leaves.

It would be so time consuming to walk all the way up the stem of each and every flower, so the best plants for ants must be plants where the flowers touch and the ants can walk from one flower to the other. I saw ants on Yarrow and Lilac, and both of those plants are like that, with bunches of flowers close together.

Some bugs like to hang out underneath leaves, others on stems, still others beneath petals...bugs are living entire lives, working and eating and resting and having sex and caring for their young, and they need places to do these things. And when you're as small as a bug a plant is like a huge skyscraper or a whole neighborhood, but each species of plant would have different features and amenities.

So by introducing a greater diversity of plants, it allows for FAR more bugs, which explains the huge increase in bugs i've been seeing, which explains the huge increase in birds.

[vryfmi]

[id: two images of portraits and full body sketches of Lockwood and Co book trio with their mid-teens and early twenties designs next to each other. older Lucy has shoulder length hair, in full body sketch she's wearing a wide-neck sweater with t-shirt underneath, skirt, leggings and boots. older George has shorter hair and a short beard, he's wearing the same round glasses; he's wearing a t-shirt that says "what's more punk than the public library", cargo jeans and sneakers. older Lockwood has sharper features and slightly longer less kept wavy hair. he's dressed casually in jumper, trousers and shoes./end id]

older l&co sketches + george is wearing this shirt

[id from alt text:

same older lockwood portrait but he's wearing glasses. next to him is a comic: Holly, looking delighted, asks "how was the case?" to which equally battered Lucy and George respond "i think Lockwood is losing his Sight", "i think he just needs prescription glasses". in the back on the floor Lockwood is laying face down.

two drawings side by side of Lucy with skull in the jar, top text reads, "bffs across the years". on the left Lucy leans on it and smiles, their ages written near them as 15 and 150. on the right Lucy puts bunny ears at the jar, cobweb around it and a vase with yarrows. there's a plate that reads"RIP", Lucy and skull's age being 25 and 160./end id]

[stalkerofthegods]

Lady Hestia Deep Dive

Lady Hestia is a wonderful goddess, she is always there for everyone, I adore Lady Hestia, I do not worship her personally but I know well that she is Amazing.

Herbs • Chaste trees, Rosemary, Parsley, Basil, Sorrel, vanilla, Cinnamon, coriander, Marjoram, Mint, Lemon balm, cloves, clary sage, Allspice, Angelica, Coriander, poppy seed, chamomile, Angelica, Bay, garlic, mint, peppermint, pepper, marjoram, The lavender, the chaste tree, the datura, the California poppy, the goldenrod, the hollyhock, the yarrow, the purple coneflower, all white flowers, Lavender, White roses, angel’s trumpet, goldenrod, hollyhock, and yarrow, pine, Wildflowers & sunflowers, raspberry leaves, sage, pearly everlasting, yellow rose

Animals• pigs, donkeys, one-year-old cows, a Crane. 

Zodiac & scared number  • unknown, I cannot find out what month she was born on, or the day. But I would associate numbers 1, and 6 because she is the oldest and the youngest (and etc, but who even likes my rambles?)

Colors •Gold, yellow, orange, red,  White, Gold, Lavender, light purple, black, silver, and dark red

Crystal•Carnelian, Garnet, Goldstone, Calcite, Topaz, garnet, amethyst, lapis lazuli, green tourmaline, Vanadinite, Quartz, gold, silver, and brass, Amber colored crystals, citrine, clear quartz, sunstone.

Symbols• a kettle, the hearth (fireplace), torch, candle

Jewelry you can wear in their honor• friendship bracelets 

Diety of• the virgin goddess of the home and hearth fire, cooking of meals, and sacrificial food for feasts, architecture, domesticity, family, and the state, and sacrificial flame

Patron of where the families ate and congregated, hospitality, family.

Offerings• give her prayer beads that remind you of her that are not Christian (or make one, which is better), wooden beads, Oil Lamps, Seven Day Candles (because they burn for 7 days), LED Candles, A Candle that reminds you of home, White or red candles, Apple juice, cider, Wine, Baked goods, keys to the home (preferably not stolen(looking at Hermes devotees))), Small kitchen antiques/objects,  pottery/cups/bowls, artwork of homey things, a meal, your favorite things, poetry, books, items you made, fall-themed stuff, spring-themed stuff, First/last foods & libations from a meal, Candles/flame, Honey, Pork, Cakes or Cookies made to look like one of Her symbols,), Keeping a candle/hearth fire or lamp constantly burning, Pictures of homes you want to live in one day, pictures of homes you have lived in, Pictures of architecture that you like, Teacups, teaspoons, tea towels, Childhood memories (ex- stuffed toys, baby clothes, old photos), Homegrown herbs, Toys or art of donkeys and pigs, Leaves or blooms from a chaste tree, Tea light candles (real or fake), Your favorite poetry or poetry you have written for Her, Your favorite books, Stories you have written, Art of flames, fire, candles, Garmets that you have made such as clothing, blankets, beanies, Homemade lotions, bath bombs, shower gel, bubble bath (You can ask Her to bless them then use them she probably won't say no), Beeswax products, honey, olive oil, pumpkin pie 

Devotional• Pick up rubbish in communal areas, Offer the first or last bites/portions of food your to her, Cooking/baking for yourself or others, Having a candle lit whenever possible (electric or real), playing a video of a fire place, Volunteerring at homeless or DV shelters, donating to homeless or DV shelters,  Setting healthy boundaries with friends and family, reading about Tea/Coffee magick, Getting involved with your local community, Advocating for policies you believe will better the community Allowing yourself to rest,  Do a chore you've been putting off for a long time, organize to hang out with some loved ones, Veil or bind your hair, Wear something red or orange, Make a devotional playlist for her, make a Pinterest board or a mood board for her, Learn about kitchen witchery, Cook a meal in her name, Clean the House, Put together a puzzle, Eat popcorn and watch a movie, do Knitting, read about knitting, donate yarn and

knitting supply’s, prepare food for family, make the table before eating, garden, Harvest berries, pick flowers, Donate to food charity/drives, Support people who lost their homes to natural disasters, Welcoming others into your home, Keeping the peace (especially in the home), Donations of time & money to Habitat for Humanity, Do little (or big) acts of kindness, If you have a fireplace light it for Her or build Her altar around it, Meditate next to a fire, Read poetry or a book, play a playlist for Her and play it while you clean or cooks, Clean your house/room and keep it nice and tidy, Take a cooking or baking class, Collect recipes and keep a recipe book, Host celebrations at your home, Remember your ancestors and learn more about them, Spend time with your pets, Take care of yourself and your mental and physical health (Your body is a home for you),  Take a hot bath, eat some ice cream, chill at home for a day, Pray to Her( ex- for protection, inspiration, happiness, guidance, and help getting rid of negative entities in the home, peace in the home, good food, an abundance of food, independence), help to start/tending to the hearth, work on having strong family bonds, Open your curtains and let the sunlight warm the room, Make a potful of tea and keep it in a large thermos, Watch movies that make you feel nostalgic and cozy, Say goodnight and good morning to her, Get an electric blanket and feel the warmth connect you to her, Cuddle a stuffed animal, Make a blog/journal filled with cozy homely things, Keep a few locally baked goodies nearby for when you need them, String up fairy lights and use them as your only light source, Whisper prayers and devotional pieces before you go to sleep, Use a Himalayan salt lamp to connect to feeling of a fire, Invest in little things (ex- pillowcases, photos, curtains) that make your room feel welcoming and peaceful, Make a little bottle filled with herbs and crystals and other things that remind you of her, Listen to music that makes your soul happy and your heart content, Take care of yourself (ex- Brush your hair, use a wet cloth on your face), Keep a tealight on you, Clean one small area of your house, Savor a hot drink, Do small, unnoticed acts of kindness, Always greet animals (both big and small), Do anything by candlelight,  Wear colors you associate with her, Practice your patience (both external and internal), Be a listening ear or shoulder to cry on for those who need it, Make compromises when it is healthiest for both parties, always have a lighter or matches, Listen to music that reminds you of her, Spend time tending to your body, Leave a big tip the next time you have a chance, Practice kindness in all areas of your life (including driving), Take a hot bath or shower with no time limit, Decorate a space, Build a fire, Compliment people (both strangers and loloved ones), Donate something (ex-clothes, money, or your time), Look at photos and embrace the happy nostalgia, Wear makeup or jewelry that reminds you of her, Wake up early to see the sunrise - or watch the sunset, Watch/read about acts of kindness to be inspired, wear prayer beads that are for her, go to a high school reunion, do a family reunion, do budgeting in her honor, do meal planning, set healthy boundaries, have a household notebook, do seasonal cleaning, try home remedies,As you light your gas stove, say a prayer to Hestia, Spend quiet quality time at home, Gather your family (including your chosen family) for a festive candlelit meal, Commit to spending more time with children and old people.

Ephithets•Äídios - eternal, Aïdius – See Äídios., Basileia - See Vasíleia, Bulaea - See Voulaia., Chloömorphus – See Khlöómorphos, Daughter of lovely-haired Rǽa, Khlöómorphos - verdan, Polýmorphos - multi-formed, Polyolbus – See Polýolvos, Polýolvos - rich in blessings, Potheinotáti - beloved, Prutaneia – See Prytaneia, Prytanei, Vasíleia - queen, Voulaia - of the council, Prytaneia -”of the Prytanis.” 

Equivalents• Vesta (Roman), loki (Norse), Brigid (Celtic), Hathor (Egyptian)

Signs they are reaching out• having a strong urge to Vail in her honor, seeing her animals and symbols in your dreams, and seeing her imagery a lot, everything at home suddenly going well.

Vows/omans• that she “would be a maiden all her days”

Morals• morally light/pure

Courting• None 

Past lovers/crushes• None

Personality• She avoids drama, and is generous, but her temper is volcanic in nature, she is slow to anger, but when she gets angry her rage is a force of nature. She is modest, tranquil, and industrious

Home• Mount Olympus 

Mortal or immortal • immortal 

Fact• Historically she is supposed to be the first deity offered to in a ritual due to being the goddess of fire, she's the oldest Olympian, She is spat out last by Kronos so she is also the youngest, she shares her seat with Diyonisus, she did not give it up, she receives a share of every sacrifice/prayer to the gods, and she is commonly seen alongside with Hermes, I would recommend putting their alters close together.

Element• fire 

Curses• a bad family life, food being burnt, having not enough food, being turned away at restaurants, being homeless, your house catching on fire 

Blessings• all domestic happiness and blessings

Roots• Greek mythology….and she was raised in her father's stomach, and at the first years of theogony era.

Friends• all of the gods, but most notably Hermes, but is not friends with Priapus, she dislikes him (he tried to rape her.) 

