#cannibalistic swiss | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

movedcherriluvv · 2 years

Text

001 - One Dumb Decision After Another

prev. | next. | series masterlist | main masterlist

Contains: mentions of suicide, mentions of child abandonment, mentions of physical abuse

wc: 1994k

Looking back on it now, maybe she should have savoured her life before the apocalypse more. Sure it had its ups and downs. A poor family consisting of a mother forced to pay off her husband’s debts, an unfaithful father, and a daughter that knew more than she should have. But it was a lot better than the constant looming threat of getting chomped by cannibalistic dead people.

At least her parents would be around.

She silently stared at the passing scenery through the window of Dale’s RV. Her thoughts adrift as she reminisced about what went down at the CDC.

How the scientist was going to pull the group into a mass suicide party.

How Jackie stayed behind as they all ran.

How Andrea was going to stay, but chose— no was forced into coming with them.

Elsie subtly glanced at the blonde woman sitting on the other side of the vehicle with Shane chatting about guns. She returned her gaze to the window before the woman could notice her stare. She wasn’t in the mood to set Andrea off.

The RV came to a stop.

A sea of cars blocked their path on the highway. The only thing preventing them from turning around was the RV breaking down for some reason that went through one ear and out the other since she was never interested in cars. What? She was five years away from being allowed to drive one, why would she concern herself over it at a much younger age? Plus, with how things are, would she ever get a license? And if she did drive without a license who was going to arrest her? Rick?

Deciding that her legs were in need of some stretching, she exited the large vehicle and was met with the sight of Lori voicing her opposition against scavenging through the cars. The rest of the group ignored her opinion. After all, why should they care about that? The dead walked, the world had gone to shit and they needed whatever supplies they could get their hands on to survive. It wasn’t like a couple of dead people were going to miss their things anyway. What are they going to do? Say no?

Cautiously, the young girl surveyed the cars as she roamed in search of anything of use.

“Elsie!” Lori called out to her.

Said girl poked her head from behind a car and looked at the woman.

“That applies to you too. Stay in sight so we can see you.” Though the little girl wasn’t her child she was a child nonetheless. When her family’s were met because no matter what they would always be her first priority, it was then that she would check in on Elsie. She wasn’t the only one to do this. Others in the group as well have done what they can for the girl, but it wasn’t easy when she kept everyone at arm's length. Although, no one could blame her after what happened a month into the apocalypse…

“Yes, Lori,” Elsie responded despite fully knowing she wasn’t going to abide by the mother’s order, and went back to her search.

After some walking she came to a stop.

In one empty car, she spotted a semi large brown backpack.

Taking a quick look around her surroundings, she opened the conveniently unlocked door and took the bag before searching the rest of the car.

Inside the bag she found a half empty reusable water bottle, a passport belonging to a Bradley Sams which she then tossed aside, a couple of melted chocolate bars (which she sadly had to leave behind since the weather wasn’t cool enough to harden the sweet treats), two mens briefs, socks, two t-shirts, jeans, and a copper swiss knife.

Elsie decided that the clothes would go to whichever men in the group wanted them and she would keep the rest for herself. Including the knife. It would be stupid of her to leave herself weaponless. While she was in a large group of people that cared enough to help each other, unlike the two other kids, Elsie was alone. She had no parents to care for her, and you know what? Maybe it was better that way. Her family after all wasn’t apocalypse material.

Elsie checked the small contraption to make sure it worked well. It wasn’t unfamiliar to her. Her grandfather owned one although he never let her touch it, and back in third grade, a scrawny boy in her class brought it to show off in hopes of gaining some sort of rise in popularity. He let them play around with it until their teacher confiscated it. Did he even get it back? She didn’t remember.

She was about to place the knife back into the bag but changed her mind last minute. Elsie instead slipped it into the back pocket on the right side of her denim shorts. Thankfully she didn’t have to worry about the bulge it created since she had a flannel shirt tied around her waist.

After checking the rest of the car, she found nail clippers, a blue hoodie that thankfully didn’t smell, a lighter which to her joy still functioned and rotten fruit.

Yeah she was going to leave the last one behind.

Satisfied, Elsie moved onto other cars. At one point she spotted Carl grab what looked to be a black hatchet and examined it with a sparkle in his eyes.

Deciding nothing of it, she continued her search which was shortly interrupted.

“Get under the car!” Suddenly whisper-shouted Rick. “Carl, Sophia, Elsie, get down now!”

Although confused, she followed his instructions anyway, and removed the bag from her back to slide underneath with more ease. Now underneath the car, she took out the swiss knife from her pocket in case she needed it. She didn’t know the reason behind this until she saw some feet walk past her. Holding in her breath, Elsie’s grip tightened around the handle. Her entire form rigid in fear as walkers passed her hiding spot.

She’s done it before killing walkers. She had to do it the night their camp had been attacked. Everyone was so focused on protecting themselves and their own family and she had no choice but to pick up the nearest branch and swing at the approaching creatures to defend herself. But that didn’t mean that she was used to it or any less scared.

Then she heard Sophia’s panicked shriek and her heart sank.

From the car she’d hidden under, she watched in horror as the little girl slipped out and ran with a walker in tow.

Now Elsie wasn’t exactly close with Sophia or the group. She didn’t see the point in getting too close with them when death followed them all in a physical, monstrous form wherever they went. When things get tough it’s only normal for creatures to prioritize their lives or the lives of their loved ones, and Elsie didn’t have any loved ones. She didn’t have anyone to protect or to be protected by, which meant it wouldn’t be all too surprising if she was sacrificed when it came down to it.

But that didn’t mean she didn’t like any of them.

Sophia was a kind girl. Albeit shyly, she remembered the blonde girl approaching her and invited her to play even though they were strangers. She didn’t tease Elsie for colouring colour books or took it personally whenever she declined to go with her. On top of that, Elsie pitied her. While her father may not have been the greatest man, never would he ever lay a hand on his own wife and kid. Ever.

After she realized that she’d been abandoned by her parents, and watching her grandparents die horribly, Elsie vowed that she would survive no matter what.

What she should’ve done was stay under the car and then regroup with the others. However the image of sweet, innocent Sophia, scared and alone within a forest teeming with walkers made her chest tighten, and so, throwing all caution to the wind, Elsie slipped out from under the vehicle and went after Sophia without looking back.

“Sophia, Sophia wait!” Elsie called out. ‘Shit,’ she internally cursed when the other child continued to run.

She knew that yelling was risky, but she hoped that if she was loud enough the walkers would divert their attention to her.

The girl must have been starting to tire herself because her pace was slowing before she tripped.

“Sophia!”

Elsie wrapped her hand around the girl’s thin wrist and pulled her up.

She tilted her towards her right where she guessed the highway was and tugged the arm in her grasp. It wouldn’t do them any good if they strayed too far and got lost. “This way.”

Sophia shook her head, lips quivering with fear. “No, that’s where the walkers are!”

