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maih-em · 4 years

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who am i tag

i was tagged by @fitzrove - thank you!!! :)

Name: Emma (a nice and generic one!)

Nicknames: Honestly don’t think I have one? My family occasionally call me Em but not a lot. I spent my whole childhood bitter that my name wasn’t very nickname friendly.

Zodiac: Gemini (but I’m kind of on the cusp of Cancer so it depends on what website you look at, I think. I always say Gemini though.)

Height: Literally bang on 5ft I’m so small

Languages: English. Also, I’ve done 7 years of Spanish in school so I’d like to think I’m semi-fluent (but my Spanish teacher would probably say different)

Nationality: British

Favourite season: SPRING. Like I love autumn for the aesthetic and summer because it’s holiday time, but spring is just so PRETTY. There’s something so lovely in realising suddenly that the air just feels different and that winter is giving way to spring. I love a good crisp spring afternoon when you don’t need a coat, but it isn’t too hot to wear one if you want to.

Favourite flower: I don’t really know a lot of flowers but orchids are so beautiful (but I find the concept of growing them very intimidating – my mum’s are constantly thriving and I don’t think I can ever live up to it)

Favourite scent: Just classic things like fresh cut grass, rain when it hasn’t rained for ages. I also love the smell of tomato stalks & also coffee (but this is a very Different vibe and depends on my mood)

Favourite fictional character: Well I have to say Morse (mainly Endeavour era but I’m slowly working my way through the original Inspector Morse series) & obviously Peter Jakes (my son). I haven’t finished watching the Witcher yet but Jaskier is such an icon! Other favourites include Dirk Gently (in the BBC America series) and Richard MacDuff (in the older BBC Dirk Gently series) 10th & 13th Doctors, Ollie from the Thick of It, and Fleabag!!

Coffee, hot tea, or hot chocolate: Tea 100%. I’m not a huge fan of hot chocolate – I find it too sickly even though I have the sweetest tooth known to man (I generally just eat the cream and marshmallows off the top and then immediately get fed up with it). Coffee I’ll have occasionally but nothing beats a good cup of tea. I have mine black and really weak (it’s basically just water to be honest) and sometimes I’ll but a little bit of sugar in it. And I love an Earl Grey if I’m feeling fancy!

Average sleep: When I don’t have to get up for college I’ll literally sleep until like 10 or 11 am, but that’s normally because I go to bed really late (recently I’ve struggled to go to bed before 1 because it feels like more effort to go to sleep than it is to stay up on my laptop). Generally I get a minimum of 7 hours.

Dogs or cats: cats all the way. I’ve not ever had pets and see very few animals in my day to day life, but dogs just intimidate me idk. I only like small breeds but even then, it’s a fine line. Cats, on the other hand, though I see a depressingly small number of cats and get to pet even fewer, are PERFECT IN EVERY WAY.

Number of blankets: 1

Dream trip: Probably going back to Iceland because I love it there, or to various mainland European cities like Amsterdam, Berlin etc.

Blog established: about April 2019 I think?? I’d just watched Icarus and was desperately looking for George Fancy content because I was crying too much to sleep. Only actively started using it around the summer because I had managed to lock myself out of the account because my browser fucked up so I couldn’t log in with an autosaved password and I have far too many emails/passwords/lost Tumblr accounts that finding it was almost hopeless. I swear every email I could think of ever having logged me into yet another discarded Tumblr that I’d made at some point between 2015 and 2017 and never used again.

Random fact: uhh I have no idea what to say for this I’m so boring. Literally all I can think of right now is that I see pain kind of as shapes? Idk how to explain that u can do with that information what you will.

Gender: female

Current time: 8:55pm

Favourite artists: Hozier, Ashnikko, Pulp, idkhow, sundara karma and probably millions more.

Stuck in my head: Say So by Doja Cat because it keeps coming up as an ad on Youtube and Instagram.

Last movie I saw: I watch films so rarely that I genuinely don’t know I’m having to try so hard to remember literally any films I’ve watched in the past year ugh. I think it was Maurice at some point between October and December but late 2019 has all merged into one for me so I have no clue what.

Last thing I Googled: what the dates were for being a Gemini or Cancer for one of the earlier questions.

Other blogs: none that I use- if I were to try and find every Tumblr that I’ve ever had we would literally be here all day.