Parentage• Cronus and Rhea

Siblings• Zeus, Poseidon, and Hades, Demeter, Hera 

Pet• she has no pets.

Children • she has no children.

Appearance in astral or gen• she was typically represented wearing a veil and robe. In some images, she held a flowering branch or kettle as well.

Festivals • None, at every feast and meal a liberation was made to her name first and last, but I associate Thanksgiving with her, but her Roman counter part Vesta has 1-15 June of each year, an then another festival celebrated on 8-9 July.  Hestia is also mentioned on 8 June. But a neo-pagan sets aside 26 December – 22 January as a month devoted to Hestia.

Status• Virgin theoi goddess.

What disrespects her turning away people at your home (she is a goddess of hospitality and it was seen as disrespectful to her to do so.)

Planet• unknown 

Her Tarot cards• the Temperance, the fourteenth Major Arcana card.

Remind me of• Hot cocoa, and Thanksgiving. 

Scents/Inscene • Lavender, Rose, spring water,  rain, Pumpkin, Apple pie, cinnamon, fall leaves, Chamomile, Myrrh, Frankincense, Iris, Angelica, Peony, Angelica, iris, Sandalwood 

My opinion • I like her, but I'm scared of her too. (what a shocker!) 

Prayers• 

Historical-

Holy Queen of Sanctity, we hymn you, Hestia, whose abiding realm is Olympus and the middle point of earth and the Delphic laurel tree! You dance around Apollo’s towering temple rejoicing both in the tripod’s mantic voices and when Apollo sounds the seven strings of his golden phorminx and, with you, sings the praises of the feasting gods. We salute you, daughter of Kronos and Rhea, who alone brings firelight to the sacred altars of the gods; Hestia, reward our prayer, grant wealth obtained in honesty; then we shall always, dance around your glistening throne.

For the lost -

Blessed Hestia, the first and the last, and the always flame. May your light burn bright and strong, May your prayers be those of respect and love, May you guide the lost, And give to those who have nothing. I give thanks to you, Hestia, for all that you have done And continue to do.

For people with intrusive thoughts -

I ask Hestia, the kind goddess, to help those who feel down. May they find comfort and peace inside of their homes and inside their own minds. Protect them for their destructive thoughts, and be the safe place they need so much

A prayer for homeles—

In Hestia’s name, may you always have a home and a roof over your head. May you always be comfortable and warm with a full belly. May you always be in good spirits and good company, never knowing the pervading loneliness that envelopes the soul.

Morning 

Blessed Hestia, Fill this home with your light and bounty, As the day fills it with golden sunshine.

Evening

Glorious Hestia, Let your hearth fire warm this house, As night draws her shadowed cloak over it now.

Blessings of the kitchen-

Hestia bless my little kitchen, I love it’s every nook And bless me as I do my work, Wash pots and pans and cook. May the meals that I prepare, Be seasoned from above, With thy blessings and thy grace, But most of all thy love

Links/websites/sources •

ts-witchy-archive, constantly-disheveled, saryoak, eldritchhorror06, https://twelfthremedy.tumblr.com/post/625205765818515456/hestia-offerings/amp, https://www.tumblr.com/honeyandhestia/179727039352/offerings-to-hestiahttps://twelfthremedy.tumblr.com/post/625205765818515456/hestia-offerings/amphttps://www.tumblr.com/honeyandhestia/179727039352/offerings-to-hestiahttps://www.learnreligions.com/hestia-greek-goddess-of-the-hearth-2561993#:~:text=Keep%20a%20candle%20dedicated%20to,prayers%2C%20songs%2C%20or%20hymns.https://www.theoi.com/Ouranios/Hestia.html#:~:text=In%20myth%20Hestia%20was%20the,youngest%20of%20the%20six%20Kronides.https://www.theoi.com/Ouranios/Hestia.htmlhttps://greekmythology.fandom.com/wiki/Hestia#google_vignettehttps://greekmythology.fandom.com/wiki/Hestiahttps://greekgodsandgoddesses.net/goddesses/hestia/https://www.hellenicgods.org/festivals-of-hellenismos---eortai https://hestiasservant.wordpress.com/2018/05/27/honoring-hestia-a-festival-every-day/https://www.elissos.com/the-family-goddess-hestia-mother-of-all-gods/#:~:text=The%20birth%20of%20Hestia%20dates,to%20his%20throne%2C%20his%20children.https://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/Rhea_(mythology)#:~:text=According%20to%20Hesiod%2C%20Rhea%20had,and%20Zeus%20in%20that%20order.https://www.reddit.com/r/pagan/comments/14sy8cj/is_hestia_reaching_out_to_me/https://mythopedia.com/topics/hestia

http://persephoneandhecate.blogspot.com/2011/06/exploring-archetypes-hestia.html?m=1https://www.tumblr.com/honeyandhestia/170063420188/bedridden-devotion-to-hestiahttps://honeyandhestia.tumblr.com/post/170063420188/bedridden-devotion-to-hestiahttps://www.tumblr.com/heatherwitch/160613514230/hestiavesta https://constantly-disheveled.tumblr.com/post/156636591525/can-a-hearth-fire-just-be-a-candle-that-you-lighthttps://www.tumblr.com/honeyandhestia/169551188078/devotional-activities-for-hestiahttps://www.tumblr.com/honeyandhestia/167758105763/jar-to-help-me-connect-to-hestia-chamomilehttps://www.tumblr.com/honeyandhestia/171225676313/burn-herbs-and-spices-as-an-offering-to-hestia-i https://www.tumblr.com/honeyandhestia/183383795283/what-kind-of-crystals-would-yall-associate-with https://www.tumblr.com/honeyandhestia/171208375440/a-historical-prayer-to-hestiahttps://www.tumblr.com/honeyandhestia/169394109439/i-ask-hestia-the-kind-goddess-to-help-those-who https://www.tumblr.com/honeyandhestia/166938581678/if-youre-still-doing-prayer-requests-may-you-be https://www.tumblr.com/honeyandhestia/178225408393/lady-hestia-goddess-of-comfort-and-warmth-to https://www.tumblr.com/honeyandhestia/183772520921/a-little-kitchen-prayer-for-hestia https://www.hellenicgods.org/festivals-of-hellenismos---eortai

I use resources, I do not own the info, and most deep dives have UPG (that I use in my work.) And I only take some information from sources. I am 14, this is my hobby, I am learning but I spent many hours and days on this, and I am always open to criticism. I have been doing worship for 5 years. Please know you can use the info, I do not sue, but I will take action if this work is used without permission and not put as a resource if used in any work. without permisson and not put as a resource if used in any work, for the public.

[written-with-blue-ink]

Patrochillies headcanons? Literally any in general, I love these two depressed gay men so much.

Hey! Here are a few headcanons! I love these two gay men so much <3

Patrochilles Headcanons, Hades 1&2

Odysseus is the one who sets these two knuckleheads together. He saw brooding Achillies fawning over Patroclus who wasn’t picking it up at all and set them up.

He picked some yarrow flowers and left a note for Pat to meet his secret admirer at the edge of camp, and left Achilles there for him to confess with a bouquet of the yellowish petals. 

Patroclus started writing poetry because Achilles had terrible nightmares when they were growing up and in the Trojan War and didn’t wanna sleep. Pat’s poems and running fingers through his golden locks were the only things that put Achillies to sleep. 

After Pat died, Achilles kept a scroll/book of all of Pat’s poems and would read it every night instead of sleeping. 

Achilles is really good with braids and other hairstyles. His mother taught him growing up how to take spectacular care of his hair (at least in Ancient Greece where Shampoo was a new invention).

All this led Achilles to do Pat’s hair in large communal baths, braiding it and helping it heal after years of neglect (because Pat seems like the type who doesn’t care about his hair and it fell into tremendous disarray after he died).

The first thing Achillies does when they reunite (after hugging and kissing and crying) is sit Pat down and comb his hair out, dipping the comb into the river Lythe to help wrangle the curls and knots

Achilles, as a child of a sea goddess and related to the sea nymphs, has a heavenly singing voice. Patroclus called it “his siren song” whenever he sang. 

Pat always talked about growing old together so when both of them died, they accidentally chose similar ages (around 50's) because they died around 25ish max.

Achilles has always been extremely protective and cautious around new items, especially if they would hurt Patroculus who was naturally really curious and danger-prone as a child.

After the events of the first game, the two pseudo-adopt Iphigenia (which I headcanon is the Supportive Red Shade).

She chose to look younger (well, younger than she was when she died) by a few years, around 11-14.

They ran into her when they went to watch a match between Zagreus and Theseus, tagging along in her loud and vibrant cheers before they ever realized who she was.

Things were awkward between her and Achilles on part of the whole “thinking they were engaged before the truth came to light that she was there to be sacrificed” thing.

They train her in combat and she tags along with Achilles sometimes to meet Zagreus (who immediately recognizes her and absolutely adores her).

Achilles loves seeing them get along, his pseudo-adopted kids and Pat make his world whole. 

They have monthly nights where they kick Agamemnon’s ass (Achilles' enemy during the Trojan War and Iphigenia’s abusive father for those who don’t know).

[polliwoggers]

been struggling to draw lately so i went through some older stuff of mine and found this, only to realize i never posted it. i don't imagine anybody's still doing stuff for this weird social media-clan au thingy anymore, now that the meme of it has died down, but anybody's free to these names for whatever uses they want, if they want them :)

bonus lore to get it out of my head:

Yarrow-whisker was the previous medic before Quarrypaw, who has yet to gain their full status as a medicine cat in their absence

Geckopaw and Prairiepaw are siblings. Yewtail is only a so-so mentor at the best of times, so Foxfire effectively mentors them both. However, Prairiepaw has swooped in to support Yewtail when they decide to do something stupid and unsustainable on multiple occasions. they really shouldn't have been granted an apprentice tbh. i recently re-read Fire and Ice in the original warriors series so the parallels to Graystripe being a poor mentor to Brackenpaw are intentional

Skypelt came out of retirement to mentor Duskpaw, since they serve such similar real-life purposes. Skypelt doesn't understand everything their apprentice says or does but is generally supportive of such a similar application

Marsh-singer, Whitestep, and Thymeface are all siblings, and are collectively the youngest of the warriors (not accurate to the actual ages of the applications, but eh). to say they are all total gossips would be an understatement. they're also really interchangeable and forgettable. like the Runningwinds of apps.

depending on how positively you want to view the whole "reincarnation" trope some of the canon warriors books have, you could say that Tickpaw is a reincarnation of Musiclight. Otherwise, they just look really similar.

all of the "Cats Outside of Clans" cats are kittypets, with the notable exception of Furzebark, who is a banished rogue with a concerning amount of influence on the Clan(s?). maybe there's a whole band of rogues who are based on insidiously/surprisingly influential applications or online entities! various appstore/playsotre applications could fall under this category, as well as like. roblox, apparently. which is beyond weird to me since that's a game and not a wider application, but it got scarily profitable during lockdown, so...

