#sable talks about gardening

[sablegear0]

Sable vs the Carpenter Bees (Part 1?)

(Tentatively labeling as "part 1" because I expect I will post updates eventually)

So, yesterday I had my first encounter with carpenter bees. For those unfamiliar; they're the size of a bumblebee and look similar, but rather than living in underground nests, they tend to burrow into dead wood to lay their eggs. Note that this can and often does include any unfinished lumber or exposed wooden parts of a house. They're also very territorial. It's worth mentioning that only the males get territorial, and only in late summer, and that male carpenter bees cannot sting. However, they do make every attempt to get up in the business of any perceived intruder to chase them off, other bees included.

And also myself included, obviously.

It has been a long time since I've been chased by bees or wasps. Not since I was a child have I feared my stripèd flying neighbours. But yesterday was something different.

I think the main problem was I was mowing the lawn. See, our property is fairly small so I only have a reel mower, one of those old-fashioned push-mowers that isn't powered at all. It works great for me because I don't mind the workout and it's way quieter than its gas- or electric-powered peers. But it does tend to stir up the bugs, I think partly because it's so quiet. It just makes a metallic rasping noise as it spins, which is enough noise (and motion) to startle bugs but not enough to drive them away. The first carpenter bee buzzed me as I was finishing up with the mower and starting to put it away. I ducked inside my shed and that seemed to put me out of range.

The next came to harass me when I tried to harvest some of my garden veggies. I haven't posted any garden updates this year but things are looking relatively lush, and I'm pretty pleased with it. So I go to clip some peas down and who should reappear but a carpenter bee. Now, when I'm outside doing just about anything, I wear a newsie cap, sunglasses, and my big ol' headphones. This means that the only exposed skin on my head is my cheeks, nose, jaw, and neck.

And that bumbly bastard went straight for the side of my neck like a freaking vampire.

He tried to get in behind my headphones (or into the loop of my bun?) for some reason, and Monkey Brain did NOT like that one bit. I actually freaked out, dodged/ran away, swatted at the damn thing, and ran back inside. We did this twice, as I made a second attempt shortly after. There was also a fair deal of shouting and verbal threats issued. As if it could understand me. But it did make me feel better to state aloud that I wasn't above killing the bugger if need be. I did lay a solid smack on one with my hat, which grounded but did not kill it (as it flew off shortly after).

But of course, Looney Tunes style, this meant war.

Except I had no intention of killing the little bastards. See, while they were being bastards, they didn't know any better. They're just defending what they see as their territory from the big noisy animal that chops up the plants they like. I don't begrudge them, and I do still want them around as pollinators. But not being able to get to my own garden is unacceptable. So I got to thinking, what could I do to keep myself safe without killing them?

Some quick googling suggested that if I was able to find their nest holes (BIG if), dabbing some citrus or almond oil near the hole for a few days would persuade them to abandon the nest. They also apparently do not like noise (duh), so constant music or wind-chimes were suggested as a pest control measure. I honestly was a little surprised by the wind chimes thing but it gives a lot more context beyond aesthetics as to why people might have them. Who'd'a thunk.

So I have my information for longer-term solutions but nothing that would work today because I really wanted to get out there and harvest those peas. I ponder a trip to the nearby dollar store to pick wind chimes and perhaps a bug net, intending to catch and detain the little bastards while I work, then release them after I was done.

Then my Brother-In-Law comes downstairs and I chat with him about the situation and what I'm thinking of doing. And here's where things get interesting. He's in the Reserves, so he mentions he has some bug-netting in his kit. He goes and grabs a mosquito-net head cover for me to borrow. It's meant to fit over an army helmet so it fits nicely over my cap, and would probably go over my headphones too if I wanted. My head and neck suitably armoured, I head back outside.

By this point it's been maybe 20 mins since I was last outside. And the bees are nowhere to be found. Not even seen at a distance, just gone. Go figure. Realistically all I probably needed to do was leave and wait for them to calm down. Still, I like to think the netting helped, as behind the green mesh I was no longer skin-coloured (except for my arms but those were not a target) so I was less perceptible as a threat. Whatever the case, I was able to harvest my veggies in peace.

Later that day, the lads (my partner, BIL, and a couple friends) were hanging out on the patio and I half-expected to hear they had been harassed as well. But they were smoking, and I can only assume bees of any type don't particularly care for smoke, so they weren't bothered either.

Anyway, there's no moral to the story other than maybe I should wait a bit after mowing to do any other gardening, to let the bugs calm back down. I might go hunt down a nice set of wind chimes and the bug netting helmet is remaining by the back door. At least until I can find the carpenter bastards' nests in the... hoo boy, the huge amount of unfinished wood in my back yard, and stink them out with essential oils.

More updates (and garden updates) probably to follow.

#sable's life #sable has a take #sable talks about gardening #gardening #bees #pest control #(of the nonlethal variety)

[findpenpalsover20]

I'm ancient, 37 at least! but somehow, still not dead. Married, works in retail, I own a cat, I'll sleep 16 hours a day when I can. I read a lot, usually books about nuclear accidents, miserable graphic novels or weird stuff featuring mushrooms. (Jeff Vandermeer and China Mieville are favourites) I watch pre-code films mainly, or old talkies where the dialogue is slightly echoey and stilted. I like any old films though, and I'm a real lover of Star Trek. I think I know someone who may actually be Gul Dukat.

 I take Instax photos because they look exactly how memories do in the confines of my own head. Blurry, soft focus, more the idea of something than how it really looks. Or maybe that's because I'm terrible at taking photos, and I have a really bad memory. Anyway, I can send some to you, maybe?

 I like to knit and crochet, but it takes me years to finish anything. Also, I've long held the suspicion that purling is a hoax and Not Real.

 I have a very scruffy garden in which I pretend to grow food. This charade takes up entirely too much of my time. I basically use it as a cover - when my astroturf-gravel-and-decking neighbours look over snootily, I say, "well my garden is messy because I grow food in it, you know. It's functional, not aesthetic, darling."

 I geocache, with very limited success. The main goal of geocaching, I find, is to try and look as suspicious as you can in front of passers-by. I look a bit foreign, too, so that helps.

I play video games, especially if they're filled with moments of calm tragedy. You know: Panzer Dragoon Saga, Shadow Of The Colossus/Ico, Sable, Kentucky Route Zero, Hyper Light Drifter, the original Link's Awakening...Elden Ring, even. I like a meditative, solitary experience from my games. I rarely finish them, though. If I finish a game that means I have to say goodbye and I don't like that.

 I'm really into the idea of outsider artists at the moment. I've never created a thing in my life and have no intention of ever doing so; ADHD makes sure I have absolutely no drive. But I'm fascinated with the idea of people who decide to make a holy shrine out of tinfoil, or wear a papermache head, create an alter-ego and then get booed off at Wembley for asking who's got Betamax, or write songs about how Spiderman tried to cut them out of 70 dollars and so they felt compelled to beat him with a rubber hose. You know what I mean? These people are all around us and we don't always know they're there. (There's a man who lives near me, in my dull New Town who's covered his house, the outside that is, in his own paintings. I have a terrible urge to knock on his door and ask him what's up, but my husband has implored me not to in case he murders me and uses my skull as an ashtray.)

 I'm quite flippant and usually never serious. If you don't find me funny - which most people don't - then maybe I'm not for you. A lot of people on the internet are so normal, and my penpal attempts have usually fizzled out because these people want to talk about... Grad school, or buying a house, or working in an office... and I want to talk about the sad melancholy feeling when BBC1 used to close down at midnight in the 1990s... Your typical university educated office worker I ain't. I'm not exactly shoplifting from Londis though, either, don't worry.

contact: @rainy-walk

#submission #penpal #pen pal wanted #pen pals #pen pals over 20 #pen pal #penpals #snail mail #letters #over 20

[elegy-if]

What are the cast's hobbies and interests?

Felix: Music; she actually can play a couple instruments! He used to be in a band, but that didn't exactly work out for him. Mainly into playing the bass, but had a brief drum phase.

Eden: They can knit! It's something they've been doing for quite a number of years. As a big fan of sweaters and vests (gotta stay looking distinguished at their job!) they tend to knit most of the ones they own! I can honestly see them being one of those youtubers who do "knit with me" videos and stuff -- they enjoy talking and rambling on about their day!

Sable: Sable writes in their spare time. They are not immune to writing fanfiction for whatever media they're currently watching, and they do sometimes publish works once in a blue moon. As they're pretty shy, most of their works are kept private.

Eris: Gardening, for nostalgia reasons :^) They keep a small little rooftop garden at their shitty little apartment and it's their pride and joy.

???: Erm... I don't know the exact word but mechanical work? Working on cars? Not necessarily a hobby they sought out on purpose, but one they found they enjoyed once they got the hang of it. Considering how insane they drive, they've got to keep their cars up and running.

#all ros #anonymous #asks

[silver-heller]

Hi again! I hope you don't mind me rambling. Also thanks for answering my questions! ^^ (Warning this is really long cause infodump, also a suprise at the end.):

I just dreamed a random dreamed where Wick confronts his sister aka Maristella. And then they reunited after a bit of a talking only of Maristella to syringe over the back his neck in sudden force. Shocking him as he look over to her eyes, they were filled with remorse, something that Wick rarely ever seen. He felt she embraced him tigthly whispering to his ears.

"I am very sorry my dear brother.." She softly whispering. His eyes submerged into to the pit of darkness, sleeping.

●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●

Maristella or Maire in my 'au' called Orchids jewelries.(A temporary name)

A sister of Wick who has been gone for a while, she once wrote a letter to Wick and Susannah (another younger sister of Wick)  that she only been out for a 'vacation' to take a break at her job, however stopped sending letters to them causing her relationship to Wick and Susannah to drift away. (She works as a dressmaker. Credits to my moot who helped me.)

In reality she may have half lied about it. The reason why Maristella haven't came back for like who knows how long, it's because she doesn't want to be involved with the family's drama. And yes she's could've have got married and live somewhere else but she didn't have any interest of those.

Lawrence (Wick's twin) asked Maristella for help as he unintentionally got framed, being accused of it. Hence Maristella helped him in a exchange for a deal.

One is keep the secret to prevent anyone knowing especially the family. Lawrence knows the true reason why Maristella left in the first place because they had been kept contact discreetly. (They used code names, and often go to private places, however since Maire doesn't really wanna go back, Lawrence just wrote a letter or chat her over a telephone.)

So basically I just spoiled my old au that needed some reworking to do, and is the family a bit mess up? Yes. Now infodumping for my oc's aka Wick's hc sibblings:

Lawrence Sable:

He is the eldest twin. His personality is stoic, strict and harsh twisted with arrogance since. His father raised him as the 'perfect man' so Lawrence once a young lad done several things what his father had told him just to get the approval, even it's meant breaking his bones. Until Wick came in part. because he think Wick wouldn't go ruined over his way to become a 'perfect' since Wick is too timid. Only for that to demolish when his father chose Wick over him. Hence he grew a resentment towards the family, moreso gaining a rocky relationship towards his own twin. Summary he is the more colder version of Wick.

While he deeply cares for his family, it's no longer the family he once knew or wanted.

(He's fur color is sliver but with brown undertones, blueish sliver eyes. And has more different markings than Wick usually has.)

(He also feel guilty for almost physically hurting Wick in the past due to releasing his anger, but again he kept his feelings locked. Not really having the courage to say sorry, hence Wick felt intimidated around him.)

◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇

Susannah 'Sookie' Sable:

She is based on the Lackadaisy wiki I just read so this is like my hc of her, unlike Lawrence she's much generous and kind to her family even she knew the heinous side of it. She even comforted Wick once in childhood, after he was forced to shoot a duck, the two buried it to somewhere in the garden together. She visits Wick's mansion often to check him up making sure he has good sleep or have eaten foo. She also greets Lacy too. A mother hen type, she simply refuse to leave until Wick takes a break, that goes same for Lawrence.

I like to headcannon Wick called Susannah 'Sookie' is because for her passion at baking, and that some of the family members loves eating one of her pastries, especially cookies. She and Maristella also used to be really close but grew distant.

(Her design is still not decided, but I want to make her a brunnette, she dyed it over her giner hair. Her fur is much warmer brown color.)

She lives separately from her family, she doesn't really want her daugther to witness the ugly side of it really. Yes Sookie has a daugther named Lumi, Sookie used to be married but soon got divorced because of her husband, who was caught having a affair with another woman leaving her heartbroken.

♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤

Maristella 'Maire' Sable:

Maristella lastly is the youngest but more older than Charlotte (and probably as tall as Wick lol) She's was a former ballerina but soon retired for reasons, which is pure boredom. Maire soon took interest in outfits that were made by her aunt. So she participate on learning historical fashion and soon became a dressmaker. She's more closer to her auntie instead of her own mother, because she felt pressured or irritated whenever their mother is around.

She's seen as a mischievous lady towards her family mainly her 'mother'  because of her "rebellious" personality but she didn't care. She's the person would do whatever she please, sassy and cunning, willing to use her brains in situations. Their father loved her for her fierceness personality, though wished she was a boy instead.

(As the design, shes a lilac point siamese, her outfit would be elegant. Yet she won't hesitate to show off different types of outfit for experimenting, a bold kind of lady whether you like it or not.)

Relationship wise: Lawrence and her aren't best term of getting along well as usually the tend to insult each other's face, the good thing is they didn't killed each other. Which a lot of people questioned but brush it off as they only see it as normal sibblings bickering. After Maire left for a vacation, she and Lawrence had been in contact for a year dealing with well... Not good matters. (The two both wanted to deny the fact they care eachother, and that the reason why they are helping eachother is for business only.)

Sookie or Susannah, Maire thinks she's a decent woman, a kind one. In the past She felt much pride when her older sister admired her performance as a ballerina, they are close, but not as close as Wicks. Sadly she had to cut her connections to Sookie.

Next is Wick, her relationship with him is close really close. She finds Wick humorous and intelligent, at the flip side she finds Wick too.. Gullible for his own good. (Thus her being overprotective of Wick whenever a woman was flirting at him.) Shame again she distant herself towards her family.

◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇

Questions:

1. I wonder how would Charlotte react to Lawrence, Susannah, and Maristella? Especially if Sookie had told her she's a aunt now. (Aka Lumi is now her neice.)

2. Not a question but here are scenarios what I think would happened if Charlotte meets them:

•If Lawrence meet Charlotte, let's say he'll treat her as the same he treat his family, distant. Unless if she get herself in secrets Lawrence has been hiding then sadly he'll won't spare her life, besides he had to finish what needs to be done. (He already dislike her.)

•If Susannah meets Charlotte she would try her best to be nice to her like she always does. But that doesn't mean won't call out the things Charlotte done, she just wish Charlotte learn good values like being humble, instead whatever their father did. If Charlotte misbehave towards her daugther then she will be mad at her. (Threatening "You hurt my daugther, and I'll make sure you'll never see the day of the light again." Kind of.)

•If Maire ever meets Charlotte after or before she disappeared, then she would absolutely teases and annoy the ever life out of her. Will 100% use her as a bait, revenge for stealing one of her dressing she made.

•••••

Edit: man writing this makes me think they have the most deadly silent akward family meetings or dinners (more akward when Maire left for no reason). They may look like a perfect family in outside, but inside you get a whole mess of a flood.

Also the suprise, I drew some fanart btw. A interpretation of Charlotte, the one in the right (I tried my best so feel free to do some changes.) And featuring Maire, the tall lady wearing a bun is in the left.:

Charlotte if she attempt to talk over Maire:

Eve if she did tried intimidating or insult Maire, it wont work otherwise the result wont be pretty, cause Maire is someone you don't just mess around with. And she's definitely going to use Charlotte weakness as her weapon. (Unless half of the sable sibblings minus Wick and Sookie, declare a war- Not really.)

That's all, thanks for listening my rambling, have a good Day/Night! (Feel free to give feedbacks or anything.)

Oooo, I found them all so interesting! Definitely an intriguing and chaotic collective for sure. I enjoy what you did with each of them to really flesh out the family dynamic.

I imagine Charlotte would be distant with the others, I could see her disliking how cold Lawrence is and Marie's rebellious side. I think she'd be jealous of Sookie though, wanting a family of her own.

Thank you so much for drawing Charlotte, I love it! Charlotte definitely deserves to be put in her place a little.

#undescribed #reddresson👗

[simshousewindsor]

ALL FOR YOU

[Sumpterson Estate, Henford - MONDAY 12:07 PM WST]

Samuel Connelly [Equerry]: (bowing) Your Majesty.

King George: Samuel!

Samuel Connelly [Equerry]: I put those plans you requested on your desk.

King George: Great! Thank you. Could you get the Duke of Kent on the phone, please?

Samuel Connelly [Equerry]: “Right away, sir.”

King George: (coughing) Hmm, I don't recall there being a door in that room. It couldn't be? Could it?!

(door opens)

Queen Rowena: Oh, I love those flowers! The Floral Tribute Garden does such a lovely job. Ugh, you wouldn’t believe the morning I've had. Lady Delores messed my schedule up and I missed two engagements! Oh! Why didn't you tell me about Lara? She stopped by the palace this morning before I left to tell me you’re allowing them to move into Royal Lodge.

King George: Hello to you too!

Queen Rowena: (giggles) I’m sorry! Your Majesty!

King George: (kiss) Take a breathe.

Queen Rowena: (deep sigh) Hi, darling!

Queen Rowena: How are you? Did you have a nice weekend? I’m sorry I couldn't come sooner!

King George: I went shooting with a few of the local men and (coughing continues), had an audience with Prince Vester on Saturday. Sunday was just church. The weather has been quite lovely here! Chilly. Brisk.

Queen Rowena: What’s with that cough?

King George: It’s nothing. So, I have a lovely day planned for us. I know I haven't shown you the love you deserve lately and today is all about showering you with more of it!

Queen Rowena: Oh, George. What have you done? When did you have the time?

King George: Give Lady Delores some grace. She was helping me prepare for your arrival, in secret. She has been working overtime to help me plan this day all for you.

Queen Rowena: I was wondering why she was acting so secretive.

King George: I want to be open with you, Ro. I want to start by telling you what I've been searching for these last few weeks. (coughing) Follow me!

Queen Rowena: Where are we going?

King George: Do you trust me?

Queen Rowena: Of course I trust you.

King George: I have a fun day planned for us! It starts now!

- - - - -

(later that night)

King George: (coughing)

King George: (coughing continues)

(television news anchor talking)

Shon Gableton [SNN]: The Duchess of Brindleton Bay looked gorgeous while attending the races in Sable Square. The Duke and Duchess, who announced being pregnant with their third child last week, will make several stops on their tour of Brindleton Bay ahead of what is to be a busy season of royal engagements for the pair.

King George: (somber) My sweet, Kate.

Previous | Beginning | Next - continue The Amethysts Quest (story)

Previous | Beginning | Next - continue Consort Redemption (story)

#simshousewindsor #simshousewindsor ts4 #ts4 story #ts4 royal simblr #ts4 royalty #simblr #sims 4 royalty #sims 4 royal family #sims 4 monarchy #TS4 #sims 4 story #the sims 4 royalty #the sims 4 #ts4 simblr #sims 4 simblr #ts4 tumblr #simshousewindsor simblr #simshousewindsor tumblr #simshousewindsor story

[eddysocs]

Introducing: Sable Chen

Fandom: American Horror Story

Face Claim: Lyrica Okano

Full Name: Sable Ruby Chen

Nickname/Alias/Pet Names: Sabie

Age: 23

Myers Briggs Type: ISFJ

Hogwarts House: Hufflepuff

Love Interest: Stevie Nicks

Occupation: Tarot Card Reader/Unofficial Bodyguard

Collections: Tarot Decks

Style/Clothing: Black is a staple in her wardrobe. In fact, she hardly owns anything that isn’t all, or at least mostly, black. She doesn’t truly consider herself goth, but she’s been called it a few times and is more than willing to take it as a compliment.

Signature Quote: "You might believe that Fiona fucked with my fate, but maybe it was supposed to go like this all along."

Plot Summary: Sable Chen is a powerful witch, and she could have been a supreme, but she was meant for other things, at least that’s what Fiona Goode would have her believe. Fiona is always talking about her 'special purpose' and at last she seems to find it when Stevie Nicks comes to call on the coven. Something about Stevie's aura and energy call to her and Stevie can sense the same in Sable. When Stevie departs the coven, she takes Sable with her, neither sure of what their bond might mean for them, but both willing to explore it.

Forever Tag: @arrthurpendragon, @baubeautyandthegeek, @foxesandmagic, @carmens-garden, @bossyladies, @getawaycardotmp3, @misshiraethsworld, @kmc1989, @curious-kittens-ocs, @fanficanatic-tw

#oc: sable chen #fc: lyrica okano #fd: american horror story

[ruki--mukami]

(tw) Over the years your brothers died which left you living alone in the mansion. Yuma’s garden is now dead, Azusa’s knives are collecting dust and Kou left behind a bunch of things from his idol years. The mansion is completely silent and dead compared to how it was before.

“Ah… These knives. They’re completely tarnished, and some have even oxidized. The blades that once shone were so beautiful, and now it has completely rusted,” he mused as he brought a finger over the dulled edge, checking for its sharpness without a care for his own well-being. “If Azusa was still here, then perhaps my finger would’ve bled by now. Surely he would gawk at the sight of his own eldest brother doing the very thing be scolded him to refrain from doing. He loved these knives, even if inflicting pain on himself made me livid… I would rather spend my days upbraiding him and worrying over his health than wallow in his absence.”

After departing Azusa’s room, he walked down the hall before arriving at a room that didn’t particularly belong to one brother but would’ve once provided a magnificent view of the garden with its large windows. When Ruki looked out, he saw nothing but a barren wasteland of wilted flowers, all its petals littered across the dirt and mulch.

“The crops that once flourished were so abundantly green and vibrant, Yuma. Now it has all decayed into a sable abyss. I cannot even remember which flowers used to grow there… all of the fallen petals are black and shriveled. If you were still here, you wouldn’t hesitate to boast about the various species of plants growing here,” he mumbled to himself as a he placed a splayed hand against the glass, lost in nostalgia. “Every summer you would lose your temper over the wild rabbits and birds that visited your garden to sate their own appetite. Now those same animals wouldn’t even dare to come close. If anything, it must be a breeding site for termites as I speak. What a pity…”

Finally, Ruki turned away from the window, withdrawing his hand only to gaze upon an old costume Kou once wore for a debut concert in Tokyo all those decades ago. Grasping the garment with a lazy grip, the eldest sat down on the sofa, back leaned against the upholstery deep in contemplation.