“Sophia, there are walkers everywhere,” Elsie pointed out. Briefly she turned her head in search of the walkers previously chasing them. Her breath hitched when she saw them not so far away and heading towards them. “We need to stay close to the highway so we don’t get lost.”

“But—”

Sophia screamed and Elsie all but jumped out of her skin when Rick seemingly popped out of nowhere. She didn’t know that he was following them but was thankful nonetheless that he showed up.

The man shushed the distressed girl to calm her down. He then kneeled down to their level. “Are you girls alright? Are you okay?”

“Yeah, we’re fine—”

“Shoot them!” Sophia cried, promptly cutting off Elsie, and clawed at the gun strapped to his waist.

“No, no,” Rick said, pulling her away from the weapon. “Those walkers on the road would hear it. Then it wouldn’t just be two, it’d be hundreds. Now come on.”

Lifting the blonde girl into a bridal carry hold, he turned to make sure that Elsie was there and ran with the latter following closely behind. When they reached a quarry Rick stopped and placed Sophia down.

“All right, just hold here. Stay there.”

Then he jumped and landed with a splash.

“Come on.” He gestured to the two girls.

First he helped Elsie down, the water reached way above her knees but thankfully didn’t soak the bag. Then he carried Sophia once more, this time bringing them to (insert whatever the hell he hid Sophia in).

“Elsie, Sophia, you have to do exactly as I say.” He pointed to the (hole, cave, thingy). “Hide in there. Squeeze in tight, I’ll draw them away from you.”

“No, no, don’t leave us,” she pleaded.

“Listen, listen, listen, listen. They don’t get winded. I do. I can only deal with them one at a time. I wouldn’t be able to protect you both. This is how we both survive. You understand?”

Sophia and Elsie both nodded their heads.

“Okay? Go, go, go, go.”

The two squeezed themselves tightly.

Rick and Elsie shared a glance.

“Sophia…” Elsie began softly, holding the little girl’s hand, “it’s going to be okay. We’ll be alright.”

“If I don’t make it back, run back to the highway, back to the others straight the way we came. Keep the sun on your left shoulder.”

Rick looked up at the walkers and backed away from the girls, he created a commotion, and once he had their attention, he ran with them following closely behind.

When they were out of sight, Elsie felt Sophia shift and saw her leaving.

“What are you doing?” The former whispered.

“We can’t stay here,” Sophia whimpered, clutching her stuffed toy closer to her person.

“He’s going to come back.”

“What if he doesn’t come back?”

“We won’t know unless we wait.”

Shaking her head, she began walking away. Elsie called after the girl, but when she didn’t show any sign of coming back, the brown haired girl let out an irritated sigh and went after her.

Sophia: I made this friendship bracelet for you.

Elsie: You know, I’m not really a jewelry person.

Sophia: You don’t have to wear…

Elsie: No, I’m gonna wear it forever. Back off.

#twd x oc #oc insert #the walking dead x oc #the walking dead fanfiction #twd fanfiction

2 notes · View notes

teeth-ing · 1 year

Text

#polls #2023 tbr

1 note · View note

drawbauchery · 4 years

Text

Search, Rescue, Pizza

fic by cartoons-tothemoon

It wasn’t like Private was incompetent. He was a genuinely good agent, and as capable as anyone really expected a “new” recruit to be. There were even times where he was able to get the best of everybody else just because of his own understanding of their expectations of him and the skill he had when it came to reading his compatriots.

However, skill, experience, expectations didn’t determine how far removed from danger anyone could really be. If Skipper could be captured, even if it was during some off days, what does that say about the safety of everyone else?

Not the best of things to say the least.

———

Skipper didn’t know when Private was taken, but it had to be some time between walking home from a mission that left them overall in high spirits, and arriving at home only to realize something was off. Skipper generally lead the charge anyhow, and had been planning a movie night to celebrate the successful mission, but as he jammed his needlessly large bag of miscellaneous tools into the closet, he watched as Kowalski followed him to go to his lab for a quick five minute touch-up, and Rico walking as casually as he could so he didn’t look so whipped to Julien despite everyone knowing otherwise, but no Private.

Skipper peered through the doorway and glanced around their hall. Nothing. Nobody.

Maybe he got stuck talking to Marlene in the lobby? He was the one who delivered rent to her every month, he might just be getting a stern talking to right now, but it was nowhere near the end of the month just yet, and it’s not as if any noise complaints were reasonable at this point given that they practically had the floor to themselves.

“Hey, Rico. Private was behind you, right?” He asked, trying to sound casual, catching Rico seconds away from bolting to Julien’s room.

He shrugged. “Sh-should’ve been.”

“Should’ve been? Was he?”

“I d-don’t know, I w-wasn’t real-really thinking about it.” Rico sounded slightly a bit more terse at this, but he could tell that there was something about Skipper that seemed just a little off. Skipper wasn’t an inherently anxious person, but he was rather paranoid, and those two aspects tended to be a thin line to walk across. His bravado and confidence usually lead to him being perceived as more paranoid than anything else, but the tightrope he walked seemed to sway in the anxiety direction just then as Skipper began to tug at his lip, a nervous habit he must’ve picked up from SOMEONE, but Rico didn’t know who, though it did explain why Skipper seemed to be always sporting a split and bloody lip from a “recent scuffle,” something that seemed to make Private dote on him more than usual.

“L-Look,” Rico sighed. “He pr-probably got s-sidetrack-ked on the walk ho-home. He p-probably s-saw one of those dre-dresses or horse d-dolls that he l-liked and stop-stopped by a sh-shop. Sim-simple as that. Wouldn’t be the f-first time” On some level, Rico thought that statement was a lie, a reasonable lie, but still a lie nonetheless. However, the statement calmed Skipper down somewhat, worrying or speculating about where Private was, wherever he may be, didn’t find him. If he calmed down and remained rational, or at least, rational for him, he’d be able to plan from there, and find where he might be.

The question at this point was more to see if Skipper would take the bait for it and understand the hidden meaning. It’s not like Skipper looked to Rico for emotional guidance, and communicating with him was always far more difficult than someone as direct and open as Julien.

It seemed as if he did, at least, as he blinked once or twice and pulled his hand away from his mouth, opening and closing his fist a few times before digging through his pockets muttering, “he better have charged his phone this time around…”

Rico watched as Skipper nervously navigated his phone to contact Private, the only reason he did so was due to the fact he wasn’t sure if he was dismissed yet, and the last thing he really wanted to do was leave Skipper unstable like this as well as alone at a time like this.

Skipper pressed a button to put the phone on speaker, and listened as it rang.

RING….RING….RING…

Skipper felt his hand shake with minor violent tremors as he waited in anticipation. On some level, he knew it was stupid to be this worried. Rico was probably right. Hell, maybe Private even stopped by the theatre for some popcorn, you know, the authentic stuff for their movie night, and they were all going to have a good laugh about this as Skipper worried over nothing, before he’d make them run wind sprints and-

“Hello, you have reached the mailbox of the cutest cadet in your little cavalry. I’m afraid he can’t answer the phone at the moment, as he’s a little tied up at the moment, but please feel free to give me your message at the beep. I’m sure he would LOVE hearing it…

…BEEP.”