Do I get asks: Not really, I did an ask challenge recently only to learn that you had to enable asks to receive them on Tumblr, so that gives an idea of how good I am with technology oops. I’d love to answer any u guys have though!

Reason for URL: This is just the name of my a03 account. Honest to god I was making my a03 account in like 2018. because I had a fic I wanted to post and I was like hmmm, I need a funky username oh god I’m so bad at usernames and this was literally the first collection of words that came into my head. They mean absolutely nothing.

Followers/following: 27 followers, I’m following 41

Lucky number: I wouldn’t say I have a lucky number, but my favourite number is 4

Currently wearing: PJs, which was a mistake because it’s making it very hard to motivate myself to get up and have a well-needed shower.

Dream job: Idk I’ve always liked the idea of being a teacher but other than that I have absolutely no idea.

Favourite foods: Oh god this is so hard to pick. Redcurrants, minestrone soup, feta, kale, wraps, I could go on infinitely.

Instruments: I’ve owned a guitar for years and yet can only play a very small range of chords quite badly. I’m a little better at ukulele mainly because it’s a better size for my tiny hands. I play a little bit of piano, but I don’t practice as much as I’d like because I don’t like doing it when other people are around idk.

Favourite song: it changes all the time but currently Sour Times by the Civil Wars (which I found on @bryndeavour ’s ‘falling in a chain reaction’ playlist which I’ve been listening to almost exclusively for an entire week.) Also probably Damn it all by The Staves, working bitch by ashnikko, coconut skins by damien rice, that’s all i can think of right now

I’m sure most people have been tagged already but if anyone who hasn’t would like a go, consider this me tagging you!

#tag meme #these things really bring out my inability to stop talking #this is so long i got carried away

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sunyoonandstars · 6 years

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BTS Reaction 5: They unexpectedly get turned on by usual things you do/wear …

So, this series of reactions was honestly too much fun to write up and is based on the following request:

Thanks to whoever requested this! It turned out to be one of my favorite reactions I did so far! I hope y’all enjoy reading it as much as I did writing it! 😁

Have fun!

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Scenario The boys find themselves to be turned on by you … well, simply doing what you do, being who you are …

fluff, smut

Word count 2.744

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1. Kim Seokjin / Jin

Seokjin is usually not one to quickly pick up on sexual innuendoes, first and foremost considering you to be cute, lovely and adorable. But as he now enters the kitchen after a long day of work and practice, he is simply breathless. For several reasons. First of all his beloved kitchen is a mess. Secondly, however, there you are, due to the heat outside dressed in not much more than a pair of tight shorts, an excuse of a shirt and his apron, biting your lip lost in thought and focused on the task before you. You’re so preoccupied with chopping vegetables, you don’t even notice him enter the kitchen and sneak up behind you. When you surprisingly back off the stove to evade hot squirts of bubbling tomato sauce, you bump right into Jin, involuntarily pressing your back against his body, eliciting a low chuckle from him. „Whoa, y/n, what are you trying to do here, hmm?“, he teases you. Your reddening cheeks burning, you instinctively attempt to retreat. „I’m sorry, Jinnie, I didn’t know you were there.“ „Yah, don’t apologize, y/n“, he sheepishly grins, tilting his head while leaning over your shoulder to get a better look at your flushed face, wrapping his long arms tightly around your waist, giving you no chance to escape. Your backside being pressed closely to Jin’s front, you can clearly feel his growing bulge. To your surprise. Suddenly not minding his body heat adding on to the already sweat-inducing heat and stuffy summer air, you lean back even further, resting your full body against him, Jin’s slender hands slowly finding their way underneath your apron as you sway your bodies to the rhythm of the soft R&B music running in the background. „This is actually kind of nice, don’t you think?“, Jin whispers into your hair before going on to place a tender kiss on the delicate skin of your neck right underneath your ear. „What do you think, y/n? Can dinner wait for a bit?“ 