Redpaw was Yewtail's sibling, but died during their apprenticeship. Probably to the same thing that killed Gravelpounce, but i have no idea what that would be

Flaxflower is generally considered WAY too old to still be alive (since the real internet explorer died a bit ago by now), but since he'd "find a way to be late to his own funeral", he has yet to kick the bucket.

the whole twittypet drama is EASILY the juiciest gossip the clan has had in ages, ESPECIALLY the half-clan checkmark-kits. in-universe, im interpreting the poor management of twitter that's been driving it into the ground irl as a negligent cat owner unintentionally driving their pet to spend more time outdoors with other cats (namely, dashclaw) to get away from them, which resulted in kittens. drummed-up anti-kittypet sentiment aside, many clan cats looking in on the situation just feel bad for her.

Vinewatcher is the most consistently "present" of the StarClan spirits, but is also the most consistently unhelpful. numerous potential prophecies later turned out to just be inside jokes of theirs they decided to continue rehashing into the afterlife. Quarrypaw, having not gotten much experience identifying what makes a legitimate prophecy yet, finds this exceptionally annoying behavior, and would like them to stop. They do not.

[nightbunnysong]

10/50 Day Productivity Challenge

1. Exercise

rest day (i still did some stretching)

2. Reading

30 min (book on stoicism by Brigid Delaney)

3. Academic goals

i repeated out loud to my boyfriend the syntaxonomy of the lithophile systems of high-altitude screes and alluvial deposits.

5. Personal growth

it was a fantastic day in terms of my personal growth. i think i've had a positive and assertive aura all day. i helped with all the tasks i was asked to do without complaining, even though i was a bit annoyed underneath. i'm very happy! i didn't study much, but i still got up at five to read. physically, due to feminine reasons, i had to take the day more slowly than usual. but that's okay; i still got a lot done. for the same reason, i think i had a bigger appetite than usual, but i didn't indulge in junk food or processed foods. instead, i loaded up on fruits, vegetables, and the right carbs to satisfy my hunger.

6. Random chores

vacuum my room

did some research and post articles on the benefits of yarrow and raspberry leaves for female-related issues here on Tumblr

did some research and post an article on local folklore on my other blog

[dapandapod]

Reaching

Hello there! You know when you have not an idea, but a mood, and you also have the words, but not the story, and you just wants the mood to translate into paper? Yeah, that is what happened here haha! Thank you very much @magdelanesingerin for helping me beta read <3 well needed! Please enjoy! <3 On Ao3 here

The fire shines like a beacon between the trees.

Most likely because it is, Geralt muses to himself, as he approaches their little camp through the woods. It is late in the eve already, the clouds hanging sullenly between them and the canopy of night sky that is his usual companion during these nights.

It is more gloomy than usual, though, and he has to take care where he sets his feet. Of course there are things he could do about it, but well.

The Cat potion washes out a lot of colors, and despite its usefulness he rarely drinks it. Geralt prefers to witness the midnight blues, the stars, the dusted purples and pinks stretching infinitely far above.

He enjoys watching how the fire gives their tent, their packs, Jaskier’s hair, all a golden sheen, how the sparks of the flames reflect in the bard’s eyes.

Not that he would tell anyone that is the reason.

It is a fairly calm night, almost no wind to speak of, so the smoke twists and curls around itself up between the branches. It’s a familiar smell, the burning wood, the wet leaves, the greenery and the somewhat humid air.

The light calls him home, and he feels himself longing for it, reaching with all his heart towards it. As if you can catch light with your fingers.

Geralt makes sure to announce his presence with some shuffling steps. He learned the hard way how Jaskier reacts to a fright, and as amusing as it is, that one light grey tunic of his will never recover from the fistful of stew that was flung at it.

“Better than gory innards, at least,” Jaskier had said later with a sniff, shaking his hand from the stinging heat of the stew. “Smells better too.”

This time there is no surprise, and Jaskier looks up from the book he is reading and smiles. The shadows and the flickering light gives his face strong angles, like the rough strokes of a painting, and there is a familiar something curling up in his chest, something warm and pleased.

Geralt enters their clearing, noting the slight tilt of the tent that Jaskier set up, and the canvas spread over the saddle and their bags. Roach stands a bit further away, working on the underbrush, her tail swishing away the insects preying on her.

Jaskier returns to his book, his bedroll spread out a safe distance away from the fire, but close enough to let him read comfortably in the golden light it casts.

Their habits are well practiced by now, there is no need to explain himself, no need to break the companionable silence.

Geralt sits down next to him, carefully extracting his finds from the foraging bag Jaskier got him a year or so ago.

Valerian, thistle, an assortment of roots, Yarrow, and other useful, human friendly finds he keeps picking up for Jaskier, although exactly how human he is is up for debate.

Some of them will be tied together to be dried, and some of them needs to be used immediately, so he leans back and reaches for the saddle bag with his mortar.

The heat of their little campfire warm his knees and his feet and the sliver of stomach that is revealed as his shirt rides up.

He already knows Jaskier’s eyes will be on him as he sits up again, and allows them both another few seconds, pretending not to know which pocket of the saddlebag it’s in.

Indeed, Jaskier is watching him over the edge of his book, eyes following the lines of the shirt across Geralt’s chest, the movement of his hands as Geralt rolls up his sleeves to work.

When Geralt pauses before picking up the first herb, Jaskier’s eyes meet his. For a long moment, they just look at each other, and Geralt pretends that the heat on his face is from the fire warming his skin.

The shadows outline Jaskier’s finger around the book, the dim depths plummeting down his neckline where his shirt is carelessly untied, the corner of his mouth, his brow…

“What?” Jaskier asks quietly, a smile tugging at his lips. For a moment longer, Geralt allows himself to look, the contentment and the longing for what is right there squeezing his heart.

“Nothing,” he says back, just as quietly, returning to his task.

He feels Jaskier’s eyes on him a moment longer, until he hears the flipping of a page. He knows that if he really listens, he will be able to hear the bard’s pulse. It feels like an invasion of privacy, but sometimes, like when he is on potions, he can’t help it.

There is something there, something in Jaskier that reacts to Geralt, even if he doesn’t show it. When he catches Geralt watching him, or when their hands brush, or when Geralt comes up to stand behind him, his back inches from Geralt’s chest.

Such is the dance of theirs, the reaching, but never catching. Like magnets, every move pulling them closer and every shift pushing them apart.

The book Jaskier is reading is not very thick, but well loved. They have both read it many times over, and even when the opportunity to trade or sell comes, this one always stays. A story of knights and wonder and hope and magic and loyalty, the longing for belonging and the home they make together.

A fantasy, but a loved one.

The first drops of rain fall just as Geralt is tying the last herbs together. With a swear, Jaskier hurries to put the book in the safety of the tent before helping Geralt to put their things away and dousing their little fire.

Back under the canvas the mortar and herbs go, and Roach shuffles deeper among the trees for shelter.

The small oil lamp is lit inside the tent as Geralt pours dirt and stomps on the remains of the embers, and the shadows of Jaskier moving about inside the canvas makes him stop and look once more.

Wherever Jaskier goes, he brings that beacon of light with him, Geralt thinks, drawing the witcher’s attention to him. He stands there a moment too long, the rain now picking up to a proper drizzle, quickly soaking his shirt, when Jaskier pulls the tent flap open.

“You coming?” he asks, squinting out into the darkness, spotting Geralt.

Instead of responding, Geralt thinks of reaching, and steps into the light spilling from the tent. There must be something in his face, because Jaskier stays where he is, watching him approach, watching him kneel, and with his free hand does the unthinkable.

Jaskier reaches forward and catches a drop of rain from his cheek, tracing the path down with his thumb as another takes its place.

Reaching and catching, Geralt thinks, finally being let inside the tent, kneeling too close to where Jaskier sits, still holding the tent flap open for them.

Jaskier is lowering the tent flap, shutting out the night and the rain and the dark, when Geralt, too, reaches. More truthfully, he is leaping forward, throwing himself over the edge that he has been eyeing for so long.

Leaning into Jaskier’s space, holding his gaze all the way, the smallest of sounds when Jaskier parts his lips to pull in a breath and reaches for him. Geralt, too, is reaching.

His hand is cold against Jaskier’s cheek, exploring where the shadows once were sharp and deep, they are now smooth and glowing in the lamp light.

Their noses brush together, then again with more intent.

“Why now?” Jaskier whispers, and indeed, why now?

“Haven’t we waited enough?” Geralt whispers back and Jaskier gives the smallest of smiles, resting his hand on Geralt’s leg.

“We have,” he agrees, but still they both linger in that between.

The rain is smattering against the canvas, the air in the tent warming up fast with the both of them in there.

“We should tie up the flaps,” Jaskier whispers, tilting his head and their lips touch by accident.

It sends electric sparks down Geralt’s spine, his other hand comes up to cradle Jaskier’s face, his neck, to brush a thumb along the shell of his ear.

“We should,” Geralt agrees, but instead stands a little higher on his knees, pushing a little closer into Jaskier’s space.

The kiss is soft, lingering. Just a press of lips, catching each other’s breaths as they kiss again.

It takes too long for them to notice that the rain is dripping onto the woolen blanket of Geralt’s bedroll, so they part to finally tie up the bedflaps.

The tent was never big, and the distance that felt unsurmountable before is shrinking into nothing now.

Jaskier lays his head on Geralt’s arm and reads out loud from the book they both love, with Geralt’s hand resting on his stomach.

Change is weird, Geralt thinks to himself as he presses his nose into Jaskier’s hair, enjoying the light shiver it causes, the hitched breath in the middle of his reading as he presses a kiss to Jaskier’s temple.

When the bard’s eyes droop closed at last, Geralt reaches over him and turns off their little lamp.

Jaskier turns into him, curling into his chest in a way that is familiar and unfamiliar all at once.

This, Geralt thinks, is where he always was meant to end up. The beacon of light that finally led him home.

[mothstache]

MINECRAFT STORY MODE HEADCANONS: Part 1

Jesse: 

Jesse idolized the Old Order especially when he was younger. The reveal of the truth by Soren arguably hit the hardest for him.

He found Reuben as a piglet passing by an abandoned farm on his way to town.

He’s always been the most levelheaded member of the group, however if pushed to his limit he can get outwardly aggressive. He feels very guilty about it afterwards.

After the events of Season 2, he stays a few more weeks in Beacontown before leaving to adventure with Petra.

Jesse and Olivia have been friends since childhood.

Jesse was the one to find Axel when they were teens after catching him fleeing a raid.