“I was never one for loud, congested places… but I knew how much this performance meant to you, Kou. You wouldn’t stop talking about this concert for days,” he said brushing a thumb over the sequins of the jacket, all of which had lost their luster. “Sometimes I can still hear the sound of your voice in my head. Truth be told, your music never appealed to my tastes… but I would do anything to see and hear you perform once more if it meant you were alive again.”

Standing up from the couch, the Vampire took one of his brother’s albums and placed the CD in a nearby music player, setting the volume to a moderate level. Immediately, Kou’s joyous voice resounded from the speakers, emitting a cheerful atmosphere to an otherwise gloomy and decrepit Mukami manor covered in cobwebs and layers upon layers of dust. As he reminisced on old, yet cherished memories of his brothers, Ruki sat back down. No tears fell, but his face collapsed into his large, quaking hands, back bent over and shoulders raised and rounded into a lamented position of utter misery.

“Kou… Yuma… Azusa… Life has no meaning without the three of you. Eve has already chosen her Adam, and Karlheinz-sama has already passed on his legacy… Why hasn’t death claimed me as well? Each and every day here in this empty mansion is spent caring for myself and myself alone. There is no one else to share my meals with, no boisterous bickering filling the halls, no more family, and certainly no place to call ‘home.’ After all, there is no home without the three of you. Death shall smite me one day… and when that time comes, we will all be together again.”

#diabolik lovers #ruki mukami #mukami ruki #ask #react #diabolik lovers rp #kou mukami #mukami kou #yuma mukami #mukami yuma #azusa mukami #mukami azusa #tw

[nervouscloudtheorist]

April 12th 2024

Dear Diary,

I GOT PURPLE ROSES!! I am getting so good at gardening! I should try gardening with the other flowers and seeing if I get any new colors from them.

Also the fishing tourney is tomorrow and we had another new person move in. Her name is Deirdre. She's really cool from what I can tell so far. I think Deirdre, Clay and I could really be good friends. You know once Clay and I get along better.

I donated all my new and rare island bugs and fish to Blathers and he was so happy. He was mentioning that these items could only be found in the summer so they were super rare. I didn't let him know I went to tropical island but that is between me, you, and Kapp'n. I forgot I also brought back fruit from the island so I planted 2 coconut trees and 3 mango trees. I will need to start doing the tours at the island to see if I can find any more rare plants. Maybe I will make my island an island paradise.

I think I also figured out the best way to earn money because when I went to the Re-Tail shop and sold all my extra beetles, I earned 25,000 bells. I also earned 500 bells from Chrissy when she bought my washer/dryer but that is besides the point. The point is that I think I might go to the island every night to catch beetles!

I haven't had this much money in one go so you know I had to go on a shopping spree. I went to the main street and went to Sables shop to shop till I dropped. I ran into Clay at the store too and he told me that my current outfit looked so good on me so naturally I needed to continue my stylish ways. I didn't buy a whole lot, I only bought 3 items but the thrill of being able to buy things without worry was there. ANOTHER THING I just learned that the shop is not called Sable's shop. I always thought it was weird because I generally talk to Mable but I know I heard her talk about Sable. Anyways I guess it's called the ABLE SISTERS. Man I feel really dumb for not calling it by the right name this whole time.

I also went to the Gardening shop, which is run by a man named Leif. He doesn't sell much just a sapling and a couple of different flowers but it's nice that there is finally a garden shop in the area. Maybe he will give me some ideas on how I can make my own garden look nicer.

Like most days so far, Nookling Junction had nothing for me to buy so I did skip them out on my shopping spree but I decided with my new found wealth that my house was much to small for me and I decided to give Tom Nook a visit.

When I was at his shop, he introduced me to Lyle. He works for the Happy Home Academy ( its not association) and he kind of gave me a run down of what to expect from their reviews. It didn't really matter to me because I really was only there to talk to Tom Nook but okay. Tom Nook said he would have my house upgraded by tomorrow and it would only cost me 98,000 bells which is nothing when I have the island on my side!

I went back to town and just was cleaning things up when I noticed a tent in the town square. It was someone called Crazy Redd. He sells artwork but he will only sell me one a day. I looked over some of them and they kinda look...off. I don't know a lot about art but I remember my mom showing me some of them and what Redd is selling just doesn't look the same. He didn't let me get a really good look at any of them so I just decided to buy the gallant statue. I think he probably was just as nervous as I was honestly. It can't be easy to go and sell your wares in a new town all the time.

Anyways I don't have very much else to report except that I met Kitt and I'm not his biggest fan but I'm pretty confident he will grow on me :)

Back to gardening and getting this bread!

-Finn

#animal crossing #journals #nintendo #video games #newleaf #new leaf #journaling #creative writing #nintendo 3ds #animal crossing new leaf

[libidomechanica]

Are blushd quite new both cost month of all, and bite

A kimo sequence

               1

Likewise sometimes me; my though to be first ill-sound. Are blush’d quite new both cost month of all, and bite.

               2

Herbs, gather all be counter at my breath my braines and love’s glass, goblet, golden daffodils.

               3

The dead. Never rightliest, that feete Night! Leave here a sin to the language price was mine and morrow?

               4

And of the old! Line, encreasing and tempt to age’s sake time will didst a strings was seene of wine.

               5

And thy harte. The sultanas an eyes wilder- mooned were and life. These are, I lay. While I turn’d.

               6

Then from they: alas! And between the recouers; my three stormy selfe contend. I’m o’er you … mother.

               7

The teeth gleaning house rolling hours, and tune my dear, ’ which circling kisse. And blood, he slacke the valley.

               8

Those bodie bigger never side. But I knows, and love-beate his knees about the shining; she same.

               9

A little me! Thou forget and tent to Arm Bears! Their guide the heares, the Prince, Julia, whose shine?

               10

And it on ever sake, and turn of cattell, teach lightness, to build. I burnt because his Highness.

               11

—But a clear of Hope wyth frorne you art, Others, streets of empties dear beyond all of late-writ it.

               12

It once of this. Stairs of him: when the Sea; listen. Are their flat find, I still, each of happy lot.

               13

To white. Now, appear unto those high trust an amuse my mane: but none out though the made my wind.

               14

But her elfin blind have love any more. A girlonds, garlic, cheree didst vnder high o’er you; on these?

               15

The looked as such a Bellow sibilations? Is much, ask’d her, never soft, where we jointly light.

               16

Let us pealed innocence chase. Three, looking away, oh! No part of thirst. Him Loue, the growe.

               17

With they began to marry; then front prime? Marriage in clouds, and remained it out by violently.

               18

Other spirits frenne. What is wanted with melanche’s woe, after that yourself—first, I visite?

               19

And your man’s dark sea-lined prefer to know. The smell those lips: but not at thirst. Not till was sprites.

               20

Her brethren, the should be alone; for could know not violet paine. Your dear, the Firmaments tower.

               21

Above has taller reader! Her than in has a blundertook you will now, and love everywhere.

               22

And sabled, full case to name enough. And there so indeed heart a shipwreck’d more give thee flowers.

               23

With they done to fallow air? Such coste, and her with so lowdly comes, half retired into singing.

               24

The provincessed heave up here he is mixed. No harshness’s physician will help it, and pale went.

               25

She spring-flowe, ne still match my faults of hatred will nothings rarely high mares; his host. As Prose.

               26

Yet so much our of neon. Lucia in the found, overtall abound, pricks, but copying bird?

               27

Friend I love thou may sleep, you were play. Or unpleases at the loom; and as it the minstrument.

               28

I love! The can fields brethren, the closed his father mesh: and love them thus; while to parent my hand.

               29

‘Three stormy time on: but let us see. Words I find which loues that kiosk at you in Mrs.

               30

Best parted eye. Is never utter. And what she rolls, poets say? This our hand this? The Koran.

               31

Forsake let me, and be in the same tomb? Now it could like the green at the had wants imbibing!

               32

Not talk to get and small. Downe doubt, the after his eternity, for maiden plump-armed, the goes.

               33

Window shares in hue, vermilion-spotte, we retreat. But hersely clean. Will wet, shall save a prince?

               34

An’ resty Muse, no alterial, and Syrinx daught of camomile that so, love. Fresh singing.

               35

At least they but speak withstand, year then; and came, whose with his palm and has a crown! May something knees.

               36

Forgets, and fro, a disaster, Sleep mighty he gardens: they gave was though close! Self-loving charm.

               37

With the lord’s first: thou would you know then? This excuse that builds in our strong hours meet at once decay!

               38

All to the liuely green and she but for the not like liquid find so confiscations, and—no!

               39

Day come, the lake due care, and allow,—who was stranger woe of twent. To this body—I lover.

               40

Let me my pretty maid, ‘had give my wife. And near, its sorrow? For shepheard the look that glistence?

               41

Of fever, the couth: but it a heart with the shepheards she plain my face, of dull fate. Although show?

               42

But yeeres: bring in good Sir, with a rainbow- sided, I am rest. When I dreams came reader!

               43

A slight she hopeless, beauty new connection have was bom old. Bows and winds were about the sea.

               44

And him raise upon within his blood, so compassion winterest in tressed with theories.

               45

Even in his death. In secret in other’d more new commiseries, look at your conquestion?

               46

Then laugh. With sometimes worth and put our beasts. But certain inward and of carelessed with pain.

               47

And lost, when explained a monument. And scraping although, which may, instrel- life she knees the main.

               48

The lily, the tombs, an entic’d his cup. He to fall, that I owne faults, and yet know thee alone!

               49

By all unworthy worth, which embarrass’d simple thoughts enjoy. Then these discovered, her rude, like.

               50

The boys. The making is no doubts of that coin, they bent with herself never! Paragon; and doat.

               51

Its wreath’s sake, the splash theefe! I am gone, once and did encloset-gods the deadest when the breede.

               52

Thou not your she said thought the other anger. Sy: a virgin of Evil Fate proudly tide of.

               53

Of the bragging melodious heart. Said he i’ll soon to shape of Phyllis is a lasses where.

               54

The daught it is, he blushes vsed to glisten. Hear head of happen tone with breast to all have me.

               55

You vomit thee alone comb is my your mind, I still choose. When those ribbed stay his bright gaudy Girl!

               56

But yet that we have beil’, where with teares? And a shipwracked way to a loaf of dead, who watch.

               57

The my luckless; and Antony resign! The Topic over. Of arms undo, bow patience fled?

               58

Cannot lesson the flie, to travelers complains were getting so smooth-lipp’d with kindest maid? The song.

               59

When from death, her tales, thy servant. Had I been, and then? But friends, and spring. Whether round, and bliss!

               60

Of happen to real for nough! Upon a Saturday three castles stood, fair, ’ said she may i stay!

               61

Wed in a love’s calf at eight, and view? And comes, crowned—we given silent the many ring; some pain.

               62

My Lucius sage is not lieth! Familiar bloom’d, as their years, and great the sky is lie down of quean.

               63

But night-headed star, the—sun as I caught well. On thy state on most prophecy dilatest air.

               64

But woman’s shafts of revealed: they are dream? But murdring pause I venture dreams through Fancy’s casket.

               65

Melissa—you! Our dog and, like inquiries of female dry of loued Lillies: the earth; while tea.

               66

True sorrow earlier, and snare. Look like at they beate his mother to Padisha or Pacha.

               67

The pauses benched by womankind! We remind his fades, and fresh and maiden fancies shadow?

               68

Upon her to pain. Whose queen of thee, my bright of an auncient kind whose thank you, but ah, she world.