2. Min Yoongi / Suga

„Yah, y/n“, Yoongi suddenly growls in a low voice, jolting you out of your daydream and leading you to avert your gaze from the view from the restaurant’s window your seated by and direct it at him instead, questioningly raising an eyebrow at Yoongi’s sudden change of tone. „You’re doing it again.“ His expression deadpan, he impatiently points his chin at you. „Doing what?“, you ask, honestly clueless as to what might have upset him. „You’re biting your lip again, y/n. I told you not to do that anymore. You know how it gets to me“, he mutters, his voice husky, lowered so the guests sitting close by won’t be able to listen in. „Are you doing this on purpose?“ „Whatever are you insinuating!?“, you scoff, making no effort to keep a low profile, not caring if people hear you, actually starting to enjoy the effect your effortless, even subconscious teasing has on Yoongi. Much to his chagrin. He does not look amused. At all. „You know I hate it when you do that, y/n.“ „What?“ „Tease me. Get me all worked up in public like this. You know very well what you’re doing to me right now“, he shakes his head, chin slightly protruding, his tongue making an appearance in the corner of his mouth. You know what that means. „I had no idea, seriously. That lip biting thing is something I do without even being aware of it. It’s a habit.“ „Even worse“, Yoongi simply mumbles, scowling at you from across the table. „And now you’re doing it again.“ Guiltily, you stop chewing on your already sore lower lip. „Well, this time it was your fault though“, you admit, swallowing hard, feeling your cheeks blush as an intense heat slowly but surely starts building up in your lower abdomen, the air in between the two of you literally sizzling with sexual tension by now. You’re unable to avert your eyes from Yoongi’s tongue now firmly placed in his cheek while just the hint of a smirk twists his slightly pursed lips. „What can I get you?“, the unsuspecting waitress unexpectedly intrudes. „I believe we still need about ten more minutes, thank you“, Yoongi replies, his voice slightly hoarser than usual, without even sparing the server so much as a glance. She disappears with a polite nod. As soon as she has left, Yoongi leans over across the table, brusquely grabbing your hand, indicating you to abandon your seat and follow him. „I think we should go powder our pretty noses before she gets back, don’t you think, y/n?“

3. Jung Hoseok / J-Hope

You’re not doing much more than merely sit there by the window, unsuspecting, entirely immersed in the book cradled in your lap, your fingers absentmindedly twirling a strand of hair, oblivious to the fact that you are all the while being closely watched by your boyfriend. Suddenly, you feel Hoseok snuggle up to you, his arms subtly wrapping themselves around your waist from behind and his chin coming to a rest on your shoulder. Nevertheless, you remain engrossed in your reading, your eyes eagerly following the lines before you, not even once deviating from the pages to spare him so much as a glance. „Jagiya“, Hoseok whispers against your neck, gently nibbling at your earlobe, the sensation sending an involuntary shiver down your spine. A distant „Hmm“, however, is all his attempts at being a distraction can educe from you. „Jagiyaaaa“, he goes on to whine after a few more minutes, gradually losing patience when faced with your lack of reaction. „What, Hobi?“, you eventually sigh, still not raising your eyes. „This“, he moans into the crook of your neck, having brushed aside your hair and covering your skin with tender, increasingly urgent kisses, his lips slowly moving from your neck downwards until they reach the rim of your shirt. In order to clarify what he was referring to, he now moves in even closer, letting you feel his growing bulge pressed up against your backside. Accompanied by a surprised chuckle, an understanding „Oh“ now escapes you. „Yeah, oh“, Hoseok softly hums, his lips never once leaving your skin. Smiling, you finally put away your book and turn your head to look at him over your shoulder, leaning down to catch his mouth for a quick, sloppy kiss. He grins at your lips. „How’d that happen, hm?“, you ask, now turning around in his lap, your legs encircling his toned waist. „You were reading.“ „Oh, now me reading turns you on, too?“, you laugh in between kisses. „Yeah. Also, you were doing this thing with your hair. You know, that twirly thing that always makes me go …“ He finishes his sentence with a more urging kiss, skillfully slipping his tongue through your lips to meet yours. „Also, you just being you is turn on enough for me, y/n“, Hoseok breathlessly whispers, seemingly effortlessly getting up and lifting you onto his hips in one smooth movement. „Now, let's take this someplace our neighbors won’t see …“