He’s genderfluid (he/she) and bisexual (slight preference for men).

He’ll grow his hair out pretty long before cutting it really short again.

After Season 2, he gains a phobia of being misunderstood whether through tone or action, due to the Admin mimicking his identity.

He has PTSD from the events of the Wither Storm, though he rarely talks about that period.

While he is super close with everyone in the new Order, he and Olivia can read each other like a book having known each other so long.

After Reuben’s death, Jesse fell into a silent depression for a while and would still leave out food and water for Reuben despite knowing he was no longer with him.

Ellegaard’s death hit horribly hard for him, being what truly shook him to the core for the first time since the creation of the Wither Storm.

Has feelings for everyone in the new Order (especially Lukas).

Was mentored in potion brewing by Ivor for a while.

Olivia:

Olivia’s love of engineering partly came from a few old redstone books passed down to her from her aunt. The title of the author has long since faded, but the books were written long ago by Harper.

She met Jesse when they were kids, having grown up in the same childhood town.

She has anxiety and ADHD.

After Season 1 she developed an even closer bond with Axel, as the two would see the most of each other despite the group going their separate ways.

Ellegaard was her idol since she was a young teen. Her death is something she’ll never get out of her mind.

She has fascination with Endermen (as well as the End dimension in general)

Post-Season 2, she’s one of the top redstone experts in the land.

She has an intense phobia of phantoms.

Olivia had a pet dog as a kid named Yarrow, she and Jesse would play fetch with him for hours on end.

Nell is her best friend outside the new Order.

She is a lesbian and holds romantic feelings for Petra.

She also holds queerplatonic feelings for Jesse, Lukas and Axel.

She’s an amazing cook despite not doing it often anymore.

Olivia and Lukas will sometimes spend hours on end reading history books and documents together.

Lukas: 

Lukas was raised by his grandfather who was a historian, which later would become an interest of his.

Lukas has catfolk blood. The team name Ocelots isn’t just a random thing he chose - it’s unclear if Aiden, Maya and Gill ever knew about its origins.

He’s the best navigator in jungles, and an expert navigator in general with Axel.

He and Petra have been close friends for a long time, since Petra even met Jesse, Olivia and Axel.

Lukas is a bit of a people pleaser, which is how he ended up with friends like Aiden, Maya and Gill. It’s also why he wasn’t good about chastising his friends for their jerkish behavior.

He has Autism and finds himself masking a lot.

He once made a jacket for Olivia with an endermen face embedded into the back, similar to his old ocelot jacket.

He’s a trans man (he/him) and gay.

Holds feelings for Jesse and Axel, and is queerplatonic with Olivia and Petra.

Seeing Petra’s deterioration with their wither sickness was really hard for him. They were always one of the strongest people he knew so seeing them become weaker and weaker terrified him.

He’s good friends with Stacy and Stampy, and the both of them were the first he recruited for the new Ocelots.

He tamed his ocelot Dewey shortly after Season 1.

Axel:

Axel is 15% hisskin. Some of the ways it shows itself physically are the green scales on his neck and shoulders, and him constantly smelling a bit like gunpowder. In addition, if he grows intensely angry or excited, sparks may literally fly out of his mouth when he talks.

Axel considers Jesse his first “real” friend. Prior to their meeting, Axel was part of a gang of thieves who would often leave him to fend for himself, whether because they were meanspirited or neglectful to the youngest of the group or both. When he first befriended Jesse, he was even more temperamental and stubborn, and very quick to do things his own way by habit. Being with Jesse and Olivia helped him to become more trusting and levelheaded, though he retained a lot of his rogue ways.

He has slight thalassophobia that he’s working on.

He has ADHD and BPD.

Axel was initially afraid Lukas would replace him in the friend group. He hated him for how rapidly close he was becoming with Jesse and Olivia, and deep down saw him as a smarter, more logical replacement to him.

VERY good with maps, plus he has a natural sense of direction, especially in caves.

He’s nonbinary (he/they) and pansexual.

Has buried romantic feelings for Jesse and Olivia, along with Petra and Lukas.

Magnus treats him a lot like a little brother, the two love to spar a lot.

After Reuben’s death, he often would try to comfort Jesse to no avail, this caused him an unusual amount of anxiety and grief for both Jesse and his lost pet.

Post-Season 2, he has a more spiked hairstyle and wears a creeper bandana.

Post-Season 2 he tries whenever he can to make time for the old gang to meet up.

He has a pet bat named Batsy. (Yes, this is from the scrapped canon idea)

Petra:

Petra has always adventuring in their blood, having been on the move from place to place since they were a kid.

Petra holds a ton of knowledge about surviving alone in the nether, from experience! As a younger adult their portal once got broken, and they had to spend a few days on her own in the nether till they came across another adventurer who helped them escape.

Despite having never stayed in one place long, they’re naturally extremely loyal to all of their friends. They don’t take losing friendships well.

Enduring the wither sickness took all their might and they can only pray they never have to experience that ever again.

Jack was their first ever idol when they were young. When they heard he was moving to Beacontown they were excitedly rambling to Jesse for DAYS.

They’re transmasc (they/them) and a lesbian.

They have romantic feelings for Olivia, and have queerplatonic crushes on Jesse, Lukas and Axel.

Petra and Axel have occasionally gone out on solo missions, usually for reckless reasons. They come back with tattered clothes and burn marks, but a ton of treasure each.

Petra has Autism and psychosis.

They have asthma, which made the wither sickness even harder on them.

They are stubborn and hate giving up in any situation, viewing it as a personal failure.

[yarrowleef]

i need someone other then me to read this book please it's like it was made for me specifically

these sorts of books violently transport me back to collecting every "scary stories to tell in the dark" type book i could find out of my school library. i really just have such a fondness for middle grade horror because it gets to be casually super f*cked up but it's fine cause it does it in a whimsical charming way

i love how a while back I asked what topics people thought would be too dark for a series like warriors and a lot of people said rabies, meanwhile the next middle grade animal book i pick up has its opening story like "a cute litter of fox kits horrifically contract rabies uwu"

and heartwarming lessons like "sometimes your dad is complete garbage, and you should just kill him"

Beatrix Potter is there for some reason and she is horrifying

also the illustrations and general design of the book are such a vibe (rly, there is an audiobook out there but id recomend getting a physical book, i got mine from the library because it's just so aesthetically pleasing to me and then i immediatley bought it

also i just!! really like the prose! its so pretty and vivid and warm for being a scary book!

look idk how to pitch books because its easy to write an essay complaining, but when i like something all my brain comes up with is "book...good.." but....yeah, book good, i enjoyed it v much

[444borntodie444]

about me ౨ৎ

my name is Sonya, was born: 10.09. (sign of the zodiac Virgo) I live in a very small town

I love to read, write poems and short stories, study the Yarrow, psychology, fashion and various historical theories

music: Lana Del Ray, Crystal Castles, Cigarettes after sex, Arctic Monkeys, The Smiths, TV girl, Lil Peep, Girl in red, Billie Eilish, Mitski and others

what makes me who I am: caramel and cinnamon coffee, cigarettes, deers, lambs, uggs, blonde hair, spicy smells, tattoos, many books, candles, poems, long nails, watching Disney and Tim B. cartoons at night, spending all the money on makeup and clothes, Lana Del Rey

English is not my native language, sorry if something is written incorrectly

my pinterest:

[citrineandrosmarin]

30 Days of Deity Devotion - Athena

Day 10: Offerings, Historical and UPG

(Feel free to comment your own additions!)

Minerals

Sodalite, Lapis Lazuli, Fluorite, Gold, Blue Aventurine, Bronzite, Blue Calcite, Iolite, Kyanite, Lepidolite, Moonstones, Obsidian, Onyx, Smoky Quartz, Tourmalinated Quartz, Ruby, Snowy Quartz, Tiger Eye, Tiger Iron, Zoisite

Plants

Olive, Rosemary, Mint, Thyme, Orange, Cypress, Ivy, Oregano, Yarrow, Oak, Peppers, Basil, Pine, Marigold, Dandelion, Geranium, Tiger Lily, Hellebore

Incense and Candle Scents

Most aromatic herbs, Dragon’s Blood, Musk, Cedarwood, Cinnamon, Pine, Frankincense, Myrrh, Oakmoss & Amber, Blood Orange, Apple & Cinnamon, Peppermint & Nutmeg, Orange Cinnamon and Clove, Vanilla, American Rosewood, and the incenses "Tree of Life", "Pagan Spell", and "Celestial Bliss"

Food and Drink

Olives and Olive oil, Water, Diluted Wine, Grapes, Honey, Bread, Cakes, Most Fruit, Fish, Rooibos (Redbush) Tea, Mint Icecream, Raspberry, Chocolate, Red Grapefruit, Cheese, Cookies

Items

Candles (Particularly blue or white ones)

Any kind of craft such as crochet, knitting, pottery, sculpture, etc.

Books, especially non-fiction

Art of any kind

Snake shed

A playlist or moodboard dedicated to her

Any study materials such as pens, notebooks and dedicated devices

Grades and Documentation related to your studies

Any imagery of her or her symbols

Devotional Acts

Cultivating intellect - Research. Studying. Reading non-fiction. Watching documentaries or video essays. Reading essays on topics you're interested in. Learning or practicing a skill. Developing critical thinking skills. Developing debating skills. Learning about her, mythology, or ancient Greek society.

Utilizing intellect - Strategy games. Coding. Planning of any kind, especially business-related. Being inventive. Tutoring. Teaching your friends about something.

Crafting - Weaving, knitting, crochet, macrame or other textile crafts.

Physical Cultivation - Exercise. Going to the gym. Learning self-defense or a martial art. Learning stage combat. Doing an archery or sword fighting course.

Activism - Researching and supporting just causes. Attending a protest. Uplifting the voices of those who are often silenced. Signing petitions. Learn about the gender pay gap, glass ceilings, class cliffs, etc.

Justice & Law - Learn about your rights. Jury Duty. Learn about how the justice system works and how it does not work. Voting.

Miscellaneous - Using olive oil. Learn about her sacred animals. Meditation. Donating to LGBTQIA+ organizations. Colony sim games such as Civilization.

[ohforficsakelibrary]

You Brought Me Poison Flowers

Chapter 4: Echinacea - Echinacea was used by American Indians* as an offering to spirits to ensure and strengthen spells.

prev / series masterlist / masterlist

Series Summary: Joel and Ellie settle into life in Jackson, one more easily than the other, until Joel is reminded of what normal feels like. The kind of normal that he perhaps never had. A series of one-shot glimpses into a relationship (no true plot here, people.) Soft!Joel. Two touch-starved babes. Slow-ish burn.