               69

For feete such stare with tears to be recessant. Perhaps preferr’d his feet, if twas like a shotgun.

               70

Was sudden babe, as dry while at his palaces. A fifteen-hundress that this rupture feares.

               71

So large, and charming hair smell in a soft a lighten their chaste of Kent. And to a gay recline.

               72

When the proffer’d, like good ways undred young, but from thyself indeed to make the shades. Then i hold.

               73

What the earth, and by me than down in wane. Thus: in Sommer which way is thy words vnto her here spight.

#poetry #automatically generated text #Patrick Mooney #Markov chains #Markov chain length: 5 #153 texts #kimo sequence

[jdgo51]

Ash Wednesday – The Beginning of the End

Today's inspiration comes from:

Contemplating the Cross

by Tricia McCary Rhodes

Editor’s note: Today is Ash Wednesday, the first day of Lent. Enjoy this excerpt of Contemplating the Cross as we turn our hearts toward reflection on Jesus’ gift of His life in our stead.

REFLECT

"He who knows not the Christ of Calvary knows not God, and he who does not thus know, knows not anything that is worth knowing." ~ R. E. March

"Quiet your heart before God. Seek to release the worries, cares, distractions, and decisions of your day into the Holy Spirit’s hands.

Read the following verses out loud as a prayer and invitation to the Lord:

Show me Your ways, O LORD, teach me Your paths; guide me in Your truth and teach me, for You are God my Savior, and my hope is in You all day long. — Psalm 25:4–5 NIV

Invite Jesus to open your spiritual eyes in a new way. Welcome Him as your companion and guide on this spiritual journey.

Think about the Cross for a few minutes. What images come to your mind? Does the thought of the Cross touch you deeply, or has familiarity with Christ’s death produced complacency?

What would you like God to do within you through this journey? Write this out as a prayer.

READ

He came out and proceeded as was His custom to the Mount of Olives; and the disciples also followed Him. — Luke 22:39 NASB

As was His custom... These are telling words about where Jesus will spend His final hours of freedom. The Mount of Olives is a familiar place. He has been here often, only a week ago descending from it on a donkey, the crowds crying hosannas and laying palm branches at His feet.

On the nights following the triumphal entry, while His followers found rest in homes preparing for Passover, Jesus most likely slept here. He didn’t have to travel far, just a few hundred feet up a stone path off the Jericho road.

What consumed His thoughts in those lonely hours? Was He exhausted from long days of teaching and healing in the temple below? Did He struggle to summon enough energy to walk down each morning, knowing the demands for His touch would be endless and overwhelming? Tonight on this mountain great anguish awaits the Messiah, but has He agonized here before over the coming Crucifixion?

The full moon illuminates the way, regal cypress trees swaying in the breeze against the sable sky. Surely a quiet gloom accompanies them; Jesus talking, the men trying to keep pace, not wanting to miss a word. Once in a while He stops and faces them, expressing wistful thoughts and distant dreams.

He speaks of love — His love for the Father, His love for them, and their love for one another. Perhaps the intimacy is unsettling. It takes time to comprehend such words. But time is running out. They move on, following their beloved Rabbi.

Stopping near a gate, Jesus gazes at the starry host above. Then, lifting His hands to His Father, He prays a long, poignant prayer for these faithful few. When He is done, He searches their faces for a sign of comprehension. Seeing only questions in their eyes He cannot answer, the Son of God turns toward the entrance to the Garden of Gethsemane.

It is a beautiful place, the night air in the foothills warm, the breeze from the brook Kidron blowing gently. The Garden’s huge twisted-trunk olive trees are laden with fruit. At harvest, the olives will be pressed until precious oil fills the vats. This “place of crushing” is a fitting finale for the One whose life’s breath will soon be pressed from Him.

As was His custom...

As was His custom... The mount is fraught with familiarity, even to Judas, the missing disciple, who within a few hours will confidently lead the army of betrayers to the Savior’s side.

Jesus surveys the city for which He has known such deep compassion one last time. What does He see? Families relaxing, stomachs full and hearts warmed by Passover celebrations? Children being tucked in and candles snuffed out? Is the air peppered with the rumble of conversation or outbursts of innocent laughter among friends?

Amid all this, does Jesus behold a lost and dying world of people, ignorant of their own need, unaware of the price He will soon pay to find a place in their hearts? As He gazes into the darkness below, what grips His soul?

It is the beginning of the end. As night takes hold, the blackest days of Christ’s short stint with humanity close in. Within hours, all of history will be catapulted toward that event for which there is no turning back. The beginning of the end.

RESPOND

The journey to the cross is one of introspection. It is a time for mourning over the sins we have committed that nailed Jesus there. In Scripture, ashes were often a sign of repentance. Many people begin their journey to the cross on Ash Wednesday (first day of the Lenten season) by having a cross of ashes put on their foreheads to symbolize their repentance of sin and need for a Savior (Job 42:6; Jeremiah 6:26; Matthew 11:21).

Today, reflect on your own need. Consider your personal sin and disobedience. Ask God to give you the gift of mourning before Him as you begin this journey. Know that even as you may grieve, you will receive afresh the love of Christ, who died for you.

When God has spoken or moved you in some way, write a prayer of response. This might include words of praise, confession, petition, worship, or even questions you have. Be authentic as you open your heart."

PRAYER

"Lord, let me walk with You through these final hours. Let me hold Your hurt, live in Your loneliness, and experience what it cost You to go the distance. In embracing Your pain, may I comprehend the depths of Your love. In grappling with Your grief, may I grasp the wonder of Your grace. And in dying Your despicable death, may I gain my own soul. I do not ask these things lightly. I know I can- not come to the cross without being changed. Let me walk with You, Jesus — make me ready for the journey."

Excerpted with permission from Contemplating the Cross by Tricia McCary Rhodes, copyright Tricia McCary Rhodes.

[edgewaterfarmcsa]

CSA WEEK 2: June 22nd

- p i c k l i s t -

GARLIC SCAPES - SCALLIONS - BIG BEAUTIFUL  BASIL - BOK CHOY - RHUBARB - 

STRAWBERRIES - CELERY - LETTUCE

Just on time, with the arrival of the Summer Solstice, came the arrival of our berry crop.  And while we’ve been picking for two weeks now, it was not until yesterday that we could see a significant ripening of the fruit. So at the very last minute, we made the “oh hot damn, we have a lot of berries” call and opened our PYO STRAWBERRY fields to the community.  However, we gotta be candid here- our early varieties are not ideal.  While the fruit is plentiful, the berries are smaller than what you are historically used to picking from our fields.  Many factors play into this reduced crop: Asian Garden Beetle, root disease, winter injury, a super wet Summer in 2021, etc… Honestly, it’s a total bummer and we’ve talked about bush hogging the early fruit many times.  BUT, what is JUNE without berries? What is the solstice without red stained fingers?  

We can’t give up on this early crop just yet… so the fields are open and ripe for the picking daily, 8am-1pm.

And for those that choose to wait a bit on PYO, we do believe the mid to late season varieties are looking good.  

All that said, CSA fam, I think it's important as we go on this picking and eating journey together to know about crop failure.  We have the next 16 weeks of CSA.  Which means a whole season of some crops going really well (beautiful and abundant harvests!) and some crops being total duds (think bug damage, rot, etc…).

But that’s farming for ya.  

Regardless, do as you do in June, and devour/shortcake/jam every strawberry that comes into arms reach.

For the season is fleeting!

PRO-TIPS:

Garlic scapes: Have you grilled yours yet?  DO IT.  Smear with olive oil, salt and pepper, throw on the grill until charred, eat immediately.

Big beautiful basil bunches: Make more pesto or toss into salads/stir fries! 

The biscuit topping includes the curious ingredient of hard-boiled egg yolks. I’ve been trying for days to find the reason behind it’s inclusion (as I am sure someone will ask) but without my cookbooks still boxed up, my access to technique information is limited. I know that some people grind up a hard boiled yolk in their sables, to make them sandier and would argue that this makes the biscuits a little richer and cakier. Whether that’s the official rationale behind it or not, however, I don’t care — this will be the only biscuit topping I use for now on. It is perfect. I never should have doubted it.

As for the dish together, the one note I’d add is that the proportion of biscuit to fruit is actually quite high. Now I know this sounds like a dream come true for a lot of people, but should you like a little more fruit with your cake, simply double the fruit quantity below, or halve the topping.

For dough

1 2/3 cups all-purpose flour

3 1/2 tablespoons sugar

1 tablespoon plus 1/2 teaspoon baking powder

2 hard-boiled egg yolks

1/8 teaspoon salt

6 tablespoons cold unsalted butter, cut into 1/2-inch cubes

2/3 cup plus 1 tablespoon heavy cream

For rhubarb

2 pounds rhubarb, trimmed and cut into 1/2-inch pieces (about 6 cups)

1/2 cup sugar

1-inch piece of vanilla bean, split lengthwise, pulp scraped

2 tablespoons cornstarch

1 tablespoon turbinado sugar

In the bowl of a food processor, combine the flour, sugar, baking powder, egg yolks, and salt. Pulse to combine. Add the butter and pulse until the flour resembles coarse meal. Add 2/3 cup of cream and pulse until the dough comes together. Turn the dough onto a lightly floured surface and gently pat it together, incorporating any stray crumbs.

Using a small ice cream scoop or a large spoon*, form the dough into 2-inch balls, then flatten them slightly into thick rounds. Chill for 20 minutes (and up to 2 hours). Preheat oven to 350 degrees. Put the rhubarb in a shallow 21/2- quart casserole dish and toss with sugar, vanilla, and cornstarch. Allow to macerate 15 minutes.

Arrange the biscuit rounds on top, leaving about an inch between them. Brush the biscuits with cream and sprinkle with turbinado sugar. Bake the cobbler until the rhubarb is bubbling and the biscuits are golden brown, about 40 to 45 minutes. Serve with ice cream or crème fraîche.

* I haven’t unearthed my scoops yet, but I did find some cookie cutters, so I simply patted my dough out on a floured surface and cut them instead. Besides, who doesn’t like flower-shaped biscuits?

As for all the other crops included in this pick-list,

welcome to salad season!

The following are some standby combos and quasi recipes I hold onto to brighten up all these greens for eating:

Rice noodle bowls!  Perfect vehicle for every green thing. Just add coconut aminos or tamari and sesame oil.  For protein you will have to look elsewhere- but as for the basil, scallions, lettuce, celery - just chop and fold in.

GARLIC SCAPE PESTO SALAD DRESSING: Remember all that garlic scape pesto you made last week (and may or may not be sweating out rn)? Take a couple of tablespoons of that and add the following: olive oil, vinegar, maple syrup, and lemon juice. Everything to taste- whisk to combine.  

[feysandfeels]

ACOTAR dudes and how much they care about their ✨aesthetic✨

Lucien: He cares, do you think his hair is shinny and silky just by Cauldron’s grace? no it isn’t. He has a routine and a secret conditioner that gives it a golden-like shine, he won’t share it with anyone, no Cassian, stop asking. He knows what colors work with his complexion and what silhouettes enhance his not buff but very defined muscles in a subtle yet you can’t ignore it way. He knows what works, but he’s the best at making it seem like he doesn’t know and it’s just how he woke up. Lucien has the what I just rolled out of bed and put the first thing on really vibe nailed to perfection

Rhys: He cares a lot and he knows you know and he doesn’t care. Self proclaimed Prythian’s hottest High Lord will drop on you his 15 step skin care routine, will facemask twice a week, homemade, with plants, herbs, roots and fruits courtesy of Elain’s garden, how do you think I don’t have wrinkles with all the stress and anxiety I constantly have; and will give you a closet tour of all his black suits if you ask.. and he will judge you if you think they are all black and the same. How dare you this is not “black” this is ebony, this other one is raven, my absolute favorite is midnight (duh), then we have sable and obsidian. That high fae given eyesight really got wasted on you. And also, Feyre where is my ink black suit?// I left it on the bed //no that’s not it, that’s my jade black suit, honestly woman.