4. Kim Namjoon / RM

„What? What is it, Joon?“, you inquire as you shed your jacket to place it on the backrest of your chair, confused by the sudden shift in Namjoon’s expression. Mouth agape, he simply stares at you - your chest, to be more precise - slightly tilting his head now, biting his lip. The intense look he’s giving you inspires a hot blush to slowly creep up your neck and tint your cheeks a rosy pink. „Joon, stop staring like that. You’re embarrassing me“, you hiss at him while you take a seat at your table in the back corner of a crowded bar. „What is it?“ His lips tightly pressed together, a roguish grin tugging at them nonetheless, Namjoon now meets your gaze, raising an eyebrow and pointing his protruding chin at the shirt you’re wearing. A plain white shirt. Nothing special at all. „What about that shirt?“ „Who’s shirt is that?“, he answers your question with a question, a telling smile now revealing his compelling dimples, the sight of them once again, even after all this time, turning your knees to water. „I don’t know. I just grabbed it from the bed when you called me. Why?“ Confused, you look down at your top, for the first time actually paying attention to what you’re wearing. „Oh“, you sigh, understanding. „Yeah, right, that’s my shirt, y/n“, Namjoon smirks. „You know full well what you wearing my clothes in public like that does to me. How dare you?“ With burning cheeks, unable to hide the glow of excitement now coating your features, you simply shrug your shoulders, grinning knowingly as you watch Namjoon slowly walk around the table and towards you, the anticipation of his touch sending your heart racing. You can feel your arousal increase by the second, your surroundings, the stuffy air and chattering people filling the bar, the loud music, becoming inexistent the second Namjoon’s hot hands grab you by your waist and find their way onto your bare skin. „Y/n, you know what that means, right?“, he whispers into your ear as he pulls you close, his lips teasing you, barely even grazing your neck. „Your place or my place?“, you ask, leaning into his embrace, your skin tingling under his touch. „How about the car instead?“

5. Park Jimin

Smiling, Jimin watches you from the door. His eyes stay fixed on your figure — only dressed in his oversized shirt and boxers, your hair still messy due to last night’s activities, tied up in a loose bun — as you dance around the kitchen while preparing breakfast, apparently unaware of your audience of one, swaying your hips in time with the sensual beat of the R&B tune blaring from the loudspeakers you just recently had installed. Obviously, you’re loving them. And Jimin’s loving your dancing. A little too much, perhaps. He didn’t even notice his fond smile turn into a lustful lip bite or his erection slowly building up while he was keenly observing your intuitive moves. You’re still so immersed in blending what seems to be batter for pancakes, you don’t even notice Jimin coming up to you. An adorable squeal escapes you when he suddenly wraps his arms around you from behind. „Jimin-ah, you startled me“, you smile, turning your head to meet his lips in a quick kiss before you apply yourself to your cooking again, quickly easing into Jimin’s embrace, his body now swaying in sync with yours. „I’ll be done here soon, baby, you can go and lie back down, watch some TV or set the table. You really shouldn't feel obliged to keep me company. I’ll be fine by myself here.“ „But I won’t be, y/n“, he objects in a whiny voice, hugging you even more tightly now, putting his soft lips to the back of your neck covering it in kisses. „Can’t you tell, baby?“ You actually can now that you slightly shift in his embrace. Startled by the sensation of Jimin’s hard member pressing against your backside, you look at him over your shoulder, eyes wide, cheeks instantly flushed. „Well …“, you start out, your voice, however, surprisingly hoarse, drying up in mid-sentence. Unable to hold back an amused chuckle, you put down the mixing bowl so you can turn around in Jimin’s arms and face him. „What was it this time? My cooking? Seriously!?“ „No. Your dancing, y/n“, he whines, stealing kisses in between words. „What!?“, you gasp, incredulous. „It’s not even that good.“ „But far too sexy. So, since this is clearly your fault —“, Jimin mutters under his shallow breath, kissing you more roughly now, biting your lower lip before disconnecting your mouths as he lifts you on top of the kitchen counter. „— you better take responsibility for your actions.“