Chapter subtitles taken from Cunningham’s Encyclopedia of Magical Herbs by Scott Cunningham. Although herbal preparations are consistent with historic uses, nothing herein is to be construed as medical advice.

Pairing: Joel Miller x Herbalist!OFC (age-appropriate age gap)

Word Count: ~6.9K

Rating: Explicit 18+ overall, no smut in this part, but if you're a fan of the one sleeping bag trope you may enjoy this. Minors DNI.

A/N: Of snake bites and chilly nights and subconsciously cradling someone in your sleep.

I know next to nothing about horses and my apologies if anything is off on that front. Again, get thee to a doctor or a vet and don't rely on fanfiction you read one time. You live in a world with antivenom.

I think I've messed with the timeline of Tommy's arrival in Jackson a bit, so your squinting and ignoring that is much appreciated.

*Cunningham's original terminology, not mine

Joel decides to swing by the shop in the late afternoon when he's back from patrol.

He has to return the book he finished, he needs more coffee, and he found real yarrow today to trade for it. He’s sure this time.

You know. Lest anyone think he's here because he spilled all over himself thinking of her last night.

“Hey, Joel,” Lennie calls from where she’s bent down to better see the level of liquid she’s pouring into a brown dropper bottle. Mrs. Spencer stands at the bar and throws a wave at him over her shoulder that he politely returns as he takes a seat at the large table.

Lennie mixes two more liquids into the jar and turns it over.

“Four to five drops, four times a day. Throw it in a glass of water if the taste is too strong. If he’s not feeling any better in three to four days, swing back and I’ll see what I can do.”

Mrs. Spencer accepts and passes over three beeswax taper candles in return before her absence sees the two of them alone in the shop again. 

Joel crosses the floor with flowers and book in hand as Lennie caps and returns jars to the shelf behind her.

“I got it right this time,” he says, self-satisfied smirk on his face. 

“So you did,” she grins.

“But I will need some more of your coffee in return.” He sets his empty jar in front of her.

“Done.” 

She makes quick work of refilling the jar. Too quick.

Because now they’re done here and his brain is dancing through excuses to stay. 

“Hey, Joel?”

He looks up from where he’s been watching her fingers bind yarrow with twine. 

“Yeah, Lennie?”

“Would you consider, maybe, ha…”

Ellie bursts through the front door, breathless.

“Lennie, Tommy’s horse got bit, they need you.” She sucks in gasps of air. An emissary sent to deliver bad news.

They both tense.

“Where, Ellie?” Lennie finds her wits before Joel.

“Out by…”

“No, where on her did she get bit?”

“I dunno exactly…”

“Face or legs.”

“Face, from the sound of it.”

“Ah shit.” Lennie drops behind the bar, filling the air with the clank of clattering metal and scraping wood. “How far behind you are they?”

“Maybe five minutes.”

“Ellie, is Tommy ok?” Joel pipes up. He’s not sure what exactly did the biting, but he has an idea. Rattlers aren’t uncommon around these parts. 

“Yeah, he’s fine,” she has her hands on her knees now.

Lennie reappears and swings around the bar, two clear tubes in her hand.

“Ellie, remember that plant I showed you? Broad leaves, grows in a rosette?”

“Plantain, yeah.”

“I need you to gather as much of it as you can,” she tosses a canvas bag to Ellie, “the biggest leaves you can find, rip the whole thing out if you have to. Do that now, go.”

Immediately, Ellie is out the door.

“Joel, grab me a pint jar and lid off that back shelf,” she cocks her head towards the sink as she pulls a massive half-gallon mason jar from a shelf above her head.

“I got it,” Joel picks up on her train of thought and moves behind the bar to decant the brown liquid into the smaller jar while she grabs scraps of cloth and a spoon and stuffs them into the pockets of her jeans.

There’s a commotion outside and she grabs the tubes. Joel grabs the jar and follows her out the door. 

“Where’d she get bit, Tommy,” Lennie asks, taking the horse’s reins from him. It’s redundant, she can see the swelling already beginning on Gloria’s muzzle. 

“Her nose, we were out at the dam on foot, had the horses tied up, and we think it took her by surprise in the grass.”

“You bring it?”

“In my bag, she stomped it real good.”

“Alright, you know what I’m gonna ask for when this is over.” 

“Get my girl through and it’s all yours.” 

“You okay?” Joel nods at Tommy.

“Yeah, man.”

Tommy is concerned, but calm. Something about it tugs at Joel but he doesn’t have time to register why.

The rest of the patrol team has closed in now and townspeople are beginning to filter into the street, whispers of what happened pinging through the crowd. Maria emerges from the laundromat, baby strapped to her chest, and comes to stand near them.

Lennie absently hands off the tubes to Joel.

“Okay, okay, hey sweet girl,” she coos as the horse flares its nostrils in an attempt to suck in breath. She immediately starts unbuckling the bridle and hands it to whoever takes it, Tommy this time. “It’s okay momma, I’ve got you.” She presses her forehead to the white star between the horse’s eyes and pauses for a moment. 

Joel swears Gloria relaxes and presses her head back against Lennie.

“Ok, G, this is gonna suck, but I have to put these tubes in your nose, ok? We have to make sure you can breathe, sweet girl. Joel, let me get those,” Lennie gestures to the tubes. 

“Tommy, Joel, hold her steady, yeah? She goes to strike, back away. She goes to rear, let her. She’s gonna toss her head a bit, that’s fine, let her do what she needs to.” Lennie holds one tube between her teeth and rubs her free hand under Gloria’s chin.

Joel hands the jar of liquid to Maria and positions himself against Gloria’s left shoulder, one hand in her mane, the other around the front of her neck, while Tommy moves around the opposite side to mirror his pose, grabbing the saddle horn. Lennie stands first on Joel’s side, gently passing her fingers over Gloria’s right nostril, telegraphing what she’s about to do. 

“On three, boys,” it’s muffled through the tube in her mouth as she braces one leg behind the other. “One, two, three.”

Lennie passes one tube cleanly up Gloria’s right nostril before the horse has time to react. All three of them manage to get clear while she tosses and shakes her head at the intrusion.

“Okay, one more.” They each take their positions again and Lennie moves to stand on Tommy’s side to repeat the process. Everyone manages to get clear before Gloria strikes and stamps as she shakes her head. 

“More sensitive on that side, hold on to her,” Lennie nods at Tommy who again grabs the saddle horn. She’s left an inch and a half of tubing protruding from each nostril and Gloria snorts a few times before her breathing evens out.

“I got it!” Ellie comes running out from behind the laundromat and straight to Lennie, thrusting the canvas bag into her hands.

“This is perfect, Ellie, thank you,” she rips off a handful of leaves and shoves them into her mouth. “Find me two or three of the biggest single leaves you can out of that,” she mumbles through a full mouth and hands the bag back over. “Joel, soak two strips of that cloth in tincture for me.” He takes the wad of linen from Lennie and the jar from Maria and returns soaked fabric.

“Hold her, Joel,” she tips her chin towards the horse and Ellie takes the contents of his hands before Joel again presses his chest to the horse’s shoulder, wrapping his arms around her neck.

Lennie squeezes liquid from one cloth into the horse’s mouth and gestures to Ellie for leaves, which she arranges on the wrung out cloth. She spits into the leaves and squeezes the fresh cloth into the poultice. 

“Alright, sweet girl.” Lennie gingerly wipes the bite down before pressing the poultice against it.

Gloria again relaxes into her hand.

Maria makes eye contact with Tommy as the baby starts to fuss. He nods and Maria slips away.

“Okay, sweet girl. Okay. Let’s get her back to the stable.” She keeps her hand over the poultice as she and Tommy guide the horse back home, Joel and Ellie following close behind.

When she’s settled back into her stall, Lennie applies more tincture to the cloth to keep the poultice in place.

“I’ll have to re-dose her every hour and refresh the poultice at about the same. It’ll be a long night, but she’ll be just fine, Tommy.” Lennie reassures. “You all should head out to Mess before they stop serving.”

“You should go first, I’ll stay with her.” Tommy chimes in.

“Tommy, you know I can’t leave her.”

He searches Lennie’s eyes. He’s known her long enough to know that she cares too much.

“Alright, alright ok. I’ll bring dinner back for you.”

“Show me her feed too, I’m sure she’s hungry.”

Tommy and Lennie abscond to another part of the stable leaving Joel and Ellie to exchange looks.

Neither of them have any idea what’s going on, and yet both can see that Lennie knows exactly what she’s doing.

“Plantain soothes and repairs tissue,” Ellie offers, echoing what Lennie had taught her. “By the way, why were you in the shop today?”

“I needed more coffee.” 

Ellie nods in a way that tells him she doesn’t fully buy into his story.

“Alright, Ellie, you come with me, we’ll go get dinner, Joel, you don’t mind staying to help Len, do you? We’ll bring food back for you both.” Tommy directs. 

Lennie glances quickly at Joel and then at Tommy. She knows what’s going unsaid.

“Yeah. Yeah of course.” Joel says.

“Bring extra apples.” Lennie calls after them and runs a hand through her hair.

Lennie and Joel work in comfortable silence to remove Gloria’s saddle and feed her dinner mixed with tincture by hand to keep her from upsetting the tubes in her nose. When they’re through, Joel brushes her down as Lennie refreshes the poultice.

Tommy and Ellie return an hour later with two trays of beef stew and bread, apples piled on each. After Lennie reassures Tommy that there’s nothing he need do here tonight, he stretches and rubs the back of his neck before pulling Joel aside.

“Hey, uh, I hate to put this on you, but are you good to stay with her tonight? Here, to help her? I don’t want to leave Maria to take care of the baby on her own for too long, otherwise I’d do it. If not, it's not a problem, knock on my door when you tap out and I’ll come down…”

“Tommy, it’s fine, whatever you two need. I’ll stay and help her out, it’s not a problem.”

“Alright. Alright, ok,” Tommy scrubs one hand down his face and claps Joel on the back with another.

“Ellie, you should head out too,” Joel tosses his head in Tommy’s direction. 

“Are you kidding me? Len’s treating a fucking rattlesnake bite, you think I’m gonna miss that?”

Joel glances at Lennie, who shrugs and takes a seat on the floor to start on dinner. 

“Alright fine. You can stay through the next dose but then you have to head home to bed. It’s getting late.”

“Deal,” she gently strokes Gloria’s back before moving to her face, whispering soft sweet words to the horse.

With that Tommy excuses himself to home to help Maria with the baby. 

Joel takes a seat on the floor next to Lennie to start on his own dinner. She slips her hunk of bread onto his tray.

It feels blissfully intimate in the moment. 

Comfortable.

Normal.

“So what’s in that?” Ellie points at the jar of liquid laying nestled in hay next to Lennie.