———

Savio was a unique sort of force to be dealing with in the first place, rather distant from the field that the task force played in, as well as being a threat they acquired as a team, rather than somebody’s illustrious past coming back to haunt them.

Which, being honest, was a breath of fresh air for Skipper.

However, it meant a new level of Hell for Private. Maybe it was because of how kind and innocent and unassuming he was back before they knew of Savio’s true cannibalistic, drug dealing, hitmen hiring nature, but he seemed to take a liking to him, and that’s quite honestly the last thing most people would want in the first place. The fact that he’d send him love letters and dead rats made the process all the more creepy, and Skipper knew this.

“D-Did he r-really r-record a v-voicem-mail mes-message in 2020?” Rico murmured. “The excess.” It was a withdrawn way of making light of the situation that they seemed to be stuck in, not in a mean, disrespectful way, just as a way to bring Skipper down from the state that he seemed to be in now, which rendered him as an irritable wreck, the littlest thing could set him off.

Skipper’s knuckles clutched his phone in his hands hard until they turned white, and Skipper eyed Rico. Rico didn’t know what he was looking for, advice? Consultation? Something? Anything? He was the wrong person for all these things and both of them knew it. So he gave him something he could work with. That’s all he could do, really.

“Y-you’ll be f-faster alone.”

That seemed to relax Skipper immensely. His grip loosened, he let out the breath he was holding, and he resolved to grab his coat and headed out the door. He gave a solemn nod to Rico, which was his way of saying, “hey, thanks for that back there,” and Rico returned it with a finger gun that said “no problem.”

It wasn’t very communicative, and it reeked of a weird machismo that didn’t permeate the group dynamic of anyone else in the group, but it was theirs, and it worked.

Skipper slammed the door and could be heard running down the hall, and Rico, a little shaken at the events that had occurred, simply watched the closed door with a blank expression on his face.

Skipper seemed off as of late. More secretive or less, he couldn’t even be certain of that. But, regardless, it wasn’t his place, and he was sure Private could handle it anyhow, so why try?

If Skipper really wanted to talk to him, he would. Not that Rico thought he was one of those people people talked to about things anyhow.

Rico pondered such a thing for a time, but shrugged it off to go see his lovely boyfriend. There was only so much he could really do anyhow, so why stress? Was he worried if Skipper could handle it on his own? Maybe slightly, but it was also Skipper he was talking about. If he was the group’s Swiss army knife, Skipper was something else entirely. Not only capable of wielding the multi-tool, but so many other trades and tricks and hats that Rico was certain he didn’t know them all. That’s fine, he had some skills he hadn’t demonstrated to Skipper either. It’s not like he needed to know anyhow, that applied to him and Skipper. And besides, getting back to the matter at hand, If Julien was taken from him, he’d want to handle matters on his own, too. Nothing wrong with that.

Nothing wrong with keeping it in the family, so to speak.

———

If there was one sort of unsavory character Private loathed outside of your general garden variety thug and the occasional badger, it had to be Savio. If Skipper and Hans gave off the vibes of feuding ex-lovers, Private was sure he and Savio gave off the vibe of a drunk guy flirting with a girl at the bar who’s clearly uninterested. That’s because that’s basically what those two relationships were, especially since Savio had cracked open the wine coolers.

Unlike most of their “visits,” Savio wasn’t so much as present. Private figured he had to be somewhere, but, as far as he knew, three random rough-looking guys had pulled him down an alley, put a bag over his head, tied him up, and were dangling him over a dangerous pit that Private figured was filled with the usual dangerous pit things - spikes, alligators, just being really deep and dark in general - but such items couldn’t be seen in the darkness of the warehouse.

Private figured it was Savio the minute the bag was removed from his head. Savio always picked seedy warehouses for kidnapping, considering he usually owned the companies that held the wares in the first place, so he didn’t have to resort to abandoned factories and the ilk like every other kingpin in the criminal underworld did, but, it’s not like knowing this really helped him. If anything, it reminded him of the dire straits he was in.

Savio was fond of him. It was a creepy sort of fondness that never brought him any sort of comfort, but, that just meant that the warehouse men had no predilections about roughing him up before dangling over the pit, and boy, could he really feel it. Especially in his head, if he wasn’t so aware of the dangers of concussions, he’d be trying less hard to stay awake in the hopes that sleep would dull the pain on its own.

He didn’t know what Savio was looking for, or even if these guys were working for Savio at all. But he wish he did. Ransom, victim, damsel…If he knew his role, it’d be all the better for him to understand what was going on, and his fate.

If only he hadn’t dawdled so much, maybe he wouldn’t be in this situation. Maybe if he wasn’t just regarded as slow and silly and cute, he wouldn’t have been captured at all. It wasn’t like Skipper or Rico were kidnapped. They were regarded as too dangerous to risk such a thing. Even Kowalski was considered far more capable than he was worth.

And that just left Private.

Poor, sweet, innocent, naive, helpless Private.

If he loosened the ropes around his wrists, he’d fall into the pit. If he fell into the pit, he has no idea what was lurking for him down there, or if the fall would be enough to kill him alone. And it’s not like he could swing to avoid the pit entirely given that the idiot henchmen never removed the bag from his head, honestly, how unprofessional…

Though, given his lack of sight, he was able to focus more on what he could feel, and at the moment, he could feel the tension on the rope getting more taught as something seemed to put a weight on the rope. It made his heart stutter in his chest from the fear of the whole ordeal, but there was no point in making a sound outside of the startled gasp that was muffled by the canvas bag over his head.

He felt whoever was climbing down the rope climb down to his level, based on how they hung on the rope. They wrapped their legs around them, and seemed to have one hand on the rope, and the other…sawing away at the rope that held his tied-up wrists. Private felt the rope becoming looser with each methodical swing of the blade, but it didn’t make him any more certain that he’d be safe. He could still fall, and he had no idea who this really was either. He supposed he HAD to trust them, if only because of what the alternative would mean for him.

He felt the rope loosen at last, and even though he tried to swallow it, he couldn’t help but give out a short scream before the figure had caught his wrist, which alerted the henchmen based on their muttering.

“Well, well, well, looks like we got some unfinished business to tend to.”

“Skipper?”

The figure, now better known as Skipper, swung on the rope with Private in one hand and the rope in the other, landing on the other side on his feet, even if Private didn’t do the same, and seemed to charge forward to fight the henchmen. That’s how Private was able to recall the events anyhow, given that he was only able to get the bag off after Skipper had already had the one of the other henchman in a sleeper choke, and the other was down, leaving only one to go. As soon as the henchman fell to the ground, Skipper was able to avoid a swing from a pipe by moving in close, landing a kick to the stomach, a knee to the groin, and an uppercut to the chin to take the guy out for good.

Skipper shook his knuckles distastefully as he breathed a sigh of relief.