6. Kim Taehyung

„I’m here, Tae!“, you announce, smiling broadly as you enter the dorm. „Sorry, I’m late, baby. I was held up on my way here“, you call out, poking your head through the door to the living room where you find Taehyung sprawled out on the sofa, watching some anime he immediately turns off as soon as he becomes aware of your presence. „Don’t sweat it, y/n“, he mumbles as he gets up, breathing a deep sigh. „It’s still early and the weather is perfect. The sun even came out.“ Only now Taehyung turns around to look at you for the first time, his sweet boxy smile quickly turning into something else, indefinable, his expression obviously darkening. „You’re not wearing any makeup“, he states in his deep, low voice, licking his lips as he slowly approaches you, giving you that intense stare of his that, as he knows all too well, still weakens your knees just as it did the very first time he turned it towards you. „Yeah, so?“ „You’re not wearing any makeup“, Taehyung simply repeats that one, simple, seemingly meaningless sentence. However, he gives it a whole new sense, emphasizing each syllable as he lets them leisurely drip from his rosy lips caught in an impish, lopsided grin, relishing every single word, his voice lowered to a husky whisper now that he stands right before you, his head slightly tilted and the deep wells of his dark eyes peering right into your soul, stirring up unexpected feelings. „I know“, you respond, instinctively, involuntarily bringing your voice down to a whisper as well, uncertain as to how to react, unable to deny the clearly growing sexual tension as Taehyung now grabs you by your waist, pulling you against his body. „You’re far too beautiful for your own good, y/n, you know“, he whispers, his eyes still locked with yours, even now that he painfully slowly lowers his lips onto yours, stopping cold in his movements right before they touch, leaving you desperately longing for his kiss and the delicate skin of your lips tingling in anticipation. „I think the amusement park can wait for now“, Taehyung then smirks, grinding his lower body against yours so most certainly can most certainly follow his drift. „I’m actually afraid it has to.“

7. Jeon Jungkook

At first, Jungkook had thought it to be an incredible and enticing idea to work out with you. Now, however, his opinion on the said matter is undoubtedly changing. Drastically. „Yah! Y/n! Stop it, alright!?“ Startled by him suddenly raising his voice at you, you stop cold in the middle of a deep squat, pulling out your earphones as you turn around to look at Jungkook, one eyebrow raised questioningly. „What? Why!?“ „Just … stop, okay?“, he growls, his jaw clenched, stepping up to you from behind. „This really isn’t working for me, y/n.“ „What? Us exercising together? Why? Did I get in your way or something? You should have just said something, Kookie“, you say, shrugging, slowly straightening yourself, going on to stretch your back. „Well, I guess you could say you got in my way, kind of“, he mutters, teeth gritted, throwing an anxious glance over his shoulder at the rest of the members, crowded together and openly gaping at the two of you, apparently amused, giggling abashedly. „What’s so funny to them?“, you wonder aloud, pointing your chin at the six men huddled up to each other, whispering. „Did I do something wrong?“ „Not exactly. Let’s just go, okay. There’s something we need to take care of. In private.“ „What? I don’t —“ Giving you an impatient glare, Jungkook now takes your hand and leads it to his crotch, your fingers making contact with a clearly palpable erection through the thin fabric of his trunks. An understanding „Oh“ slips out of your mouth, followed by a hardly stifled chuckle. „Yeah, oh“, Jungkook repeats, his dark eyes, locked with yours now, burning with lust and frustration. „It’s those damn yoga pants of yours“, he whispers into your ear, his staring hyungs long forgotten, leaning in so close you can feel his hot breath against your skin, the sensation sending shivers down your spine. „And those squats. Damn, y/n, they’re killing me. Admit it, you did this on purpose, right? You knew exactly this would happen. You banked on it. Be honest.“ „Well …“, you grin, guiltily gnawing at your lower lip, an involuntary moan escaping you as Jungkook’s grip around your wrist suddenly tightens. „Bad, bad girl. Now come and take care of this.“

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Hope you enjoyed them and are having a lovely day, wherever you are! Thanks for reading! Take care! 💜

Here you can find my Masterlist if you feel like checking out more of my BTS fiction!

All GIFs used are NOT mine. Credit goes to the initial creators. Thank you for your hard work and dedication.

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thatwasthenightthingschanged · 6 years

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three years of being clean

psa: I also posted this on my personal blog, if you want to check it out there. The pictures are me on this day in 2015, 2016, 2017 and today.

So. Three years. THREE YEARS. Typing it out alone sounds crazy. I can't believe I'm still on this way. One year felt unbelievable. Two years even more so (the links will lead you to my posts back then). But now I'm at three. And as weird as it feels, it feels also really amazing. Like a reason to be so proud of yourself.

I think I want to continue what I started last year, which is to look back at all that has changed this past year (I actually made another list just like an hour ago because I really didn't have the time to think about it that much up until today because of school and all).

My castle crumbled over night, I brought a knife to a gunfight, they took the crown but it's alright.

A lot of things have changed for the better.