“Echinacea tincture," she says between bites. "Rattlesnake venom causes tissue necrosis.” Ellie squints. “It eats away at tissue, killing it off. That contains a compound that stops the reaction. It also increases white blood cell activity, helping the body to heal itself,” Lennie answers between bites of food. “And plantain…”

“Heals tissue.” Ellie finishes

“You got it,” Lennie’s smile is bright.

“And you chewed them up and spat them out because…”

“Breaks down the plant,” Joel chimes in. 

“Yeah, I know how chewing works…”

“No, he’s right. It breaks the plant down and makes beneficial compounds more accessible.”

“Spit poultice," Joel mumbles through a mouthful of bread.

“Oh. Cool. Then what are the big leaves for?”

“Holds everything together, keeps the cloth from absorbing liquid out of the poultice. Want that juice to stay on the bite.”

Ellie has moved to Gloria’s face now, “and the tubes are because… her nose swelled up. These keep her airway open if it swells more.” She cuts a glance down at Lennie who nods, and then sneezes.

Ellie and Joel both give their blessings, while Lennie answers, “sorry.” 

“And you’ve done this before?”

“Maybe…twelve times on horses?”

“On other things too?” Ellie arches an eyebrow.

“Three goats, four sheep, one dog, two cows,” Lennie squints one eye as though it helps her remember.

“Any people?” Ellie comes to sit beside her.

“Nah they probably save the antivenom for people.” Joel chimes in.

“There is no antivenom, Joel.”

“What.”

“There hasn’t been for fifteen years. It’s incredibly unstable as it is and has to be kept refrigerated which, there goes most stock after the collapse. What survived went to the QZs in areas where it made sense and even then, it has a short shelf-life. Plus, no one wanted to use horses to make more, they became too valuable.”

“So you’ve done it with people,” Ellie leans to look across Lennie’s tray at Joel.

“Two people have been bitten in my time here. They’re both still here, no lasting damage,” Lennie grabs an apple and unsheathes her knife.

“That’s amaz…” Joel starts.

“Fuckin awesome!” Ellie finishes. “How did you learn all of this?”

“Books, mostly. And desperation, probably,” Lennie answers as she slices, arranging the cut pieces on the side plate where her bread was. “Hand me that, Ellie?” This about the jar of tincture. She uses her clean spoon to drip liquid onto each slice before handing the plate to Ellie. “Wanna feed her those?”

“Hell yeah.”

“Careful of the poultice,” Joel calls after Ellie as Lennie sneezes again, twice this time. “You okay?”

“Yeah. I’m allergic.”

“To horses.”

“Horses. And dogs. Cats. Cows.” Lennie smiles and reaches into her pocket for a brown dropper bottle to place a few drops under her tongue. “I’ll live.”

Joel cannot help but smirk.

“So what would you use for a bee sting?” Ellie hands the plate back to Lennie and Joel collects the trays.

“Bee balm.”

“Okay. Fine, makes sense. A sunburn?”

“St. Johns Wort.”

“Broken bones?”

“Jane down at the hospital would set them, and then boneset and comfrey all day, internally and externally.”

“Boneset.” Ellie is struck by the simplicity of it. “Okay, chicken pox?”

“They still have that?” Joel returns to the stall.

“Yeah it went around FEDRA school when I was like eight.”

“Safflower, black cohosh, plus probably some other things externally for the itching. Calendula, chamomile. It’s a virus, so something like yarrow wouldn’t hurt.”

“Constipation.” Ellie draws out each syllable with an arched brow, earning a scowl from Joel.

“Slippery elm, marshmallow root, that one depends on what caused it.”

“Stinky feet.” She’s getting more ridiculous in an effort to trip Lennie up.

“Oak bark.”

“Syphilis.”

“Ellie!” Joel barks.

“Haven’t encountered that one yet but there’s an old sailor’s remedy of burdock, yarrow, parsley, comfrey, and yellow dock that I read about once. Thistle was also used in these parts.”

“Wow.” Ellie seems to have run out of random medical conditions, and leans back against the wooden walls of the stall.

“Back pain?” Joel offers from the corner.

“Nerves or muscles?”

“Uh. Muscles?”

“Arnica,” she makes note to pass him some oil tomorrow.

“So you have to be here all night?” Ellie says.

“In the first few hours, the frequency of dosing helps. That swelling hasn’t gotten worse, and by tomorrow it should be reduced if we keep this up until morning. Horses are sturdy, she’ll bounce back just fine.”

“Is there anything you need? From the shop? I can run and grab it for you?” Ellie offers.

“Actually, a coat would be great if you don’t mind. Grab one for your dad too.”

Ellie doesn’t correct her and Joel notices.

In the commotion of the afternoon Lennie had run out into the street in a Rolling Stones t-shirt and jeans, and the setting sun had taken its heat with it. The barn was still warm, but it wouldn’t be for much longer. “And if you could lock her up for me? The bigger brass one is the deadbolt.” Lennie passes Ellie a ring with three keys.

When Ellie slips out, Joel realizes he feels like an idiot for not having a flannel to offer her. He had been similarly stuck with just his t-shirt and was grateful she had the foresight to consider him as well.

“I can grab a blanket if you’re…”

“I’m okay for now, thanks.” She offers him a soft smile from across the stall.

Joel moves to sit near her, offering his heat in lieu of fabric.

“Did you break this at some point?” Lennie points to his right hand, “I noticed you clench and shake it sometimes.”

“I uh. Think I might have. Like a year ago, thought it was a hairline. Still bothers me when I use it too much–probably didn’t heal right.”

“May I?” He nods and she shifts to face him, taking his right hand between her palms and he hisses a sharp inhale. Her eyes jump to his, searching them for signs of pain. “Does that hurt?”

“No.”

Being touched and being burned just have the same effect nowadays.

“Do you get tingling? Pins and needles?”

“Not, not really.”

“Okay, tell me if any of this hurts, yeah?” Joel nods and she feels around, applying deep pressure down into the bones of his hand and then up through his wrist before lacing her fingers through his and putting her other hand on his elbow. “Relax, Joel,” she shakes the hand that’s entwined with his and angles big eyes up at him, noting his features are wrought through with tension. She takes him through a full range of motion, feeling how the bones shift under muscle.

“Do you want me to stop?”

He doesn’t realize how tight his features are. 

“No. Sorry, I’m just not used to…”

A soft “yeah,” falls from her lips. 

She unlaces her hand from his and he very nearly reaches for her again, but luckily she returns contact, palm to palm, supporting his hand. “Tell me if there’s anywhere you have diminished sensation?” She taps around, just behind the knuckles of his index finger, then behind the knuckles of his pinky, just above the nails of his index and middle finger, then strokes feather-light over areas of the back of his hand before flipping his hand over and repeating the process. 

“All feels the same, I think.”

“Okay good. No bad nerve damage. Your wrist and thumb are jammed up though.”

“Great,” he huffs, thinking it’s yet another thing he can thank getting old for.

“Can I adjust it for you?”

“Do what?”

“Adjust it. Definitely won’t fix it entirely, but might help.” 

“I mean, I guess, yeah. If you can.”

“Stand up for me?” They both do, and Lennie takes his left arm and guides his hand to rest just above the ditch of his right elbow. “Hold that there and relax your arm.” She holds his wrist with both hands, shaking it out before giving it a quick, controlled jerk, pressing down with both thumbs.

There’s a crack and Joel moans.

“Umm, what the fuck’s going on here?”

Ellie’s rounded the corner, jackets draped over her arm. Joel and Lennie look up. He’s sure he’s red in the face but to his own surprise, he doesn’t make a move to yank his hand back. 

“Your dad has an old hand injury that I’m adjusting. Wanna see?” 

“Yeah,” Ellie drops the jackets and Lennie’s keys on a square bale of hay and comes to stand with them both. 

“I’ve just done his wrist where one of the bones was jammed up, and his thumb is a little out of whack, so I’ll do that now,” she looks up and searches Joel’s eyes.

She swears there’s less tension knotting his features. Joel offers a small nod and bites the inside of his cheek lest he make another obscene sound. 

“Alright, deep breath, three, two,” on “one” she applies pressure at the base of his thumb and there’s another smaller pop. “See how that feels?”

Joel flexes his fingers and rotates his wrist before shaking his hand out and repeating the motions. 

“It’s actually. A bit better.”

Lennie smiles as she makes her way over to the coats. Ellie brought her sweatshirt as well and she slips it on before taking a seat. 

“What is that, how did you learn to do that?” Ellie plops down next to her.

“I traveled with a chiropractor for about a year and she taught me a few things. It’s subtle manipulations to encourage bones back into their proper positions.”

“No shit. Were you a doctor before this?” Ellie’s eyes go wide.

“Very much not, no,” Lennie almost smiles.

“What did you do before?”

“Ellie…” Joel softly chides.

“No, it’s okay,” Lennie rakes a hand through her hair. “I was a lawyer.”

“Like Maria?”

“There are a few of us here. And yes and no. I wasn’t the kind of lawyer that goes to court. ”

She leaves it at that and Ellie doesn’t ask because she’s not really sure what it is that lawyers do that’s not putting people in jail.

“Is chiropractic something you do here?” Joel changes the subject, joining them on the floor, still flexing his hand in the way you do when you’re suddenly too aware of one part of your body.

“Only in extraordinary circumstances. Don’t really like touching people.”

Says the woman who pressed her ear to his bare chest when he might have been dying. 

“Hands and feet are usually okay, but spines get pretty, physical. That’s where I kind of tap out. Adjusted plenty of animals though. Actually did Gloria a few weeks ago.”

“Speaking of,” Joel starts, “I think she’s due for a poultice change, and then you need to get off to bed,” he nods at Ellie.

“Can I do it?” Ellie asks.

“Of course.” Lennie guides her through the steps, but she’s been watching closely and picks it up with ease. When she’s done, she puts up a fight about leaving.

“Ellie, I’m not gonna ask again, that was the deal.” Joel is kind but firm.

“Fine.” Ellie kicks at some hay, “but come sunrise, I’m coming straight back.”

“I’d expect nothing less.” Joel accepts the hug Ellie gives him and he kisses the top of her head. She spins on her heel intending to give Lennie one too before remembering.

“Hugs are okay, Ellie,” Lennie smiles and Ellie obliges.

Joel notes how Lennie still holds her breath.

“Remember what her nose looks like, yeah? We’ll be counting on you to give us your honest opinion on how it looks in the morning.” 

“I only do honest opinions,” Ellie winks as she backs out of the stall. “You two have fun.”

Lennie sneezes twice again when she’s gone and Joel smirks.

“Bless you.”

“And what exactly about that amuses you Miller?” Lennie teases.

“You’re basically the town vet and you’re allergic to everything with four legs.”