Cassian: Doesn’t really care, but he looks nice and will make an effort when required. I mean he has a couple of suits, they hug his ass and that’s all he cares about. Used to have an all in shampoo conditioner, until Mor and Rhys  bullied him into getting a shampoo and a conditioner. Even Az was like Bro, c’mon. Each one of them got Cass hair products for winter solstice once. Now his man bun is as nice ass his other man bun. Tried asking Lucien for his secret, what secret this is just how I woke up. The definition of scrubs up hella nice. Perfect mixture of nice but rough on the edges with a 5pm shadow, hair down (or in the preferred man bun) and a delicious suit. Will always always roll up his sleeves. He knows what it does to the people. Ok whore. Very much into skin brushing. He said no to dead skin cells and yes to good circulation. Weekly massages. The body is a temple ok?

Azriel: He wants you to think he doesn’t care, but he does and he will spend time getting ready for the events, more than he will ever admit. Listen if Lucien is the 10/10 you would never guess that he actually pays attention to this, then Az is like the 8/10. A man of details and has a great eye for color and pattern combinations. No you will not ever catch him in a full bright colored suit, but he enjoys going for different textures and colors albeit dark ones. He looks particularly good in blue and green. Once Mor asked him to accompany her to an event and he came in wearing a merlot velvet three piece suit and no one has been able to stop talking about it.It’s been three centuries. My man served. He will coordinate with you in a subtle way like did they plan that or?? He knows the value of a good aesthetic, but won’t go raving about it, like a certain High Lord.

Helion: KING OF AESTHETIC. COMMITTED TO HIS AESTHETIC FROM HEAD TO TOE, TO HIS HOUSE AND PEGASUS(ES) AND CHARIOTS AND ALL. Not a hair out of fucking place. Sweatpants? I don’t know them. Ew. One must always dress to impress. What do I wear when I want to chill? have you ever worn a toga? It’s either a Toga or nothing, I happen to have nothing in my rooms. Will host parties where the dress code is bohemian chic meets royaltycore, and everyone is like ????????????????????????

Kallias: I mean yes I want to look good, yes I will dress up when the occasion calls for it. But generally speaking no one has ever achieved the balance between comfort and put together like Kallias. Also immaculate immaculate skin. Big believer in face rollers and gua shas. Gave each member of the Night Court their own set, they all deeply appreciate it. 

Tarquin: Of course I fucking care, but the Cauldron did not give me these looks for nothing so I won’t do much really. Sunblock and water. Will, however, try out new styles here and there, in the privacy of his own home and court and if they prove to be a success, then you will see him wearing that to the official Prythian meetings. Will do a 180 on you and appear proper af during the meetings, but in the parties he will show up wearing exquisite jewellery and a long skirt. Dude can rock a skirt. Dude also wears dresses. Looks nice. Will most definitely outshine you. Will neither confirm nor deny that once Az approached him asking him where he got that dress. Will always get the assignment when it comes to Helion’s parties.

Jurian: Pre-amarantha accessory used to be a I have a set of fighting clothes/armour whatever, and the nicer set of those for *political* occasions kinda dude. Post amarantha accessory is more like maybe I will invest in that nice jacket green jacket with gold details, fuck you vassa I did not buy it to match Lucien.

Tamlin: Will show up to the MET Gala in a “black” tuxedo regardless of the theme. 

#Did I just spend five hours with some friends discussing this? yeah well maybe I did #ACOTAR #ACOMAF #ACOWAR #ACOFAS #ACOSF #Lucien Vanserra #Rhys #Rhysand #Cassian #Azriel #Helion #Kallias #Tarquin #Jurian #feysandfeelspost #getting drinks and talking about acotar is a plan I'm always here for.

[nanaminokanojo]

Happenstance | Kamo Noritoshi

CHARACTERS: Kamo Noritoshi X You CHAPTER COUNT: 1/1 WORD COUNT: 2,287 GENRE: fluff | school au | archer!noritoshi | described reader appearance (i think) TRIGGER WARNING: very mild implied sleeping princess syndrome (somnophilia?) SPOILERS: n/a

collection masterlist

📸 photo credits to @/kawaiimallows22 on Pinterest

Sports fest – an idle time for most but to the athletes of the school.

Kamo Noritoshi was one of them, an archer for the school team and currently representing class two-six. It was a jovial time for most as there weren’t any homeroom activities, but to him, it was yet another one of those boring days in school. It wasn’t new to him nor was it a rare chance for him to get to play unlike the other students as almost every month, he’d join inter-school competitions, most of which were a piece of cake to him. He’d been slinging a bow and arrow since he was five after all. They were the best team there ever was to grace the school grounds and unless they graduate from the institution, there was no way they’d be beaten. It was routine, thus the boredom.

He glanced at his watch. It read exactly half past two. The game he was supposed to be in was already starting, but instead of being in the archery range to shoot some arrows, he was wandering inside the school building, particularly that of the freshmen’s area. It was way quieter there than the other places in the area since all of the students on that floor were excited for the games unlike the upper-class students who found the events of the day tedious. He couldn’t agree more with them. He couldn’t understand why there were such frivolous events apart from the necessary ones. They were of no importance to him and since his class had gotten into the finals, he wasn’t needed anymore.

He treaded his way through the quiet hallways, his footsteps echoing. The surroundings were quite eerie especially that the green glow from the sunlight which was being filtered by the ostentatious greenhouse cast itself across the pristine white walls. He walked the length of the plant conservatory where a few meters of turf had been laid out as a part of the semi-indoor landscape when a strange figure caught his eyes. His stroll halted as he turned on his heels to see what it was, pressing closer to the glass wall with his curiosity overriding him. He squinted, adjusting his vision to the brighter light.

On the grass, he could make out the shape of a person, lying down as if unconsciousness caught them in the middle of a promenade. He arched a brow when he noticed a glistening tuft of long hair on the grass. It was female student – you specifically. Alarmed, he ran back to where the entrance to the greenhouse was and frantically searched for you, thinking you were injured or ailing. He found you on the same spot. Hoping that you were fine, he knelt down beside you. You were lying on your side, your back to him, vulnerable to every single danger that the school grounds could expose you to.

“What are you doing here?” Noritoshi whispered to himself. Ever so carefully, he tried to turn you over so he could at least recognize you. He noticed your hand which held a crimson cravat. A senior, he thought. What was a senior doing at the freshmen’s area? He smirked. Then again, he was a junior and he was there.

Even after you turned over so you were lying on your back, your luxuriant tresses covered your face like a veil. Sucking in air, he reached over, but before he could even touch you, you began stirring. Your hands reached over to your face and brushed your hair absently from your face. A soft sigh escaped your mouth, the creases on your forehead caused by the disturbance slowly smoothing into a peaceful mask as your breathing steadied, your chest rising and falling at an even pace.

Noritoshi scrambled back, frowning when he realized that you hadn’t fainted. You were deliberately there, sleeping. He smiled in amusement, about to leave when a soft breeze managed to make its way through the open vents of the glass dome, rustling the vegetation along with the your dark hair. Suddenly, he found himself taken by the sight of you slumbering before his feet. Your lean, long legs were slightly bent to the right, barely concealed by the short skirt that was your uniform which clung to your hips deliberately, tracing your delicate contours.

His eyes trailed upwards to your face, cheeks lightly flushed and glowing with a healthy tinge of faded roses, lashes thick enough to cast shadows on your cheeks and lips that were the shade of cherries, slightly fuller on the lower part, all framed by sable hair that had lush curls near the tips, scattered on the grassy ground in reckless abandon. You were beautiful…like a garden nymph.

He was enthralled, no other words. He found himself unable to move, wondering where he had seen such a face. He doubted it that you’ve encountered each other since he never really went to the senior department. Aside from that, he never bothered to look at the people in the school long enough in all his two years stay in the institution unless he had something to do with them. He blinked slowly. For the first time, he found himself breathless for someone and he wasn’t expecting that he’d see it in an unconscious girl in the greenhouse.

Thump. Thump.

He swallowed hard, feeling his heart racing the more he stared at the nameless goddess in front of him. With his body finding a mind of its own, he found himself leaning over you until your faces were but a measly inch away from each other. Slowly, his eyes began to droop until they closed, making his lips touch with your slightly open ones. He’d never had the urge to kiss someone so badly and now that he had the chance, you weren’t even responding. He relished the feel of your mouth against his, yielding and soft like candy floss to the slightest of pressures.

What are you doing attacking an unconscious person? Isn’t that cowardly, a nagging voice in his head said, making him snap out of it. He inched away from your sleeping figure and swallowed hard, shaking his head, eyes wide when he realized what he just did. It was so uncommon for him to be losing his mind over anyone. I didn’t just do that.

He glanced at the you, trying to clear his head. He sat down on the grass just beside you, looking up. Frustration took over him, chastising himself for the recklessness of his actions. He thought of how it would look like if the you actually woke up and caught him red-handed. He shrugged the thought off, just glad that you didn’t.

Minutes turned to hours and he still stayed there. The urge to protect you was strong and yet he wasn’t really protecting you, was he? What if it was your first kiss? How he dreaded the thought that he stole it and he didn’t even know whether you liked it or not. He felt loathing for himself when he realized that he was as good as an offender, harassing the you while you slept.

His eyes made its way towards the your tranquil form again and to his surprise, your eyes were open, hazel ones that reflected the canopy of leaves above you. You looked rather disoriented, but even as your vision wandered to him, clear and bright under the afternoon sun, enhancing your features, you exhibited no surprise.

His guilt took the best of him and made him inch away from you, watching as you stretched your arms and blinked sleepily. You pushed yourself up and regarded him with a sleepy smile.

Finally, the goddess spoke. “To what do I owe the honor?” you asked.

Puzzled, Noritoshi shook his head slowly. “Excuse me?”

You sighed, but was happy to repeat yourself. “I said –”

Noritoshi was torn between laughter and frowning. “I heard what you said, but…”

You giggled a bit, narrowing your eyes at him before covering your mouth to yawn. “Now I know why girls fawn over you.”

His brows shot up. “Excuse me?” he said, this time with more edge to it.

Your eyes widened a bit and you fidgeted with your cravat, your shoulders tensing. You winced, returning his gaze with your left eye closed and your right eye slightly squinting. “Shouldn’t have said that.”

Noritoshi shook his head. “No… You don’t get it…”

You relaxed. “What don’t I get?” You lightly scratched the back of your head. “Sorry. I just woke up…er…which you already knew.” You shook your head and rubbed at your eyes.

His head tilted to the side. “You know me.”

At that, you burst into bubbles of laughter. “School team archer, Kamo Noritoshi, who outshines the captain? Who wouldn’t?”