Last year, I was just starting to participate in class, and I would not say I did it more frequently in every subject, but certainly in my French class and I actually got an A for participation this semester which is INSANE, considering that the last time I rightfully got an A was in like 7th grade I think. Although my high school time is over now and I never managed to be participating like a lot, a lot, it is alright. I know I have tried everything in my might and then again, three years in terms of evolving yourself are not that much.

Likewise, I have tried to be more vocal about my opinion. I don't think I'll ever be the loudest of the pack but I started to stand my ground quite a few times and I'm proud of myself for that.

I've also started to explore the space outside of my comfort zone. I have been to a couple of parties without completely feeling out of place and I tried to actively take steps to force myself out of it. For example, for our theatre play this year I chose a role that's really different from my actual persona on purpose, just to challenge myself. And it was really a lot of fun and amazing to find out that I can also play a tough and overly confident role if I want to. Generally, I have been trying to participate more, rather than to stay at home alone every day (though I still thoroughly enjoy doing so a lot).

Honesty was also a huge theme this past year. I have been more honest and open with friends, despite my crippling anxiety. I also tried to find out why I am so hesitant to share my honest feelings and I think it is because often times, others made me feel like my feelings aren't valid or that I'm blowing them out of proportion. But I need to realize that not everyone will treat me like that. It's better to share a secret than have it weighing you down until you crack. In addition to that, I've been more honest to myself, for example concerning my sexuality, which was quite difficult and I'm still not entirely there yet, but I'm trying, and perhaps that is enough for right now.

All of this doesn't mean that I never experience sadness or despair anymore. There are dark days, and days when I question myself, especially concerning school due to my graduation year. I have had a time in December when I was stressed out literally every day and likewise cried as much too, just because exams and due dates were really making me feel as if what I'm doing is not enough. I also barely had any time for myself anymore, which is actually crucial for my happiness as I am an introvert.

At the moment, I also find it quite difficult to express my love for others. Maybe that is because studying has me so self-focused that I'm sometimes losing sight of the people I love. I also find it harder to own up to mistakes in the way of just telling the other person "I'm sorry" (but I try to make it up through acts of kindness). I really want to change in that regard again.

I also still struggle with my face just randomly looking like a tomato and lots of people still completely can't grasp my persona but hey - who cares if the people who make no effort in trying to understand you don't? (but I still need to learn to accept attention in a healthy way, I guess)

To come back to the brighter side again, love-wise I've really been trying to recognize my self-worth and only surround myself with people who treat me right and not like a disposable toy (yes, I'm looking at you, guy from my summer job). And it feels really good actually. It kind of helps to remind myself of "We accept the love we think we deserve" and how each and everyone deserves the best.

My friends are also helping me with that. While I have actually lost contact to a few of them, I have grown closer with people I never thought I'd grow that close to. And I'm so thankful for their love and how they care for me although I don't always deserve it, regarding the way I sometimes forget to take care of our friendship.

Which brings me to you guys. I just want you to know that I still appreciate every single message or reply or like anyone of you ever sends my way when I'm just posting about my sadness on tumblr for example. I mentioned it before but I want to emphasize it again, so many of you are the reason why I am where I am today. And I will never, ever forget about that.

I hope you also never forget that you deserve the best. You deserve all the light in the world, friends who understand you and love. Sometimes it might feel like no one cares for you but that is really not true. I promise you. It cannot, and will not rain forever. I pinky promise. Life moves on. And someday you will be able to do that, too. Keep going. Please.

And at my role model and biggest inspiration Taylor Swift: I love you. You have shown me time and time again that you have to fight, you have to keep going and someday you'll make it to the sunnier side and it will all be worth it. Thank you for helping the little, terrified 14-year-old me believe in life and all its beauty again. Thank you, from the bottom of my heart. Please know that I would never leave your side.

I hope everyone gets a chance to find a life of their own.

I'm doing better than I ever was.

xxx Sarah

#three years of being clean

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winterscream4 · 4 years

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No Works and No Days (Part 1)

“Love me a good mystery! Tra-la-la!”

The toy soldier advanced forward, climbing over a cake of burned out Pal-Mals, layered with a crust of ash at the top.

“No one can stop me now! I am at the top! And the New York Ripper will soon be in my gr…”

“AHAH!”

Another toy soldier landed from the sky, his spruce green face crudely washed over with pigments of white. Black circles enveloped his eyes and red paint was smudged round his lips.