Lennie laughs. “Needs must,” she manages before another sneeze and she digs into her pocket for the dropper bottle again. 

Lennie checks on Gloria’s breathing, holding her hands in front of the tubes, feeling each strong, warm breath against her palms, then feels around for her heart rate with fingers pressed under her jaw. Joel watches, arms crossed over his chest, less looming and more a protective presence.

“She’s all good,” Lennie concludes, making her way over to the coats. It’s probably down to forty outside and it’s only gone ten o’clock. “Might want to grab her blanket, though.” She says handing the larger coat to Joel, who gratefully accepts.

He does wonder why she has a coat that seems fit for a man much taller than him, but thinks better of asking, opting to pull a blanket from the shelf across from the stall.

She dons her own coat and helps him buckle Gloria in.

Lennie shoves her hands in her pockets when she’s through, and the ring on her pinky clinks against something metal.

“Ooohhhoho yess,” Lennie pulls out a flask with bright eyes and grins.

“Fancy some gin?”

“Oh hell yeah,” Joel sits, back braced against a bale, legs outstretched and Lennie sits in front of them, her back against the stall wall as the flask passes between them.

“I still can’t believe you make that.”

“Yeah, swing by and I’ll show you some day,” she lets her head fall back against the wood and breathes deep. 

Joel’s eyes trace the column of her throat and he opens his mouth before his staring gets him in trouble.

“So— a lawyer?”

“Yeah,” the word comes out on a sardonic laugh. “Could not have picked something more useless,” she looks over at him with a smile.

Joel returns her mirth. “What kind of law?”

“Corporate,” and they both smile again. “Mergers and acquisitions. Did it for a year and a half out of law school, absolutely fucking hated it. Like, seriously questioned if I even wanted to be in the profession any more.” She takes another sip and passes the flask to Joel.

“Yeah that sounds,” he pauses trying to be polite, “pretty fuckin dismal.” He can’t.

“But then the world fucking ended, so. Kind of made that decision for me.” Joel holds her stare, a smile playing on his lips as he takes another sip.

“Where’d you go to law school?”

“No, you’re gonna laugh.”

“Don’t say Harvard.”

Lennie presses her lips together and scrunches her nose.

“NOOO,” Joel rumbles, brown eyes open wide as they both erupt in a fit of laughter.

“Didn’t have to worry about paying back student loans though,” Lennie lifts the flask in a kind of salute to the universe.

“So how the hell did you end up doing this?”

“Don’t really know. Had a passing interest in it and an undergrad in biology. Kind of made sense, I guess. I read fast and retain stuff pretty well, so I guess I can thank law school for that much.” Lennie passes the flask back to him and lays on her side at Joel’s feet, propping her head up on crossed arms.

“What about you?”

He hesitates for a moment and she sees something flash in his eyes.

“It’s okay, you don’t…”

“I was a contractor. Never finished college,” he takes a swig.

“You did something useful then.”

“Yeah. Yeah I guess.”

It’s sore here, and Lennie moves on.

“So what does Joel Miller like to do for fun?”

He holds her gaze and pauses a moment, fingers fiddling with an engraving on the flask—he can’t tell what. And he can’t remember what fun is.

“It’s a weird question, I know.”

“Used to like swimming, I guess. Hiking. Playing guitar,” he considers carefully before the next word, “singing.”

“No shit. I'd love to hear that. At some point. I won't put you on the spot now.”

“Yeah, alright,” he smirks and stands, handing the flask back down to her as she sits up. “I got the next dose,” he grabs an apple from their stash and cuts it up and she brings the jar of tincture to dose the slices. Joel handles changing the poultice and returns, sitting next to her this time.

They fall into easy conversation as they split the remainder of the gin. Favorite movies, sports teams, music. All the beauty of before and none of the baggage that crowds the room whenever he and Tommy try for the same.

They manage one more change before sleep starts to creep in.

“She’s doing well, we can probably push it out to two, get a little bit of sleep. It’s midnight now.”

“Yeah,” Joel scrubs a hand down his face, “yeah that’s a good idea.”

Lennie sets an alarm on her watch and Joel takes the other side of the stall. He watches as Lennie curls up into the hay, resting her head on her arms, legs pulled up tight to her chest. He watches as her breathing evens out to slow deep lungfuls. Watches as her features relax, eyes tracing her brow, where her eyelids flutter, the soft part in her lips because her nose is stuffed up, down to where the curve of her hip only just peeks out from underneath her jacket.

He flexes his hand again not out of pain, but longing to trace everywhere his eyes have just tread. He mirrors her pose and drinks her in, her wild halo of dark curls the last sight he remembers before sleep takes him.

_____

There’s a soft chime creeping in on tendrils of consciousness two hours later, and he wakes with a start. Lennie quickly gets to her feet and she’s cutting an apple by the time Joel brings her the jar of tincture. 

At some point she’d piled more hay up around her. It’s sticking to the corduroy collar of her coat. Strands of gold grasped in the tendrils of her black hair.

“Thanks,” she sniffs, congestion a little worse than before.

They work in silence, he starts chewing plantain as she feeds Gloria slices wet with medicine. As he finishes refreshing the poultice he hears Lennie’s teeth clack. He looks over and realizes she’s shivering. 

“Lennie,” Joel clasps the hand that’s not holding the tincture jar in palms that dwarf hers. She’s ice. 

“You’re fucking freezing.”

“It’s fine, Joel,” she leaves the jar in his hands and her fingers tremble as she sets her watch alarm again, digits nearly too numb for the buttons.

“No, no it’s not,” he storms out of the stall to raid the pile of blankets, settling on a waxed cotton one that wouldn’t hold on to horse hair.

“Lay down, Len,” he nods at her little hay pile when he storms back in.

“At least buy me dinner first,” she quips followed by a sniffle. She takes a few more drops of whatever she’s been using for allergies before complying.

Joel waits for her to settle into a comfortable position before gently placing the blanket over where she’s cradled in hay.

He grabs whatever’s on the top of the blanket pile for himself before settling in to his spot opposite her again.

He can still hear shuddering breath.

Fuck it.

He stalks over to her and mumbles “scoot.” She sits up and shuffles away from the wall and he unzips the front of his coat. “Flip this,” he pulls the zipper on her jacket and helps her put her arms through it backwards before folding himself in behind her so the heat from his chest can warm her back. 

He’s careful, however, to keep his hips well away. 

Joel pulls the canvas blanket up over them, suddenly unsure of where to put his arms. He extends one above his head and lays the other awkwardly along his side.

“Thank you,” she whispers. It takes two minutes for shivering to slow and another three for her breath to even out.

He knows because he’s counting the fucking seconds. He hadn’t thought this through.

She was cold and he hadn’t thought this through.

If last night knew what today was.

It’s torture, this frigid lover’s embrace.

_____

Two hours worth of seconds finds him molded to her in slumber. One arm has snaked under her to support her head, right through the gap where her neck meets her shoulder. Hips are pressed flush, one of his legs tangled between hers. One massive palm splays against her stomach. 

His nose is buried in her hair.

Soft chimes wake him to the smell of cedar, lavender, hay, and her.

He breathes in deep and reflexively pulls all of her in before she tenses against him and he springs away.

Fuck, fuck, FUCK.

“Shit, I’m sorry,” he’s on his feet as she blearily props herself up to sitting.

He’s already chewing plantain and hacking away at an apple with his knife when she brings him the jar of tincture, jacket still on backwards.

She’s not speaking.

Fuck, why won’t she say something.

She helps him in silence, capping the tincture jar when it’s through and taking it back to her nest with her. Gloria is too close to the stall wall now for him to slip through on the side opposite Lennie and curl under his own blanket where he actually belongs.

He has to pass her.

And so he holds his breath as he does.

“Where are you going?” She mumbles when it’s clear he’s not returning. 

It’s soft. Innocent. 

It’s afraid.

What he can’t know is it’s four-in-the-morning fear of never being held like that again.

He opens his mouth and “my side,” comes falling out.

Lennie looks up at him with big, sleep-glassed eyes.

God, he wants to kiss her. 

In her backwards jacket, hair full of hay, stuffy fuckin nose and all.

He wants to wrap himself in lavender and redwood and never be free of that scent on his skin again.

“You’re warm,” is what she says in lieu of begging him not to take his heat from her.

She gives him the out of “and now so are you.”

The out of “I’m glad you’re not freezing anymore.”

She gives him the chance to escape her and take his touch with him.

And instead, he brings it back.

Crawling back under where she holds the blanket up, arranging himself with all of his prior awkward angles. 

How he was before they found each other in their sleep.

She can feel him holding his breath.

Because she’s not breathing either.

Lennie doesn’t want to bring baggage to this. Doesn’t want to let slip that she hasn’t been held like that in years—not since the him whose jacket Joel is wearing and whose boots still sit in her hallway and whose wedding ring she keeps around her neck threaded on a chain alongside her own. 

She doesn’t want to tell him with her words that he’s the first man who makes her feel again and she can’t fucking explain why because she doesn’t know him, except she does. 

She doesn’t want to give weight to the fact that he’s the one who moved in the night to fold himself around her.

Doesn’t want to tell him how frightened she is that he doesn’t find this as maddening as she does.

And she’s terrified to move lest this shatter.

But she can’t do this for another second.

“Joel.”

“Yeah.”

“Before was—okay.”

“Listen, I’m sorry about that, Lennie.”

And she starts to fracture thinking he’ll say that it won’t happen again.

“You said you don’t like it, and I…I…I just kind of moved and I’m sorry I got way into your space and I didn’t mean…”

“Move again.”

“What?”

“Move. Again.”

Joel’s breath hitches and he curls tentatively against her, chest to her back first before the line of his body follows, finding her form. 

Her waist with his hand.

Her hair with his nose.

And she melts back into him.

And finally they both breathe.

And sleep comes easy. Tangled like this.

_____

“How’s she doing?” Asked in Ellie’s voice the next thing he hears.

He sucks in a sharp breath with a start and prepares half-true excuses.

But when he opens his eyes, Lennie isn’t there.

Instead, she’s stroking the star on Gloria’s forehead, back-lit by rising sun filtering in through curls that shape the morning light like cut pieces of stained glass.

“Come and see.”

He sits up and watches the way she smiles when Ellie’s face lights up in disbelief.

“It’s gotta be down by what? At least half?”

“I’d say about that much, yeah.”

“Joel, look at this!”

And he does, leaving the warmth of the questionable bed they never should have shared.

He’d say it’s about that much.

“You did it,” Ellie gives each of them a high five and they pause just short of high-fiving each other.

Live wires thrumming with a need one spark short of exploding.

“I can take over for the day, if you want?” Ellie offers. 

“Yeah, yeah, actually. That would be great. I think we’d both appreciate sleeping in our own beds.” Lennie says it without bitterness, eyes locked on Joel for the slightest reaction.