“That’s always a good way to blow off some steam,” he muttered, and turned around to be met with Private running into his arms for a hug, almost knocking him off his feet. There seemed to be something very poetic about the idea that he was able to take down men twice his size in practically an instant, but Private could knock him out, and he’d fall apart. Of course, Skipper wasn’t really a poet, so such a concept kind of eluded him.

After a few moments of holding him close, Skipper pulled back. Private’s injuries were luckily, rather mild. A split lip here, a large bruise on his forehead there, and some tears in his eye. All things rather easily fixed, though, despite this, Private avoided eye contact.

“Let’s get out of here.”

———

On their way home, they got sidetracked. The whole atmosphere seemed to be off since they left the place, with Private refusing to even look at Skipper, though holding on to his shirt with a wrought-iron grip and Skipper feeling the need to fidget in a way that didn’t register as suspicious. Private wasn’t a fan of when Kowalski began picking at his nails as a nervous tic, and worked hard to break him of the habit. He was sure that Private wouldn’t be a fan of something that actually caused him to bleed.

They stopped by a pizzeria. To clean their wounds, to decompress, and to grab a bite, considering that they were both rather certain that Kowalski, Rico, and Julien were probably all asleep on the couch right now, even if they didn’t mention it to the other. Private sat down at a booth and after Skipper ordered two slices of pizza for the two of them and a lemonade for Private, he returned to the table with a small first aid kit to care for their wounds.

Private seemed tired. He seemed distant. This seemed very unlike him. He usually bounced back from kidnappings and similar incidents no problem, but tonight…felt different. Hurt differently. Skipper dabbed at Private’s forehead with more hesitance than he had before. Private sipped his drink.

“Are you alright?” Skipper asked, pulling back.

Private looked at him for the first time that night and nodded slightly.

“Are you sure?” He asked with more hesitance. These were very hard questions for him to ask in the first place, but the last thing he wanted was to neglect Private at a time like this, even if he considered this whole thing to be outside of his wheelhouse.

Private hesitated, but nodded again.

Skipper took a stab at the issues. “Kidnapping gotcha’ down?”

Private mumbled something before slumping onto the table.

“What was that?”

“I’m not worth this!” He said, a little louder than necessary before returning to his position at the table and crying. Skipper jumped at the loud response, but felt his heart go out to Private when he realized what was going on.

“What do you mean?”

“I’m not worth ki-kidnapping…I’m not WORTH rescuing…This all happened because I was slow and distracted and, and-“

Skipper carefully lifted his face off the table, in a compassionate move that surprised even him.

“You should be worrying about yourself! Not me!” Private accused. “You look like you got totaled in that fight, your knuckles are bruised, your lip is split, your face is scratched, and it’s all my fault!” Private leaned back and continued to sob into his hands. Skipper brought his finger to his lip in a self-soothing motion. He didn’t know what to say, he didn’t know what to do…What would Private do if this was him? Would he ever be in a scenario where this would be him? Would he even be able to face him like that…

Skipper sighed, quietly. He got up from his side of the booth, and moved to Private’s side, where he had himself pressed up against the wall. Skipper bumped his shoulder against Private’s to make his presence known, but that didn’t stop the crying. What could he say to comfort him? That if he wasn’t taken a civilian would be? That would be comparing him to a civilian instead of a fully trained soldier in his own right…he wouldn’t dream of demeaning him like that…he pondered more.

“I saved you because I wanted to,” was what he settled on after an agonizing set of minutes. He stared straight ahead as he said it, not trusting himself to look at Private. This got Private to lower his hands and sniffle, not cry.

Skipper continued on. “If I really thought you weren’t worth it, I wouldn’t have rescued you the first time that this happened. But you are worth it, so I-we do.”

Private wiped his eyes.

“You’re valuable to the team in ways we don’t often acknowledge. You’re people smart, you know what people are thinking when I myself…can be a tad insensitive. You think outside of the box, I can’t think of how many missions were saved because you think so differently from us. You’re artistic. You’re sensitive. You’re compassionate.”

Skipper turned to Private then, seeing him staring at him with big blue eyes so filled with…something for him. “Quite frankly, why wouldn’t I want to save you?”

Private blinked a few times, and Skipper was nervous that he was going to cry again, but he simply rested his head on Skipper’s shoulder and closed his eyes.

“Thank you.”

Skipper himself, once he realized the situation he was in, contemplated things. He grabbed a sip of the lemonade, wincing when he remembered the cuts on his lips. He was going to have to get used to that. Private didn’t seem to respond in the slightest to the stinging sensation. He must’ve been tired.

Skipper sighed. What a night. What a town. What a place for them to be.

A few minutes later, some greasy teen who was clearly giving Skipper a look that read something Skipper didn’t understand, or didn’t trust, dropped off two paper plates with some greasy pizza on them, and walked back to the counter.

He was perceived. He was perceived and he was known. He didn’t know what he was perceived or known as, but he was nonetheless. It didn’t matter what they were or who or their situation or anything because this teen clearly had their own their own ideas. Surely, they must. And yet, the world didn’t stop.

The world didn’t end. Sure, the world seemed to be holding its breath, but that was purely because it was dawn. What about the world didn’t seem to be at a standstill at dawn?

Well, if the teen had their own ideas about who they were and who they must be, then was it so wrong for Skipper to allow himself to follow such roles? To conform to the ideals of a single member of the masses just once?

Of course, that was the justification he gave himself in order to allow himself to stroke Private’s head in a soothing, comforting sort of way, after he had long since fallen asleep.

The city that never slept seemed to be allowing them to have their moment, just this once. Skipper never felt more tired, and yet more awake at the same time, as he made a silent vow to make sure that Private never felt that he wasn’t worth saving ever again.

(Gosh, I’m so sorry this took so long! This was supposed to be for Valentine’s day believe it or not. I’m glad I got to show Rico and Skipper being buds, in which their dynamic is like they’re straight dudebros, but also gay which makes them more aware that they’re doing this machismo thing on some level? Like they clearly care, but they also don’t want it to look like they care due to some baggage they have surrounding masculinity or something? I don’t know how to describe it, I think that might be a fun dynamic to play with. Also it’s MY fanfic and I get to project the nervous tics! As well as applying stuff from my Tae Kwon Do class! Also this was supposed to be way less…sad? I dunno. I don’t know much at all.)

(Also! Apparently I’ve written 15,000 words of pining penguins? Wow…So this is my life now, huh? Could be worse.)