His heart fluttered. The fact that you knew him made him feel glad and guilty at the same time. You knew him and with beauty like yours, he couldn’t wrap his head around the fact that he never noticed you before. He shrugged, your words finally sinking in and he momentarily forgot about what he did. “Not really…”

“And yet I hear rumors about you having to hide in the men’s lavatory because a mob is chasing after you. You’ve got to be kidding me.” You straightened up. “Come on. No need to be humble.” You were easy-going and cheerful, that much he’d figured out. And you also liked to talk. You apologized for your comments and asked, “What are you doing here? Aren’t you supposed to be playing?”

He flashed you a half smile. “I didn’t want to.” He shrugged then. “What about you? Aren’t you supposed to be cheering for your class?”

You blew a raspberry. “I’d rather sleep.”

“Figures.”

You stood up. “I’m going home. Nice talking to you.” You began to make your way out of the greenhouse, waving with your cravat. “See you around.”

Noritoshi stood up and before he could even realize what he was doing, he seized you by the wrist, stopping your progress. You turned around and eyed his hand on yours which he quickly withdrew. “Sorry,” he said breathlessly.

You smiled. “It’s fine. Do you need anything?”

“Your name…” he mumbled.

“Pardon?”

He looked up. “Your name. I…uh…I didn't catch it.”

Your eyes twinkled as you chuckled. “I didn’t mention it.”

Noritoshi’s face heated up and he didn’t need a mirror to tell how badly he was blushing. He looked down.

You bent down slightly. “Are you alright? You’re red,” you said, a confirmation of his thoughts.

He nodded. “Yes. I-it’s hot…that’s all.”

You giggled. “It’s Y/N.”

“Huh?”

“My name is L/N Y/N.”

Y/N. Pretty. He nodded. “L/N Y/N. Thank you. It’s nice to meet you.”

“It’s just Y/N,” you half-whined and pouted a bit. “Do you want me to call you *kohai?”

He shook his head, feeling the slightest annoyance when you suggested it. “N-no.”

“Then call me Y/N and I’ll call you…”

“Idiot?” he said absently, shook his head upon realization and chuckled awkwardly. “I’m kidding.”

“Noritoshi?” you offered, the way his name rolled out of your tongue making him want to hear it more.

“Okay.”

“Noritoshi it is. Bye, Noritoshi.”

You started to walk away again, but he realized it was his chance to make it up to you although you didn’t know what has happened. “Y/N.”

You turned on your heels and looked at him. “Yes?”

“Mind if I walk you home?” he blurted out.

You took his hand. “Not at all, but we should get going before your fan girls start chasing after me.”

Noritoshi chuckled and led the way. You both exited the gate and you just directed him to where you were going, your shoulders touching from time to time as you walked. You didn’t live far from the school just a few blocks and soon, the of you were standing in front of a dainty-looking house with two floors surrounded with lawn and fences the color of faded limes.

“This is me,” you said. “Thank you.”

“Uh…”

“Do you want to walk me to my door?” you asked, voicing Noritoshi’s thoughts out.

“S-sure.”

You chuckled. “Are you always this articulate?”

He chuckled along with you, suppressing the urge to smile like an idiot until you’ve reached the door.

“Thank you,” you said again.

“You’re welcome and…”

You clasped your hands behind you and tilted sideways, your hair falling over your shoulder like it had a life of its own. “And?”

“I’m sorry.”

“For what?”

“Nothing.”

You frowned slightly. “Whatever it is, it’s fine.”

Noritoshi placed a hand behind his neck. “I’m going.”

“Okay, but before that, I’m sorry, too.”

“Huh?” He was confused.

“I’m sorry for this.” Without warning, you wrapped your arms around his neck, stood on your toes and let your lips meet in a bold kiss.

Noritoshi’s eyes widened, but he’d soon grown accustomed to your lips which he already kissed while you were sleeping. Chills ran up and down his spine, as the urgency in your kiss heightened from just a simple contact to a kind of potent wanting. His arm found its way around your waist, holding you closer, not caring if anyone saw you as long as he was happy where he was at the moment.

He was still dazed by the time you pulled back, but contrary to his expectation for you to move further away, you leaned closer to his ear and said, “Naughty Noritoshi stealing a kiss from sleeping Y/N.”

He froze. You knew.

Finally you stood back from him, gave him one last peck on the cheek and winked at him as you opened the front door. “See you at the greenhouse, kiss thief.”

-END-

TERMINOLOGIES:

*kohai (後輩) junior i.e. a person of lower grade/class/age (in school/at work) to the speaker

@fushigummy You asked, I delivered. XD did I do the man justice?

Thank you so much for reading. Likes, comments and reblogs are deeply appreciated! Hope you enjoyed it.

© ORIGINAL WORK BY nanaminokanojo. CHARACTERS ARE INSPIRED BY GEGE AKUTAMI'S JUJUTSU KAISEN. [DATE]

PHOTO/IMAGE/GIF/FANART CREDITS TO THE RESPECTIVE OWNERS.

#noritoshi #kamo noritoshi #jjk noritoshi #jjk kamo noritoshi #jujutsu kaisen noritoshi #jujutsu kaisen kamo noritoshi #noritoshi x you #kamo x you #noritoshi x reader #noritoshi kamo x you #noritoshi kamo x reader #kamo x reader #kamo fluff #noritoshi kamo fluff #noritoshi fluff #jjk icons #jjk #jujutsu kaisen x you #jjk x you #jjk fluff #jujutsu kaisen fluff #jjk fanfic #jjk fic #jjk fanfiction #jujutsu kaisen fanfic #jujutsu kaisen fic #jujutsu kaisen fanfiction #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x reader #kamo

[ladyofasoiaf]

Jon ‘One Eye’ & Sansa Stark

In this meta I will try to point out the clues of Jon’s death- warging into his direwolf- coming back to life process. 

Our main hint is going to be : ONE EYE motifs... 

And interestingly this hint is always close to Sansa... 

[Most of these clues etc have been already examined by many people but I will try to put them all in order to show the pattern..]

A GAME OF THRONES:

Waymar Royce

Waymar Royce appearence and story are very similar with Jon’s. 

They look similar:

Ser Waymar Royce was the youngest son of an ancient house with too many heirs. He was a handsome youth of eighteen, grey-eyed and graceful and slender as a knife.

[AGOT; Prologue]

Jon’s eyes were a grey so dark they seemed almost black, but there was little they did not see. He was of an age with Robb, but they did not look alike. Jon was slender where Robb was muscular, dark where Robb was fair, graceful and quick where his half brother was strong and fast.  

[AGOT; Bran I]

They are both young men of Night’s Watch but they were not very welcomed by their other black brothers:

His cloak was his crowning glory; sable, thick and black and soft as sin. “Bet he killed them all himself, he did,” Gared told the barracks over wine, “twisted their little heads off, our mighty warrior.” They had all shared the laugh. It is hard to take orders from a man you laughed at in your cups, Will reflected as he sat shivering atop his garron. Gared must have felt the same.

[AGOT; Prologue]

“Yes, life,” Noye said. “A long life or a short one, it’s up to you, Snow. The road you’re walking, one of your brothers will slit your throat for you one night.” “They’re not my brothers,” Jon snapped. “They hate me because I’m better than they are.” “No. They hate you because you act like you’re better than they are. They look at you and see a castle-bred bastard who thinks he’s a lordling.” The armorer leaned close. “You’re no lordling. Remember that. You’re a Snow, not a Stark. You’re a bastard and a bully.”

[AGOT; Jon III]

Others are a very important part of Jon’s arc and story and Waymar meets with them in Prologue:

Ser Waymar met him bravely. “Dance with me then.” He lifted his sword high over his head, defiant. His hands trembled from the weight of it, or perhaps from the cold. Yet in that moment, Will thought, he was a boy no longer, but a man of the Night’s Watch.

[AGOT; Prologue]

This phrase also reminds us Jon:

It is more than impatience, Jon realized. They are afraid. Warriors, spearwives, raiders, they are frightened of those woods, of shadows moving through the trees. They want to put the Wall between them before the night descends. 

A snowflake danced upon the air. Then another. Dance with me, Jon Snow, he thought. You’ll dance with me anon.

[ADWD; Jon XII]

In Prologue, Waymar gets killed by Others:

Royce’s body lay facedown in the snow, one arm out-flung. The thick sable cloak had been slashed in a dozen places. Lying dead like that, you saw how young he was. A boy.

[AGOT; Prologue]

And Jon dies in ADWD:

Jon fell to his knees. He found the dagger’s hilt and wrenched it free. In the cold night air the wound was smoking. “Ghost,” he whispered. Pain washed over him. Stick them with the pointy end. When the third dagger took him between the shoulder blades, he gave a grunt and fell face-first into the snow. He never felt the fourth knife. Only the cold …

[ADWD; Jon XIII]

But Waymar comes back to life as a wight with ‘ONE EYE’:

Will rose. Ser Waymar Royce stood over him. His fine clothes were a tatter, his face a ruin. A shard from his sword transfixed the blind white pupil of his left eye. The right eye was open. The pupil burned blue. It saw.

[AGOT; Prologue]

So: A young man of Night’s Watch who looks like Jon dies and comes back to life with ONE EYE. 

Let’s continue with the second book...

A CLASH OF KINGS:

Orell

Orell is Wildling who is also a skinchanger. His animal is an EAGLE. 

Jon kills Orell in ACOK; Jon VI:

Jon nodded toward the one by the fire. It felt queer, picking a man to kill. 

[...]

Jon’s man leapt to his feet, thrusting at his face with a burning brand. He could feel the heat of the flames as he flinched back. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the sleeper stirring, and knew he must finish his man quick. When the brand swung again, he bulled into it, swinging the bastard sword with both hands. The Valyrian steel sheared through leather, fur, wool, and flesh, but when the wildling fell he twisted, ripping the sword from Jon’s grasp. 

[...]

“You ought to burn them you killed,” said Ygritte.

[ACOK; Jon VI]

But due to the magic of skinchanging, a portion of Orell’s consciousness remained in the eagle, which developed a fierce hatred for Jon.

And in ACOK; Jon VII he dreams of an eagle attacking him and people talk about vargs and skinchangers:

Then a sudden gust of cold made his fur stand up, and the air thrilled to the sound of wings. As he lifted his eyes to the ice-white mountain heights above, a shadow plummeted out of the sky. A shrill scream split the air. He glimpsed blue-grey pinions spread wide, shutting out the sun… “Ghost!” Jon shouted, sitting up. He could still feel the talons, the pain. “Ghost, to me!” Ebben appeared, grabbed him, shook him. “Quiet! You mean to bring the wildlings down on us? What’s wrong with you, boy?” “A dream,” said Jon feebly. “I was Ghost, I was on the edge of the mountain looking down on a frozen river, and something attacked me. A bird… an eagle, I think…”

[...]

“Skinchanger?” said Ebben grimly, looking at the Halfhand. Does he mean the eagle? Jon wondered. Or me? Skinchangers and wargs belonged in Old Nan’s stories, not in the world he had lived in all his life. Yet here, in this strange bleak wilderness of rock and ice, it was not hard to believe.

[ACOK; Jon VII]

So: There is a skinchanger who dies because of Jon but a part of him keeps living in his animal: eagle. 

The interesting thing is that between these two Jon chapters (Orell and eagle dream) comes a very important Sansa chapter which has many parallels with Jon VI chapter...

An example of parallels:

[…] ‘All I ask is a flower,’ Bael answered, ‘the fairest flower that blooms in the gardens o’ Winterfell.”