She gets it in a minute tic of his brow.

“How often should I give her medicine? Still every hour?”

“Can probably knock it down to every three, actually. No signs of necrosis, and I doubt we’d see any now. Three should be good. And we’ll get these tubes out too.” 

Joel gently guides Ellie out of the way and moves to stand at Gloria’s shoulder to steady her. Lennie gently wiggles each tube, testing for internal inflammation before sliding each free in turn.

Gloria snorts and tosses her head, nearly knocking Lennie into him.

Even the horse is sick of their shit.

“How’s my girl?” Tommy appears now, glass tupperware and something wrapped in paper balanced in his hand. “Brought you both breakfast.”

A wrapped breakfast sandwich goes to Joel and the container of bacon and eggs to Lennie.

“She sailed right through the worst of it. Ellie is going to take over dosing every three hours, but I’d say we’re just about there.”

Tommy moves to take a look for himself, gently pressing a kiss to the horse’s forehead before reaching out a hand to Lennie.

“You did it again.”

“Happy to help,” she smiles as Tommy claps Joel on the back. 

“You two must be wiped, come on, I’ll walk you back. Ellie, you good?”

“Yeah, I got this.”

“Anything changes for the worse, you come straight by, yeah?” Lennie nods in her direction. 

“I know where to find you. But we’ll be alright, won’t we girl?” She strokes the horse’s cheek before cooing soft words of praise.

They hit the shop first, Joel clenching his hand out of habit now more so than discomfort.

“Hey, um, thanks for your help last night, Joel,” Lennie meets his eyes as she fishes her keys from her pocket. 

“Yeah. Yeah it’s no problem.”

She offers him a tight smile before opening the shop door. “Hold up for one.”

She slips through the door and reappears with his jar of weird coffee. “You probably need that.”

“Thanks,” he offers her a grin and holds the jar up with his sandwich, “I cannot tell you how much I’m gonna enjoy this.”

He’s sleep deprived, sore, and probably delusional, but her answering smile is the most beautiful thing he’s seen in a long time. 

“Mornin’ Joel.”

“Mornin’, Len.”

It snags in his throat, but he makes his way through.

He and Tommy nearly make it to their street before Joel’s curiosity chews all the way through his filter.

“You knew she didn’t need my help last night, but you asked me to stay. Why?”

“Yeah, we uh…we don’t like Len going anywhere alone.”

“You what?” 

Hackles are up.

“We don’t…let her alone. Comings and goings during the day are fine, she’s never far from anyone, but with the stables on the edge of town…” Tommy trails off before stopping his brother. “She’s too valuable to us, Joel. To the town. I mean you just saw it with your own eyes.”

“So she’s a prisoner here.”

“Man, come on, it’s not like that. We protect her. Always make sure someone capable has her back.” 

Joel snorts and keeps moving.

“Because we almost lost her a few years back.”

And at this, Joel turns.

“She was out beyond the wall. Gathering something with her husband. He wasn’t a patrolman. Wasn’t a fighter, he was a farmer. And a musician. It wasn’t his job. Raiders came through, caught them by surprise. Thank God she had a sickle on her.  And she got ‘em good, I mean real good, Joel. But Andy didn’t have much more than a small knife."

"He uh. He didn’t make it.”

Joel’s eyes are burning.

“She was covered in blood when we found her. We couldn’t tell what was hers and what wasn’t. And screaming. So loud. Just holding him, she wouldn’t let go. We had to get Jane out there. To give her something to calm her. Just so we could move them back inside the wall.” Tommy’s voice cracks as it plays back behind his eyes. 

“You could see the moment it happened, Joel. Written on those bodies. Just. Rage. She nearly took someone’s head off, man.”

He clenches his jaw, tears threatening to spill because Sarah’s smile is here. Trying to quell the rage that rises up in his own breast at the state of the world that someone else has been here before. Felt this same bile and burn. 

And for a moment he allows himself to think of Tess.

“This is his coat, ain’t it,” Joel croaks.

“Yeah.”

“I’ll take it back to her this afternoon,” he grits out and turns on his heel.

“You should. So to answer your question, no. She’s not a prisoner.” Tommy calls after him as his boots hit his front porch.

“She’s just seen enough.” Joel finishes, throwing a wave behind him and disappearing through the front door.

And for a moment, he wishes for nothing more than to hold her again.

Because now he understands.

She understands.

next

Old chapters are hosted on the OFFS Library page. New chapters will be posted to Ohforficsake - follow me over there for future updates.

Shoot me a message @ohforficsake or comment under this post if you would like to be added to the taglist for updates! Thanks so much for reading.

[sleepyowlwrites]

wip questionnaire tag

from @illarian-rambling what a pretty url

I'll do city story because I am trying to psych myself up to write a new scene.

What's The First part of the WIP that you created?

The beginning, but not the very beginning. Chapter 2 type beginning. I still gotta write an actual first scene.

If Your Story was a TV show, what would the theme song/intro be?

Mess We Made by The Paper Kites

What are your favourite characters that you made and why?

The main trio of Jet: angry fighty lad, Rune: secretive angry gal, and Copper: concerned supportive twin brother (to Jet). Copper and Jet are 100% there for each other and trying to reconnect after years apart, and consequently are having some heavy emotions about it. Jet and Rune are character foils for each other, each drawing out things and changing things about each other by just being in orbit. Rune and Copper are (not really) competing for Jet's attention and both want good things for Jet according to their own definitions. It's delightful.

What other pieces of media your fanbase would share?

I'm not sure, since I don't actually fiction in the genre this is (realistic contemporary fiction, or as I call it: ci-fi - city fiction). I'll let them make their own connections and comparisons, I guess.

What has been your biggest struggle with your WIP?

Finishing a draft, which is my number one struggle with all my wips. If I have started a draft, it's murder to finish it. If I haven't, it's murder to start.

Are there animals in your story? Talk about them.

There aren't and that was kind of on purpose. It helps to hone in on the isolated vibes.

How do your characters travel/get around?

Jet has a motorcycle. It's a piece of crap that he's restored to working condition with Moss's help. Rune has a car of the Honda civic variety. Moss has a tiny little sedan and Yarrow, Hawk, and Shadow walk out take a bus.

What part of your WIP are you working on right now?

The sort of third act of the first draft.

What aspects (tropes, maybe) will you think will draw your audience in?

Found family (everyone's favorite), no romance, hurt/comfort, visceral depictions of emotions, characters who are either too honest or not enough, the slow crawl from apathy to purpose, and finding catharsis in a situation that intends to deny finding any.

What are your hopes for your WIP?

I want to finish a draft, and then finish another one. I have no plans to publish this particular story. My sister is hoping to get into bookbinding, though, and she's moving back home at the end of the summer, so if I can get this thing to a good place, I might have her make a nice book of it for me. Until then, I'll keep letting people read it.

@revenantlore @talesofsorrowandofruin @rains-inky-mind or anybody

[askuemki]

ranting about WCUE

I have ALOT of (maybe) unnecessary grudges with so many things abt WCUE. I love reading rants, so I'll as might as well put out my own too. To the people (probably most of my followers) who don't know what the game is, basically it's a children's game on Roblox based off of the book series Warrior Cats, by Erin Hunter. I apologize in advance, there may be some lingo you may not understand.

So WCUE has been my comfort game for many, many years. Partly, it's my childhood and it's just a game I can just go and chill. Make silly cats without working my ass off on drawing. But when I want to actually go and try and join a clan? Have fun roleplaying a little? (I'll admit, it's a fun thing from time to time.) Every. Single. Fucking. clan. Never manages to keep itself up. It takes SO LONG to set things up. To get the right people. It'll take hours for a clan to get running. And for what? For people to sit in the clearing? For your complicated "fun" plots to fall flat? I don't get being picky. Sure, you want your major roles to have experience, to know their shit. But if you keep yearning for that one miss perfect medicine cat who knows all of the out of game herbs? Bullshit. Major roles are here to have fun too, not to just manage. It's so frustrating whenever I want to be a leader, or a medic and to have 1000's of kids yapping at my toes. You're expected to babysit. To do their wishes. You only matter as a major because you're needed. Something else with these "experienced roleplays" is the cliques. People form friend groups, that's natural. But if it's a game where people are SUPPOSED to chat and cooperate, what's the point if you don't include them too? Those prophecy plots? It's only fun if you're the main character. People who join later are confused, or you get shoved into the back. And when the rules are established? NOBODY upholds them after 10 minutes. I'm tired of seeing people sitting in the clearing, or moping around alone. I'll admit I'm quite guilty sitting by myself, but at some point you'll need to get thing going with one or more people. You'll eventually get demotivated from loneliness. Another thing, "exp" people. (Or cats, per say.) It frustrates me to see people using these unnecessarily lengthy words to describe something. Incandescent, tarsal bones, premolars, dentations, all of that bullshit-you don't need those words when people can't even understand you. Recently, I got some real good advice from a mentor. Good writing doesn't involve using these long words. If they aren't in your everyday vocabulary? Just don't. Don't use them. You come off as arrogant and show offish. (Unless that's how you intend to display yourself.) Good writing involves clarity, making things CLEAR for other people. Instead of using words only Shakespear would use, why not describe your surroundings in your descriptions? Other cats? Going in depth with thoughts? If you want to go the route where you're using complicated vocabulary, at least research the words you want to use. Again, I'm guilty for this phase.

My partner was telling me about how she was auditioning for medic, and the person auditioning posted this question: "What herb tastes tangy and bitter?" (or something of the like.) It was yarrow. At least according to a quick search- it's supposed to taste like licorice. I'm convinced clan founders auditioning medics are making shit up. What herb is this? What herb is that? The more "experienced" players lean towards out of game herbs, and it gives an unfair advantage for players wanting that role. I don't have time in my day to study herbs like I'm studying for my exams. The "unexperienced" players (maybe this can also be for everyone) have problems too, I'm not going to just complain about the veteran members. HARASSMENT. There's those people who shoo spectators away like pests. It's a public server. It isn't YOUR clan, let them exist. It pisses me off when they're so abrupt and arrogant about it. If you ask? Maybe they'd be more willing to move away. It also sucks when there is a valid roleplay with specific lore, and (agreeable) rules to follow, and people insert themselves like they're the main character. No, SpeckledPelt you can't have the leader role just because you equipped the icon. No BloodBush (fuck you, specifically), you wanted to join the clan; don't boss the host around when they're trying to set things up for you. I miss the WCUE where we didn't have to be so choosey about the people we appoint for roles. I miss the WCUE where we can be silly and fun, without having to feel sophisticated. Sure maybe the name "MochaHeart" is a little wacky, but at least they're doing their best to roleplay. To have fun.