#cartoons-tothemoon #fics #pom #i can DRAW AGAIN #the matching pic was either gonna be this private #or rico and skipper being straight masculine bisexual bros #i love the emphasis on their friendship it's so cute #they don't WANT it to be cute but it IS #and you're right like #they have this pure masculine air to their friendship that they can't have with ko and private #they gotta maintain that dudebro-ness while also taking care of their boyfriends #and like what can i say about the rest #thank you for taking my favorite cliche and writing a beautiful thing with it #it's ;A; so romantic #skipper's whole speech and private quietly listening and taking everything in #don't quote me on this but i THINK they've got a crush on each other...?#also where did savio go #i'm gonna need some savio #and more troll voicemails #OH ONE MORE THING: NERVOUS TICS GOOD

93 notes · View notes

derekhernandezfuentes · 3 years

Text

The Irish Socialist Cannibals are Journalists from PBS, Maya Vision and other News networks in the United States, Canada, Ireland, England, and the rest of Europe as pedophiles devouring mothers’ and fathers’ sons in China, Cuba, Japan, India, and other countries worldwide to cause China and Cuba to defend their sons and families through Communism against Irish Socialist Peter Navarro’s and Michael Wood’s Democratic Cannibalism! China must Trade with Cuba for more Foods and less Cannibalistic Terrorism! The United States of White Ireland and Sweden have no place to ban Mexico, China and other countries from trading Capitalistically and Industriously with my Cuban families! The Irish are spreading Democratic Cannibalistic Pedophilia Terrorism through Journalism and Free Press! The USA is acting as a Terrorist Network with SWISS BANKS!

View On WordPress

0 notes

gearsmoke · 6 years

Text

Swiss Chalet (a chicken restaurant) sent me a Mothers Day promotional email titled ‘For All Those Mother Hens’. Maybe implying that moms are going to cannibalistically eat their own kind at your restaurant isn’t a great publicity move.

#lol smooth

1 note · View note

benjamingarden · 4 years

Text

This Month On The Farm: July 2020

July's weather was full-on summer complete with heat, humidity, and lots o' sunshine. And surprisingly, a lack of mosquitoes. Hooray for that! We did receive some rain and when we did, oh boy was it a lot.

Tents - Not Just For Camping

As you can see in the photo above, we decided to make use of a couple of our extra craft show tents and set them up on the upper and lower decks. On the upper deck it's wide open, used just for rain cover and shade (Ollie is afraid of the netting walls so we left them off). On the lower deck we used the netting walls and put our outdoor table and chairs inside so we can enjoy eating or sitting outside without bugs attacking. Ollie, as noted, is afraid of the walls but if he's sitting in his tower with me by his side, he deals with it ok.

gutters and rain barrel installed!

Barrels Of Rain

Woo hoo! Jay was able to get the gutters installed on the outbuildings and the rain barrels are up and working. This has been on our "someday" list for years. Years! We've been able to successfully use the barrels to water the garden through most of the month, only needing to resort to our well water a couple of times.

Harvesting

As I've mentioned (probably too many times), our garden is mostly shaded. We receive morning sun over about 70% of it and afternoon sun for a few hours over it all, and it's fully shaded the remainder of the day. And so, our harvesting starts late. Then, of course, we had the infamous whistle pig debacle that set us back a bit but we are now enjoying the fruits of our labor.

Green beans are coming in by the bushel. I know that many people don't enjoy frozen green beans but we do, so I grow enough to enjoy fresh weekly as well as enough to put up in the freezer for winter and springtime eating. I planted 3 types this year: Blue Lake, Red Noodle, and Calima Bush Beans. The Red Noodle are still small and green but this is the first year we've planted them so, fingers crossed, they are delicious.

We finally have tomatoes!!! Well, we finally have ripe tomatoes! We have a ton, I mean TON, of green tomatoes amidst the 25 plants so we will definitely have plenty for fresh eating as well as for oven-drying to freeze for sauce during the winter.

We are also harvesting onions, cabbage, kale, swiss chard, mixed greens, arugula, microgreens, peppers (jalapeno, ancho, and bell), summer squash, zucchini, the last of the peas, beets, blueberries, blackberries, herbs and radish.

our sweet potato hill

Sadly, our pear and asian pear trees did not do well this year. I've ordered new "partners" for them (and the paw paw tree) so our hope is we will be swimming in their fruits in a couple of years! And our whistle pig took out all of our summer broccoli and cauliflower so we won't be harvesting either of those until fall.

At the start of the season I would grab a big bowl from the cupboard and Ollie and I would head to the garden to harvest whatever was ready. One day, as my bowl was so full the veggies were spilling out of it, Jay looked at me and said "you need a bucket or a basket or something". I said "I know. Someone I follow on Instagram just posted a picture of her harvest basket that her husband made. It was nice - metal mesh and wood sides and handle. You're too busy though, so maybe next year." I didn't give it another thought.

Later in the week Jay comes out of his shop holding the PERFECT harvest basket. He had made it in between other projects he was working on. Such a sweet gift!

So now, Ollie and I take our harvest basket with us to the garden on our daily check-in.

looking up one of our mammoth sunflowers

the 2 mammoth sunflowers that survived the whistle pig feast are on the left

Homestead Projects

We have a list of projects that we are hoping to accomplish before fall. We've managed to check off some of the easier projects, but not so much the larger projects. Here's what we're chipping away at:

paint the dining room (done)

stain the back deck (done)

paint the living room

fix columns and lay new flooring on one of the two front porches (second porch will be done next year)

paint 2 sides of the house (same color, just refreshing it - the other 2 sides will be done next year)

install fence around the garden (temporarily done - permanent fencing will be done next spring)

build and install a new outdoor pole light in the front yard

build a small nesting box area/water station for garden (so when the chickens are tasked with the garden fall clean-up, they have a place to lay eggs)

chop and stack wood for the woodstove in the shop (done although we may chop a bit more)

install gutters on the outbuildings and hook-up rain barrels (done)

create a raised bed hoop house for one of our garden beds so we can grow greens through late fall/early winter (done for now - we purchased/found the items needed to make this in fall)

Animals

We are not going to add any more animals to the homestead for now and that includes chickens. The current flock will get smaller, gradually, as the inevitable happens. We had one pass away this week, she was one of the older girls, and we fully anticipate a few more passing this year from old age. It certainly doesn't get any easier to deal with death, but at least we have developed a bit of a plan now, of keeping them safe and comfortable during the process. We also know more about signs, because with chickens, they usually mask illness. This helps us so we can watch closer and try to make sure they are protected.

Death is one of the parts of having animals that is so difficult. Unfortunately, as birds become sick and/or begin the dying process, some of the others can become very cannibalistic. It's not a pretty sight. So once we see that one of the girls isn't feeling well, we are able to remove them, but not totally, from the flock. They are social creatures, so full removal seems to make them stressed and upset. Instead, we make sure they are separated by a fence allowing them to still feel a part of the flock without getting incessantly pecked at and stepped on. And no, we don't let them suffer. If there's any sign of that, and we've done all we can do to make them well, we step in.

Our overall plan is to get out of the egg-selling business and keep a very small flock (6-8 girls). With a flock of 24 girls, it will take some time for the flock to naturally reduce (we're down from the 32 we had last year), so we won't be bringing in any chicks until we have less then 8 girls.

zucchini chocolate chip muffins

What Do You Do With All Of That Zucchini?