“No, my dearest Marlowe! The world belongs to me! You better Hyde up or play dead! Not even the devil himself, can save you now!”

“Damn you Hyde! Run back into the gutter where you dragged your stinking ass from! Pew! Pew!”

A third soldier figure arose from behind the ashen pile. Threads of black cloth had been crudely sewn round his torso, ending in a double tail meant to resemble a 19th century frock.

“Time for you both to face the Music! Your Meister has arrived! Your pathetic strife shall serve as fine material for my new sonata! Ha-hah-hah-hah! John Martin, you are nothing but a hack! As for you detective, I shall strike you on the back! KABANG!”

Ding-Ding!

Marlowe dropped his toys and rushed to the microwave. White fumes and the scent of crackling meats met his nostrils, as he dragged out what some may called a club-sandwich but what most cardiologists would call the back road to an early grave.

Six slices of bread, the first filled with bacon and cheddar cheese, the second with barbeque sauce and potato fritters, the third with tomato, pork sausage and ketchup, the fourth with mayo and chicken nuggets, the fifth with beef and sour sauce and the sixth with grated parmesan and two fried eggs. A gruesome pile of carbohydrates and animal fat, self-humorously named by and after its inventor.

The Marlowe Sub. Also known as the shortest possible route to the emergency room.

With that monstrosity in hand, Marlowe hauled his newly acquired twenty-pound-extra beer-belly to the dining table, where he rested on a night-sky themed chair, made in 1924 as a gift from Clara Winter, to her son Robert, a few months before she perished from pneumonia. Marlowe, had spent the last two years of his life in the Winter manor, first setting in the Fall of 2018, when he attended the funeral of Christopher Winter’s housekeeper, James Krumphau.

James was diagnosed with liver cancer the previous year but kept it a secret from everyone he knew, including Marlowe. Yet again the people James knew count scarcely be counted in the fingers of two hands. James was never exactly the socialite, having spent half of his life serving the Winter family and the other half, being Christopher’s right hand man during his Music Meister years.

The housekeeper was always nice to him, albeit a little distant. Marlowe had garnered suspicions, that there were certain dark spots in James’ private history, albeit he paid no regard to them for long. After all, since his 2012 brush with Martin and the Black Glove, the classic detective novel mystery of “Who’s the criminal” had been reversed into “Who isn’t?”.

Even if James had claimed his literal pound of flesh, by the time they met, he had become one of Marlow’s handful of allies. In retrospect, James was the one to inform him that Christopher had willed him the Manor and half his fortune on that 2013 night that came to be known since as The Storm of the Century. James was also the man, who facilitated Marlowe by providing him with the passwords for all the Winter-family bank accounts and trust funds, including the house in Wilbraham, where Marlowe discovered the existence of the Black Glove and the spawn of their abandoned experiments. In the ensuing years, Marlowe would even receive letters from James once in a blue moon, typed in a code they had pre-agreed upon. James would share a few notes about his routine, but for the most part he inquired on his welfare and progress in rooting out the organization that had destroyed the life of Winter and Marlowe alike. Upon hearing the news in 2018, Marlowe rushed back to Midvintersville, where he made arrangements for James’ inhumation. Marlowe was not surprised to find himself alone during the ceremony, lest for James’ Asian-American nephew Lee, who had apparently visited his uncle a few times during Marlowe’s hunt for the Black Glove. Meanwhile, James had apparently spent his last years in prosaic retirement, tending the Winter manor and its grounds, interrupted only by a short adventure involving a Pleistocene fossil, his nephew had drawn him into. Upon its closure, Lee had gifted his uncle with a Chinese pine Bonsai, that James never failed to prune and water and love as if it was the child he never had.

No tears were shed during the funeral, just a merciless silence occasionally interrupted by the uncanny echoes of the maple leaves dancing in the wind, before collapsing on the freshly mowed cemetery lawn. A single line from Homer’s Iliad was read by the Catholic pastor, before the mahogany casket with James in it, was swallowed by the dirt.

Like the generations of leaves, the lives of mortal men.

In the following day, when Marlowe read James’ will, he couldn’t do otherwise but take a moment to weep for James but maybe more so, for himself. James had bequeathed his share of the Winter fortune to Marlowe and Lee alike, although the Winter Manor was left entirely under Marlowe’s custody. His sole request was for Marlow to care for the tree and be there for Lee should the need arise.