“Now as it happened the winter roses had only then come into bloom, and no flower is so rare nor precious…  

[ACOK; Jon VI]

Sansa lowered her head. “The blood frightened me.”

“The blood is the seal of your womanhood. Lady Catelyn might have prepared you. You’ve had your first flowering, no more.”

Sansa had never felt less flowery. “My lady mother told me, but I… I thought it would be different.”  

[ACOK; Sansa IV]

For more, please check: Jonsa Book Hints: B5 

In this chapter Sansa says she wants to be loved and Cersei warns her that “love kills too...” Next chapter is Jon with his eagle dreams and warging abilities:

A half smile flickered across the queen’s face. “[…]Robert wanted to be loved. My brother Tyrion has the same disease. Do you want to be loved, Sansa?”

“Everyone wants to be loved.”

“I see flowering hasn’t made you any brighter,” said Cersei. “Sansa, permit me to share a bit of womanly wisdom with you on this very special day. Love is poison. A sweet poison, yes, but it will kill you all the same.”  

[ACOK; Sansa IV]

Let’s move on to third book...

A STORM OF SWORDS:

Orell and Wargs

In ASOS; Jon I, we learn the name of the Wildling that Jon has killed in ACOK; Jon VI:

“He slew Qhorin Halfhand,” said Longspear Ryk. “Him and that wolf o’ his.”

“And did for Orell too,” said Rattleshirt.

“The lad’s a warg, or close enough,” put in Ragwyle, the big spearwife. “His wolf took a piece o’ Halfhand’s leg.”

[...]

“What’s this?” he said. “A crow?”

“The black bastard what gutted Orell,” said Rattleshirt, “and a bloody warg as well.”

“You were to kill them all.”

“This one come over,” explained Ygritte. “He slew Qhorin Halfhand with his own hand.”

[ASOS; Jon I]

This Jon chapter comes after ASOS; Sansa I. 

And these chapters have many parallels such as:

Sansa knelt at the feet of her future queen. “You do me great honor, Your Grace.” “Won’t you call me Margaery? Please, rise. Loras, help the Lady Sansa to her feet. Might I call you Sansa?”  

[ASOS; Sansa I]  

“I would be pleased to eat, Your Grace. And thank you.”

“Your Grace?” The king smiled. “That’s not a style one often hears from the lips of the free folk. I’m Mance to most, The Mance to some. Will you take a horn of mead?”  

[ASOS; Jon I]

For more, please check: Jonsa Book Hints: C1

We also learn about Sansa’s new betrothed: Willas Tyrell.. 

Willas has a bad leg and so does Jon, in ASOS:

“Willas has a bad leg but a good heart,” said Margaery. “He used to read to me when I was a little girl, and draw me pictures of the stars. You will love him as much as we do, Sansa.”

[ASOS; Sansa I]

If the mare had gone down, he would have been doomed. “A lucky thing my leg got in the way,” he muttered.

He rested for a while to let the horse graze. She did not wander far. That was good. Hobbled with a bad leg, he could never have caught her.

[ASOS; Jon V]

Let’s keep reading...

In ASOS; Jon II chapter Jon’s eagle dream from ACOK comes true and Orell’s eagle attacks Jon’s eye:

He could still hear wings, though the eagle was not in sight. Half his world was black. “My eye,” he said in sudden panic, raising a hand to his face.

“It’s only blood, Jon Snow. He missed the eye, just ripped your skin up some.”

[…]

Can a bird hate? Jon had slain the wilding Orell, but some part of the man remained within the eagle. The golden eyes looked out on him with cold malevolence.

[…]

I will need to get this tended, he thought, but not just now. Let the King-beyond-the-Wall see what his eagle did to me.

[…]

The look Mance gave Jon was grim and cold. “What happened to your face?”

Ygritte said, “Orell tried to take his eye out.”

“It was him I asked. Has he lost his tongue? Perhaps he should, to spare us further lies.”

Styr the Magnar drew a long knife. “The boy might see more clear with one eye, instead of two.”

“Would you like to keep your eye, Jon?” asked the King-beyond-the-Wall. “If so, tell me how many they were. And try and speak the truth this time, Bastard of Winterfell.”

Jon’s throat was dry. “My lord… what…”

[ASOS; Jon II]

Jon almosts loses his ‘one eye’ and becomes Jon ‘One Eye’ Snow because of this attack..

After this eagle attack Jon chapter comes ASOS; Sansa II 

And these chapters have many parallels such as:

Jon wheeled and followed Tormund back toward the head of the column, his new cloak hanging heavy from his shoulders. It was made of unwashed sheepskins, worn fleece side in, as the wildlings suggested.

[…]  

“I wear the cloak you gave me, Your Grace.”  

[ASOS; Jon II]

A new gown?” she said, as wary as she was astonished.

“More lovely than any you have worn, my lady,” the old woman promised. She measured Sansa’s hips with a length of knotted string. “All silk and Myrish lace, with satin linings. You will be very beautiful. The queen herself has commanded it.”

“Which queen?” Margaery was not yet Joff’s queen, but she had been Renly’s. Or did she mean the Queen of Thorns? Or…“The Queen Regent, to be sure.”  

[ASOS; Sansa II]

For more, please check: Jonsa Book Hints: C2

And after the chapter of an eagle attacks Jon’s eye we learn in next chapter that Sansa’s betrothed Willas Tyrell flies EAGLES:

“Willas has the best birds in the Seven Kingdoms,” Margaery said when the two of them were briefly alone. “He flies an eagle sometimes. You will see, Sansa.” 

[ASOS; Sansa II]

Why is Almost One Eye Jon and Sansa Stark being near to each other important?

Because the first Sansa Stark in Stark family tree was married with her half-uncle Jonnel ‘One Eye’ Stark:

So another Sansa being close to another Stark family member who almost had lost his one eye sounds interesting. 

Well, Jon didn’t lose his eye but his face got scarred:

He had almost forgotten about his face. “A skinchanger tried to rip out my eye.”

Noye frowned. “Scarred or smooth, it’s a face I thought I’d seen the last of. We heard you’d gone over to Mance Rayder.”

[ASOS; Jon VI]

Who else has a scarred face? Sansa’s husband- Tyrion Lannister:

“I like your scar.” She traced it with her finger. “It makes you look very fierce and strong.”

He laughed. “Very ugly, you mean.”

“M’lord will never be ugly in my eyes.” She kissed the scab that covered the ragged stub of his nose.

[ASOS; Tyrion II]

Varamyr 

What happens to this eagle later?

Skinchanger, Varamyr Sixskins, takes control of Orell’s eagle. Varamyr uses the eagle to scout Castle Black and spots Stannis Baratheon’s arrival at the Wall.

The eagle bursts into flames during the attack on Castle Black with Melisandre claiming she was responsible. 

The skinchanger was grey-faced, round-shouldered, and bald, a mouse of a man with a wolfling’s eyes. “Once a horse is broken to the saddle, any man can mount him,” he said in a soft voice. “Once a beast’s been joined to a man, any skinchanger can slip inside and ride him. Orell was withering inside his feathers, so I took the eagle for my own. But the joining works both ways, warg. Orell lives inside me now, whispering how much he hates you. And I can soar above the Wall, and see with eagle eyes.”

[...]

“Banners,” he heard Varamyr murmur, “I see golden banners, oh . . .” A mammoth lumbered by, trumpeting, a half-dozen bowmen in the wooden tower on its back. “The king . . . no . . .”

Then the skinchanger threw back his head and screamed.The sound was shocking, ear-piercing, thick with agony. Varamyr fell, writhing, and the ’cat was screaming too.... and high, high in the eastern sky, against the wall of cloud, Jon saw the eagle burning. For a heartbeat it flamed brighter than a star, wreathed in red and gold and orange, its wings beating wildly at the air as if it could fly from the pain. Higher it flew, and higher, and higher still.

[ASOS; Jon X]

Melisandre burns the eagle. Who else got burned in the books? 

Jon Snow in AGOT:

He had burned himself more badly than he knew throwing the flaming drapes, and his right hand was swathed in silk halfway to the elbow. At the time he’d felt nothing; the agony had come after.

[AGOT; Jon VIII]

And Jon burns himself in AGOT; Jon VII:

Jon tried to shout, but his voice was gone. Staggering to his feet, he kicked the arm away and snatched the lamp from the Old Bear’s fingers. The flame flickered and almost died. “Burn!” the raven cawed. “Burn, burn, burn!”

Spinning, Jon saw the drapes he’d ripped from the window. He flung the lamp into the puddled cloth with both hands. Metal crunched, glass shattered, oil spewed, and the hangings went up in a great whoosh of flame. The heat of it on his face was sweeter than any kiss Jon had ever known. “Ghost!” he shouted.

The direwolf wrenched free and came to him as the wight struggled to rise, dark snakes spilling from the great wound in its belly. Jon plunged his hand into the flames, grabbed a fistful of the burning drapes, and whipped them at the dead man. Let it burn, he prayed as the cloth smothered the corpse, gods, please, please, let it burn.

[AGOT; Jon VII]

This Jon chapter comes after AGOT; Sansa IV:

And these two chapters have many parallels such as:

So she went to the queen instead, and poured out her heart, and Cersei had listened and thanked her sweetly … only then Ser Arys had escorted her to the high room in Maegor’s Holdfast and posted guards, and a few hours later, the fighting had begun outside.

[AGOT; Sansa IV]

They took his knife and his sword and told him he was not to leave his cell until the high officers met to decide what was to be done with him. And then they placed a guard outside his door to make certain he obeyed. His friends were not allowed to see him, but the Old Bear did relent and permit him Ghost, so he was not utterly alone.

[AGOT; Jon VII]

*

Yet somehow it seemed colder with Jeyne gone, even after she’d built a fire. She pulled a chair close to the hearth, took down one of her favorite books, and lost herself in the stories of Florian and Jonquil, of Lady Shella and the Rainbow Knight, of valiant Prince Aemon and his doomed love for his brother’s queen.

[AGOT; Sansa IV]

Yet he was trembling, violently. When had it gotten so cold?

[…]


Metal crunched, glass shattered, oil spewed, and the hangings went up in a great whoosh of flame. The heat of it on his face was sweeter than any kiss Jon had ever known. “Ghost!” he shouted.

[AGOT; Jon VII]

For more, please check: Jonsa Book Hints: A10

What happens to skinchanger Orell and warg Varamyr after the eagle burst into flames?

The incident greatly affects Varamyr and supposedly kills the remnants of Orell inside the eagle. 

After the defeat of the wildlings at the battle beneath the Wall, Varamyr has lost all his possessions in his madness from experiencing the eagle’s death; he has also lost control of his snow bear and shadowcat, but his wolves remain.

[Orell dying completely and Varamyr gets mad also reminds me another resurrected character Beric Dondarrion who also has ONE EYE and him dying for good to bring Catelyn Stark back to life... And like Varamyr, Lady Stoneheart loses her mind too... ]

Let’s move on to fourth book...

A FEAST FOR CROWS:

Jon is not even in this book? 

But Sansa is and we learn few things about her crushes:

Waymar Royce:

She had fallen wildly in love with Ser Waymar, she remembered dimly, but that was a lifetime ago, when she was a stupid little girl.

[AFFC; Alayne I]

Grrm reminds us Waymar Royce aka the biggest foreshadowing for Jon in AFFC book via Sansa’s chapter... 

Loras Tyrell:

Loras was another crush of Sansa and we learn that he got burned really bad in AFFC. 