Isn't this the question you ask yourself every single year? I always think I have a plan to keep up with it but I struggle by August. I give it a heck of an effort though. Here's what we've been doing with our zucchini:

slicing it lengthwise and grilling it (alternatively, you could broil or bake it). We both love it. Jay sprinkles a bit of parmesan on his and I like mine plain. It's sooooo juicy and delicious.

cutting it into chunks and sautéing it with onions and corn. I add a bit of butter to Jay's and mine is plain. We just love the combination.

stuffing it. As noted in this weekending post (at the bottom), I always enjoy coming up with new stuffing ideas. The key is to bake, boil, or grill the scooped out zucchini halves before you fill and bake them so they are nice and soft once finished.

making our very favorite chocolate zucchini cake. Even my husband who isn't the world's biggest chocolate fan LOVES both versions. The original version is here. The healthier/reduced oil and sugar version is here.

making Kate's recipe for healthier zucchini bread.

making zucchini and chocolate chip muffins. They are ah-mazing! I just realized I've never shared the recipe here. I'll try to get that on the blog!

making zucchini noodles with homemade pesto. Soooo good!

adding zucchini to grilled kebabs. (everything gets marinated in italian dressing first)

adding zucchini to soups such as minestrone.

making zucchini cobbler. (tastes just like apple cobbler)

making veggie stew. I use zucchini and whatever fresh veg is in the garden to make stew as the temps begin to drop in the fall.

I'm not a big fan of eating it raw (there's a weirdness to it) or as zucchini "fries", so those didn't make the list. We've made zucchini pickles in the past but we aren't huge pickle eaters so I haven't been making them.

I'd love to hear your family's favorite ways to eat zucchini!

Oliver, my garden/kitchen/preserving/everything helper

Preserving, Or, What We'll Be Eating This Winter

Since our garden is now in full swing, the preserving process has finally begun!

Green beans - as noted above, they are being put up in the freezer weekly.

Peppers - so far we've only collected enough jalapeno's to preserve, so those have been made into pickled jalapeno rings.

Relish - our cucumbers are struggling this year. I've never had an issue with cukes, so I'm not sure what's happening. So we purchased some cucumbers from the farmer's market and, along with our bell peppers and onions we'll can enough relish for my husband to enjoy with his occasional hot dog lunch.

Zucchini - I did freeze some grated zucchini (portioned into 2 cup servings) that I can add to muffins, quick breads, etc.

Onions - we are drying quite a few and then I'll chop and freeze the remainder.

How do you figure out how much veggies to preserve? This is a question I receive a lot. For us, this is how I plan it. We typically rotate the same dishes all winter long so I can usually predict how often during the week we'll eat veggies such as green beans, broccoli, winter squash, tomato sauce, etc. I then times that by how many weeks we'll need preserved food and that's how I calculate it. So, as an example, I plan on serving green beans twice a week for 28 weeks which means I will need to freeze 56 bags of green beans (bagged in single-serving sizes).

It gets a bit more difficult with carrots, corn, onions, canned chopped tomatoes, and peppers because I use them on their own as well as in many different dishes. Over time, through trial and error, I've made it so I can get pretty close. For the frozen veggies, I flash-freeze them and then store them in large, gallon-size bags, so I can just take out what I need when I'm cooking.

That's July around the homestead!

This Month On The Farm: July 2020 was originally posted by My Favorite Chicken Blogs(benjamingardening)

0 notes

gainaxvel3o · 4 years

Text

Killer Faeries in the Warehouse

Jablonsky had seen better nights.

As the janitor, he had the job of cleaning the halls of the warehouse. Not a web nor a speck of dust should be seen, or it’s his paycheck on the chopping block along with a halfway decent meal for the ‘morrow. Jablonsky only sighed, the warehouse’s darkness framed by a moonlight full of mockery. If he were more sufficiently annoyed he would stretch out his hand to grab that blasted moon and stuff it into his mouth like swiss cheese. But swiss cheese moons would not be tasty, nor give him insurance, only a stomach ache with a dash of disappointment.

So Jablonsky decided not do that.

Instead, he locked the door behind himself, confident in his good work. He was just finishing up the job, the warehouse eerie quiet as per usual. Jablonsky never asked questions about the cargo, but he heard the stories. People going missing, strange lights, a moan from the bathroom… not the interesting kind either. Textbook haunted house yadda yadda. Like Jablonsky could give a crud. Not his responsibility if people went missing. He’s been working here for years and hadn’t seen jack all. What a bunch of nonsense! The only other person here is the security guard, Joey, and he hadn’t seen shit either.

Wax on, wax off… Jablonsky rode the mop ‘till the end of the hallway, bumping with the door. Just a little bump, not much. Just enough to cause a creaking sound to be heard. The door had opened by itself.

Wait… this couldn’t be right, Jablonsky thought to himself. He had made sure to lock all the doors. There was no way he could have possibly missed one.

"Anyone's idea of a practical joke come on out!"

He shouted to the void, but no one was there. Just the quiet and himself. Not the best pair on a date night.

Jablonsky looked up at the sign. The security room. Joey’s door. That can’t be right, Joey’s a tough officer. No way he’d just leave the door open for no reason.

“Joey!” Jablonsky yelled out. “You left the door open what the hell?”

He pushed the door open, and he went inside.

“Sleepin’ on the job ey Joey? Becha the boss will cut some of your pay and give me a raise if I yell on ya right? So what’s the big dea- OW!“

A terrible sharp pain pricked at his foot. Jablonsky grabbed it as soon as it came. The foot was bleeding, stabbed through by glass at the floor.

Jablonsky would yell. He should be yelling, asking what Joey was thinking leaving glass around for no reason. But as he turned his head upwards Jablonsky could only look on in silence and horror at the sight he came across.

His partner for the night, Joey, had been reduced to a pasty red slab of meat on the floor, with glimpses of white bone underneath the carcass. The signs of struggle were visible on his desperate face. The computers that would ordinarily show the rooms and hallways of the warehouse had been reduced to broken glass and pouring smoke. The walkie talkie used to communicate to the outside world lied dead.

But none of that compared to the... things floating around it all.

Little creatures of white and dark, their cheery voices and their wild manic hair juxtaposing their red as blood teeth. Their ravenous hunger had caused them to chew on the cables and white arms (that Jablonsky speculated belonged to more of their kind). These cannibalistic creatures of pure evil either sat on the broken monitors laughing like they were sharing a cruel sick joke amongst themselves or flew around the room trying to catch one another.

As Jablonsky stood still, the sprites had drew their attention towards him.

“No… no no no NO!” Jablonsky yelled. "STAY BACK! PLEASE!"

He turned around towards the door, but by then it was too late. The last thing he heard before the pain a chorus of laughter, the cruelest he had ever heard…

#faeries #writing #what if they were evil #did it for a friend #killer faeries #warehouse #story #short story #ficlet? yeah #ficlet

0 notes

dam1en-69 · 1 month

Text

gore warning a bit ⚠️

ghouls

shit drawings i made weeks ago before i passed out from not sleeping for 2 days straight

14 notes · View notes

nightmareonfilmstreet · 6 years

Text

[Overlook Review] BLUE MY MIND is an Ethereal, Slow-Burn Body Horror

Is there anything more terrifying to a teen girl than coming into adulthood? I think not. Cinema has often used the ‘coming-of-age’ arch to tell stories about individual journeys, love, and loss. Horror is no different, even though it seeks the extreme of the spectrum. What better example of a real-life Cronenbergian Body Horror than growing added appendages where there once were none? Perhaps even a hint of Werewolfism from the addition of new body hair? And women can all relate to Carrie (and perhaps even the elevators in the The Shining) with regards to the monthly red ‘gift’ (read: curse), periods.