The little pine now rested against the oval window of the Winter Manor’s second floor ballroom. Marlowe would remind himself to water it each day, even when his ruminations became too self-consuming to let him rise from bed, he’d still force himself up to tend the Bonsai before burrowing under the sheets once more. Marlow had even employed the tree in reenacting vignettes from his life, using a vintage toy-soldiers set he had unearthed from the Manor’s old storage, that since 2008 had become the Music Meister’s center of operations. Under its upward pointing branches, lay three soldiers whose faces he had charred against the hearth’s embers and then placed in horizontal position, each marked with the label: Prospero, Driskull, Boisette. Three powerful men who sought immortality, and left mountains of bodies in their efforts to achieve it. And yet the last beheaded the rest and he was in turn penetrated to death by the very man whose cruelty he envied. A much coveted eternity, cut short by the razor-sharp fangs of a monstrous always.

Marlowe often starred at the pine’s, fallen needle-sharp foliage, drying and dying and rotting over the toys representing the inhumane leaders of the Black Glove. And he would often take pleasure in the thought, that his actions, in part, made sure that men like them deserved to have no place on earth, or beneath it.

Like the generations of leaves, the lives of mortal men.

The once detective, now close-to-obesity recluse, however had little clue on how to care for anything living. Youtube channels on botany and gardening tutorials came to be of great help, teaching him the delicate arts of trimming, soil enhancing and of course, the spiritual and medicinal value of plants across human history.

In his early days at Winter manor, Marlowe attempted to dig deeper into plants, immersing himself into books about foraging and gathering as well as the transcendental aspects of the natural world, he found in the pages of Henry Thoreau’s Walden. Marlowe even attempted to conduct Thoreau’s experiment for a while.

In early 2019, he had moved to a tightly-spaced lodge not far from the Manor, where he spent his days, wandering across the forested lands surrounding the property, ensuring the well-being of James’ child as well as the much larger: mountain planes, black spruces, white oaks, balsam firs and the bonsai’s towering cousin, the white pine. His diet consisted solely of wild apples, grains, dried nuts and a variety of fungi, weeds and berries like the newly sprouting cattails he’d heat and serve with dandelion and purslane toppings, and the salty morels he’d sizzle on the campfire with elderberries and meadowsweets. Sumac and dog-rose teas became his daily refreshments, while his wonderings provided daily inspiration in the shape of new discoveries of various shapes, size and species.

Alien-looking British Soldier lichens, multicolored lady-slippers and processions of various insects and parasites growing out of severed tree stumps were but a few of the curiosities he’d encounter as the woods themselves seemed to come alive throughout spring. Vireos, wobblers, whippoorwills and the occasional grouse, would often surround his lodge for scraps, while in the still of some King’s Country summer nights, a barred owl would descend like a shadow of times long past, a demon-winged silhouette against the silver moon, snatching the avian visitors away from the camp and into scalpel-like talons that promised an one-way trip to the spectral realm. Marlowe witnessed it in full only once, yet he did not fail to see the semblance between the majestic and terrifying grace of the ancient bird and the thing he had seen John Martin transform into, a few years ago.

Reflecting upon that night’s experience, Marlowe started putting bizarre sketches into paper. While finishing the lines of two shadows, facing together at an endless ocean formed of teeth, gloves, hats, scarves and corpse-baring owls, he felt a sharp pain cutting across his stomach. At first, Marlow lifted his flannel shirt, glancing at the ten-centimeter line of still healing flesh, outlining the area below his ribcage. Marlowe gnarled as memories of Stephen Boisette slicing right through him with a double-edged saber, gifting him a scar the size of a pencil, were returning. The Alchemist, the Black Glove’s personal bulldog. The man that framed him for the murder of a girl at Cambridge all those years ago, turning him into England’s scapegoat for a decade. The man who gloated after his mother’s death from cancer. The man that got an inch away from sending him to join her. Now dead, by Martin’s dick and teeth. Served him well.

But the ache returned, stronger now, more penetrative.

His gut began turning ferociously as Marlowe crawled on his knees, pushing himself to and fro against the moss-covered stump of a severed birch.

The last thing he remembered when he woke up in the E.R., was dialing 991 and watching a cauldron of bats with a barred owl, savagely screeching at their tail, breaking away from the canopy and into the evening sky.

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