While transformation and coming-of-age themed horror movies aren’t a new exploration, it’s the method of storytelling that has evolved as of recent. Opting for more intimate character studies, using emotion over scare, and creating a sense of scope and isolation are the new tools in the growing-up spooky toolkit. Like recent films; the cannibalistic Raw (2017), the maybe metaphorical monster of Der Nachtmahr (2015), and being haunted by one’s own sexuality in It Follows (2015). And now, writer/director Lisa Brühlmann’s exploration of growing up mermaid in Blue My Mind.

Blue My Mind follows Swiss new girl Mia (Luna Wedler). Desperate to swim among the school of cool kids, she quickly adopts their apathetic, chaotic lifestyle. Stealing, drinking, drugs, even dabbling in auto-asphyxia prove Mia to be a worthy addition to the elite girl group. Led by the bold and fearless Gianna (Zoë Pastelle Holthuizen), Mia explores the deep sea of teenage bush parties, girls-only bedroom hangouts, and living a life free from the should-be watchful eye of parents.

As Mia finds herself climbing the hierarchy within the group, her desperation to fit in grows. She notices strange changes occurring to her body – a hunger that wasn’t there before, bruising and flaking on her legs, a membrane growing between her toes. Afraid these malformations will jeopardize her newfound status, Mia straddles the mental hurdle of pretending none of it is real, and fearing the moment when everything will come crashing around her. (Maybe picture waves even, if you’d like another water metaphor)

“Whatever she’s becoming, wherever this journey takes her, we resonate – because our bodies once did the same thing..”

Though Blue My Mind is slow in pace, those along the ride won’t find themselves bored. Mia is a tortured, enigmatic soul. Even as she descends deeper into her transformation, she is an emotionally intelligent girl butting heads with volatility and chaos. She engages in risky sexual behavior. Men eye her like prey, but she is ultimately in control. Serving up shoves as often as ‘sures‘. Whatever she’s becoming, wherever this journey takes her, we resonate – because our bodies once did the same thing.

Blue My Mind is an ethereal exploration into the life of a teenage girl, and everything it entails. There are very true fears here and very real emotions wrapped in this mermaid enigma. Every single one of them is worth exploring.

Mermaids are all the rage right now. Coming off the heels of 2015’s Polish mermaid musical The Lure, and TV’s man-eating series Siren, Blue My Mind nestles itself in good company. Perhaps with the evolving movement of womens’ rights, particularly in the forefront right now in Hollywood, Mermaids make perfect sense as a horror trope worth exploring. Unless talking King Tritan, the mermaid is usually depicted as a beautiful young woman. Fiesty, but timid. Daring, but quiet. And often times, with a taste for male flesh. What better way to address gender norms than harnessing the power of something mythical, larger than life, that’s hidden under flowing hair, shell cups, and a fish tail?

We caught Blue My Mind as part of the 2018 Overlook Film Festival in New Orleans, Louisiana. Stick around Nightmare on Film Street for even more festival coverage, and check out our Twitter and Instagram pages for highlights from the event.

Blue My Mind is currently on the Festival Circuit, and has not yet received US release. We’ll update you here at Nightmare on Film Street when release news swims into view! (I couldn’t help myself with that last one)

The post [Overlook Review] BLUE MY MIND is an Ethereal, Slow-Burn Body Horror appeared first on Nightmare on Film Street - Horror Movie Podcast, News and Reviews.

from WordPress https://nofspodcast.com/overlook-review-blue-my-mind-is-an-ethereal-slow-burn-body-horror/ via IFTTT

#IFTTT #WordPress #horror #horror movies #nightmareonfilmstreet #nightmare on film street #horror pod

0 notes

believerindaydreams · 7 years

Text

I’ve added the “whump” tag to the fic on AO3.

I’ve already put the Innocent Spy through a long list of calamities (though come to think of it, most of them showed up on the TV show at one point or another. Except for the cannibalistic cultists). But now that I’m taking his Swiss Army Knife away, I feel obligated to warn any unwary MacGyver fans that Bad Things Will Happen.

Oh well, at least I’ve left him the Parabola linen duck tape.

#macgyver #fic

0 notes

itsiotrecords-blog · 7 years

Link

http://ift.tt/2ro28rk

Although in post modern society superstitions don’t have much of a place, at least not in the typical sense (think OCD). For most of history, superstitions around the world have played a huge role in shaping cultures and societies. Whether superstition examples include old wives tales, urban legends, or just scary stories, every group has their share of them. These are the 25 strangest superstitions from around the world.

#1 Cannibalistic gum chewing in Turkey In some parts of Turkey you may want to think twice before whipping out the chewing gum. There is a belief that if you are chewing gum at night it is actually rotting dead flesh.

#2 Groaning cheese for a newborn You’ve probably heard of swiss cheese, cheddar cheese, or pepper jack cheese but have you heard of Groaning Cheese? In Medieval England, expectant mothers made what they called a ‘Groaning Cheese’ which was a large wheel of cheese that matured for nine months as the unborn baby grew. When the ‘groaning time’ or time of birth came, the whole family would celebrate by eating this cheese until nothing but the outer rind was left. The newborn would then be passed through the rind on Christening day to be blessed with a long and prosperous life. What a cheesy superstition!

#3 Good luck horseshoe Some people believe in order to bring good luck and to keep nightmares away, you must hang a horseshoe in the bedroom or on a door knob with its ends pointing upwards. This belief stems from the fact that a horse shoe has seven holes, which is considered to be a lucky number, and is made of iron, so it can supposedly ward off evil spirits that may haunt you in your dreams.

#4 Friday the 13th Friday the 13th has been a source of superstition ever since the 19th century. Though it’s origin is shrouded in speculations and theories, it’s impact is quite evident. Many people will purposely avoid doing anything significant (like business meetings, socials, banquets, etc) due to the belief that the day is cursed and its a source of ill fortune.

#5 Curse of the Opal stone If your absolute favorite stone is the Opal, you’re out of luck…literally since this stone is said to bring bad luck to whoever wears it. This superstition stemmed from the best selling novel ‘Anne of Geierstein’ by Sir Walter Scott in 1829 where Lady Hermione was falsely accused of being a demon as she dies shortly after a drop of holy water accidentally falls on her opal jewelry and changes its color. This book had such an effect on the image of the Opal that shortly after its publication, the Opal market crashed and Opal prices dropped by 50%.

#6 Ringing of the bells Have you ever wondered why bells are always associated with weddings and special occasions? As it turns out, bells are sounded during special occasions due to the widely held belief that bells frighten evil spirits away. This belief originated during Queen Elizabeth’s reign for two reasons; to ask for prayers for the departed soul and to drive away the evil spirits who stood at the foot of the bed.

#7 Bird poop equals riches Don’t worry, you read the title right. In Russia, there is a belief that if a bird defecates on you, your car or your property it’s a sign good luck and may bring you riches. The more birds involved, the richer you’ll be! So next time a bird poops on you, just count it all joy.

#8 Old, new, borrowed, blue This popular wedding tradition is said to have originated during the Victorian era and involves giving the bride various gifts. One is something old and represents continuity; another is new and represents hope and the future; the third is borrowed and symbolizes borrowed happiness while the last is blue and is supposed to bring purity, love, and fidelity.

#9 Black cats, bad luck Most people have heard the saying that if a black cat crosses your path its bad luck (if you haven’t well now you have). This interesting superstition finds it’s origin in the middles ages due to the misconstrued belief that single women (usually elderly) who associated themselves with many cats where actually witches who could become cats themselves. Thus a black cat crossing your path could actually be a witch.

#10 Unlucky smoking triad From the Crimean War through World War I, it was considered bad luck among soldiers to light three cigarettes with one match. It was theorized that by the time the third cigarette was lit, a sniper would have had the time to have the soldier in his sight, ready to make the kill. However, some believe that the superstition may have been invented by match tycoon Ivar Krueger to drum up more business.

#11 Counting crows No, im not referring to the 90′s band. It’s believed that the amount of crows in a murder has the ability to predict your fortune as exemplified by the popular phrase: “One’s bad / Two’s luck / Three’s health / Four’s wealth / Five’s sickness / Six is death.” More than six however seems to be up to the person whose counting.

#12 Jinxed birds The Wryneck or Jinxtorquilla are a breed of birds that can twist their heads very liberally. A superstitious belief among the locals is that if this bird twists its head towards you, death is on the horizon.

#13 Soul capturing mirrors Most people use mirrors everyday which means, according to this superstition, most people are soulless. There is a superstition that states that looking into a mirror steals your soul. This superstition definition helps explain why the evil queen uses a mirror to harm Snow White, why Narcissus was ensnared by his own reflection, and why soulless vampires have no reflection. Think twice before you look into the bathroom mirror…you have been warned.

#14 Fingers crossed for good luck To cross one’s fingers is a hand gesture commonly used for good luck. Which makes sense since it was used during ancient Christian persecution by believers to identify other believers as a sign of peace. Today however, this has evolved to excuse the telling of white lies which may have its roots in the belief that the power of the Christian cross may save a person from being sent to hell for telling a lie.

#15 Photographic soul cage When photography was first invented in the early 19th century, people all over the world held the unfounded belief that taking someone’s picture was akin to taking his soul. Thus if an enemy was able to obtain a photograph of you, he not only held your soul but also held a spiritual power over you. Thank goodness this is just a superstition, I can only imagine how many people would have power over me…(IE. Facebook).

#16 Unlucky number 13 Not to be confused with Friday the 13th (which is a superstition of the actual day) but similar in nature, this superstition simply states that the number 13 is associated with bad luck. That’s why many architects refused (some still do) to design stairs that ended with 13 steps or buildings that ended with a 13th floor. The fear of the number 13 is so real to many people, that an actual phobia has been created to describe it; its called Triskaidekaphobia. (try to say that 13 times fast).

#17 When you wish upon a star The superstition involving wishing on the first star you see in the evening is somewhat uncertain, however Europeans believed that the gods would occasionally peer down, and when they moved the sky, a star would escape and fall down. The Greeks also believed that the stars where falling human souls, and it was lucky to make a wish on them.

#18 Opening an umbrella indoors According to superstition, if you open an umbrella indoors you are literally asking for bad luck to “rain on you”. One explanation comes from the days when umbrellas were used as protection from the sun; opening one inside was an insult to the sun god who would then curse you with bad luck. Another theory states that an umbrella protects you against the storms of life, so opening one inside your house insults the guardian spirits of your home (whom also protects you from the storms of life), causing them to leave you unprotected.

#19 New broom, new house, bad luck There are many superstitions associated with brooms (heck, that could be a list all in itself) but there is one very curious and particular superstition that we want to caution you on. As the lore goes, you cannot sweep dirt out of a new house (or apartment) with a new broom unless you sweep something in first. If you don’t sweep something in first, then you will be sweeping out your good luck. Do not sweep out your good luck!

#20 Lucky rabbit’s foot To have this token is an unfortunate thing for the rabbit but a magnet of fortune for the wearer. According to superstition (which can be traced as far back as the seventh century BC) the rabbit’s supernatural luck could be exploited by taking the left hind foot of a rabbit that was shot (or captured) in a creepy cemetery on a full moon.(I still fail to see how this is lucky for the rabbit).

#21 Knock on wood Knocking on wood, or simply saying “knock on wood” after making a hopeful statement, finds it’s roots in the idea that you’re tempting fate by acknowledging your good fortune. It’s believed that the expression comes from an ancient belief that good spirits lived in trees, so by knocking on something wooden, a person was calling on the spirits for protection. Another reason why we should all be tree hugers.

#22 Breaking a mirror We’ve already mentioned how mirrors are believed to be soul sucking mystical items (which is bad enough) but what happens when you break these devices of misfortune? Why, seven years of bad luck of course! Some superstitious sources state that the trapped souls adversely influence your luck. And here you thought you were doing them a favor! Nope, make sure those suckers stay inside that mirror.

#23 “God bless you” For many; saying “God Bless You” after someone sneezes is a gesture of politeness. However, the origin of this interesting superstition finds its roots in Pope Gregory the Great who would say it to people who sneezed during the bubonic plague; and from the erroneous belief that the soul escapes the body during a sneeze and the heart momentarily stops. Therefore, saying “God bless you” was a way of welcoming the person back to life.

#24 Four-leaf clover Though the origin of the superstition: wishing over a four-leaf clover is lost to antiquity it has long been a symbol of good luck and fortune. It has also been used in some traditions for finding a husband or a wife. The way this works (for you single people) is by first finding a four leaf clover (good luck with that one), if you happen to find one, you must then eat it (or put it inside your shoe…but eating is more fun). After this, the luck powers will activate and the first person you come contact after the activation will be your future mate…(Word of warning, stay clear of anyone you don’t want as a future mate).

#25 Itchy palms There seems to be a lot of variations on this superstition, but the idea of having an itchy palm generally refers to someone who is greedy or has an insatiable desire for money. Some people believe that if the right palm itches, you will lose money, while an itchy left palm means that money is coming your way. If both palm itches…you may want to go to a doctor for that.

Source: List25

#IoTRecords

0 notes

benjamingarden · 4 years

Text

This Month On The Farm: July 2020

Tents - Not Just For Camping

gutters and rain barrel installed!

Barrels Of Rain

Harvesting

our sweet potato hill

Later in the week Jay comes out of his shop holding the PERFECT harvest basket. He had made it in between other projects he was working on. Such a sweet gift!

So now, Ollie and I take our harvest basket with us to the garden on our daily check-in.

looking up one of our mammoth sunflowers