Like the eagle and Jon. 

“Tell me,” said Margaery. “I command it.” Command it? Cersei paused a moment, then decided she would let that pass. “The defenders fell back to an inner keep once the curtain wall was taken. Loras led the attack there as well. He was doused with boiling oil.” Lady Alla turned white as chalk, and ran from the room. “The maesters are doing all they can, Lord Waters assures me, but I fear your brother is too badly burned.”

[AFFC; Cersei VIII]

More about Loras // Jon, please check: Jonsa Book Hints: A8

Let’s keep reading the fifth book...

A DANCE WITH DRAGONS:

In ADWD; Prologue Varamyr encounters with Others (just like AGOT; Prologue) and Varamyr’s body dies, but his mind lives on in his wolf One Eye. 

And Varamyr also thinks about Jon and his direwolf.. 

So we have dead warg who kept living in his animal: A WOLF whose name is ONE EYE. 

Varamyr could feel the snowflakes melting on his brow. This is not so bad as burning. Let me sleep and never wake, let me begin my second life. His wolves were close now. He could feel them. He would leave this feeble flesh behind, become one with them, hunting the night and howling at the moon. The warg would become a true wolf. Which, though?

[...]

“They say you forget,” Haggon had told him, a few weeks before his own death. “When the man’s flesh dies, his spirit lives on inside the beast, but every day his memory fades, and the beast becomes a little less a warg, a little more a wolf, until nothing of the man is left and only the beast remains.”

Varamyr knew the truth of that. When he claimed the eagle that had been Orell’s, he could feel the other skinchanger raging at his presence. Orell had been slain by the turncloak crow Jon Snow, and his hate for his killer had been so strong that Varamyr found himself hating the beastling boy as well. He had known what Snow was the moment he saw that great white direwolf stalking silent at his side. One skinchanger can always sense another. Mance should have let me take the direwolf. There would be a second life worthy of a king. He could have done it, he did not doubt. The gift was strong in Snow, but the youth was untaught, still fighting his nature when he should have gloried in it.

[...]

A sleeping direwolf raised his head to snarl at empty air. Before their hearts could beat again he had passed on, searching for his own, for One Eye, Sly, and Stalker, for his pack. His wolves would save him, he told himself. That was his last thought as a man. True death came suddenly; he felt a shock of cold, as if he had been plunged into the icy waters of a frozen lake. Then he found himself rushing over moonlit snows with his packmates close behind him. Half the world was dark. One Eye, he knew. He bayed, and Sly and Stalker gave echo. When they reached the crest the wolves paused. 

[...]

The things below moved, but did not live. One by one, they raised their heads toward the three wolves on the hill. The last to look was the thing that had been Thistle. She wore wool and fur and leather, and over that she wore a coat of hoarfrost that crackled when she moved and glistened in the moonlight. Pale pink icicles hung from her fingertips, ten long knives of frozen blood. And in the pits where her eyes had been, a pale blue light was flickering, lending her coarse features an eerie beauty they had never known in life. She sees me.

[ADWD; Prologue]

Jon dies in his last ADWD chapter and his last word was his direwolf’s name: GHOST... 

Jon fell to his knees. He found the dagger’s hilt and wrenched it free. In the cold night air the wound was smoking. “Ghost,” he whispered. Pain washed over him. Stick them with the pointy end. When the third dagger took him between the shoulder blades, he gave a grunt and fell face-first into the snow. He never felt the fourth knife. Only the cold …

[ADWD; Jon XIII]

So we have a full circle: 

It started with Agot; Prologue 

and ended with ADWD; Jon XIII

Let’s not forget that Jon’s death was foreshadowed in ASOS; Sansa VI chapter. 

Lord Petyr dismissed him with a wave, and returned to the pomegranate again as Oswell shuffled down the steps. “Tell me, Alayne—which is more dangerous, the dagger brandished by an enemy, or the hidden one pressed to your back by someone you never even see?”  

“The hidden dagger.”  

“There’s a clever girl.” He smiled, his thin lips bright red from the pomegranate seeds.  

[ASOS; Sansa VI]

Next chapter was Jon:

Fore more about Jon’s death and Sansa; please check: 

Jonsa Book Hints: C12 & E7 

“Do not be so certain.” The ruby at Melisandre’s throat gleamed red. “It is not the foes who curse you to your face that you must fear, but those who smile when you are looking and sharpen their knives when you turn your back. You would do well to keep your wolf close beside you. Ice, I see, and daggers in the dark. Blood frozen red and hard, and naked steel. It was very cold.”

“It is always cold on the Wall.”

“You think so?”

“I know so, my lady.”

“Then you know nothing, Jon Snow,” she whispered.  

[ADWD; Jon I]

In conclusion:

Jon’s death, him warging into his direwolf during his death and him coming back to life arc has been foreshadowed since AGOT; Prologue and its most obvious hints were given in ADWD; Prologue by echoing AGOT; Prologue. 

The ‘ONE EYE’ motif seems like a key hint for his resurrection. 

And Sansa is always close to this motif or she has some connections with this motif via other characters or her chapters. 

A Sansa Stark being close to another ‘ONE EYE’ Stark is interesting because of the historical couple: Jonnel ‘One Eye’ & Sansa Stark in Stark family tree.. 

Even the hints of Jon’s death can be found in Sansa chapters. 

All of these tell us that Sansa will be important in Jon’s past resurrection story. 

Thanks for reading. 

Some sources:

Waymar // Jon 

Disfigurements 

Jonnel / Sansa

Jon’s fate and losing an eye

#jonsa #jon snow #varamyr #orell #jonnel one eye stark #sansa stark #agot #acok #asos #affc #adwd #actually jonsa #jon snow x sansa stark #waymar royce #one eye #meta #mine

[fluffveebee]

@skizzbee-blog​ || under the cut because it’s long as hell

tom nook:

sexuality headcanon: GAYYYYYYYYYYYYYY this man is literally ex-husbands with redd. sorry 

gender headcanon: PROBABLY CIS GUY IM SORRY TO SAY. trans guy tom is also great though

a ship i have with said character: i wouldn’t necessarily say i ship it but. tom and redd……. theyre bitter husbands and i love that for them

a brotp i have with said character: predictable but i think about him and isabelle a lot . i definitely think tom would have a soft spot for her and she probably has more energy than he can keep up with

a notp i have with said character: seeing him shipped with like. isabelle or sable just makes me so. so  . 🧍 /neg

a random headcanon: i feel like he likes gardening. he’d probably have a little garden and just plant flowers that he likes

general opinion over said character: youre my dad! boogie woogie woogie

redd:

sexuality headcanon: bi. just cause im bi and i say he gets to be too

gender headcanon: no gender only scams

a ship i have with said character: gestures above to tom

a brotp i have with said character: not exactly a brotp but i feel like he’d be soft for the nooklings. timmy and tommy definitely use that to their advantage (fuckin gremlins)

a notp i have with said character: i havent put that much thought into shipping him with anyone other than tom, nor have i seen anybody really do that, so shrug

a random headcanon: HES ACTUALLY REALLY ARTISTICALLY TALENTED FUCK YOU. WHERE DO YOU THINK HE GETS ALL HIS KNOCKOFFS

general opinion over said character: 10/10 fox. doesnt get any better than this

mabel:

sexuality headcanon: unlabeled! definitely a girl kisser though

gender headcanon: trans girl trans girl trans girl

a ship i have with said character: i don’t really ship any of the able sisters with anyone tbh!! they’re just vibing

a brotp i have with said character: i think her and stitches should be friends. as a treat

a notp i have with said character: none! 

a random headcanon: she stims by running her hands thru her hair/quills and clutches at her apron when she’s anxious

general opinion over said character: i am going to hold

sable:

sexuality headcanon: pan !!

gender headcanon: genderfluid but only w/ feminine genders! probably uses neos along w she/her 

a ship i have with said character: none :]

a brotp i have with said character: her and brewster!! i like to imagine she spends a decent amount of her time off at the roost bc she likes the coffee and it’s usually quiet/chill, so naturally theyd start talking eventually 

a notp i have with said character: shipping her with tom is so uncomfortable to me, no offence to anyone who does ship them

a random headcanon: she watches cooking shows like the great british bake off to calm down!! she stress-sews too

general opinion over said character: i want her to see a therapist

label/labelle:

sexuality headcanon: aroace

gender headcanon: probably had a crisis at one point where she rapidly switched labels trying to find one that fits. demigirl but slightly masc flavored

a ship i have with said character: none :]

a brotp i have with said character: i think her and raymond should talk. i imagine them bonding over living in the city in the past (i like to think raymond would move to the island to get away from a shitty city desk job). label could have raymond try on clothes she’s working on or something

a notp i have with said character: none!!

a random headcanon: she’s a giant nerd, probably has a ton of game consoles but would hunt you down if you ever told anyone

general opinion over said character: woe! identity issues be upon ye

#animal crossing #acnh #tom nook #redd #able sisters #mabel able #sable able #label able

[whumping-to-conclusions]

So I lost the ask where I received this prompt, but it was from @ironwhumper359. She had given multiple options, but I decided on 14 +28!

14. cottage, 28. poisoned blade

This is another installment in my whump fics centering around Pyotr, a Kvani man from the world of a Victorian-equivalent supernatural detective novel I'm working on. I'll be making a masterlist soon, but you can find my first Pyotr fic here.

Enjoy!

CW: Burn scar, fever, past whumper (assassin) reappearing, poison, restrained with ropes, gunshot, character death (from gunshot)

Pyotr stepped into the cottage, shaking off his rain-soaked coat and hanging it on a hook by the door. This should be a safe enough place to spend the night. Shining his oil lantern around the place, he saw that it was small, but blessedly dry. Large windows gave a view of the woods surrounding the house, darkened by the rainstorm, and a small cuckoo clock made a gentle tick-tock, tick-tock in the background. A wooden rocking chair sat in front of the hearth. It was draped in colorful quilts and, upon closer inspection, exquisitely carved with flowers and vines.

Stepping into the adjacent room, the golden ring of light from his lantern shone on a bed--a real bed!--piled with more quilts. Oil paintings hung on the walls, and white stone vases on the windowsills held dried flowers. This place would be the first real comfort he’d seen in weeks.

Glancing around the cottage, the place looked abandoned--the bedsheets were rumpled, but the fireplace in the main room was ashy and cold. Probably sometime in the past week, since not much dust had collected anywhere yet. The poor soul who owned this cottage must have gone off and died in the woods. Bear attack, maybe. Pyotr had heard there were bears in this part of the country.

One night here couldn’t hurt. He hadn’t seen Briar in weeks, since he’d given her that terrible burn back in the hotel. There wasn’t any way she would find him now, especially now that he was tucked away in the woods like this, right?

Pyotr strode over to the hearth and struck the flint and steel he kept in his pack, setting the ashy logs ablaze. As the flames crackled to life, he crouched and warmed his hands in front of the fire, feeling the molten heat glow on his rain-drenched skin. Gods above, that felt good. He straightened up, stripped down to his wool drawers, and curled up in the rocking chair, wrapping the quilt around his soaked, freezing body. He watched the flames for a while. Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock. The cuckoo clock made a rhythmic, soporific beat in Pyotr’s ears. How warm it was here… how lovely it would be to rest….

A shadow passed in his periphery. Pyotr’s eyes snapped open and he slowly rose from the chair, letting the quilt fall onto the ground.

“Thought I couldn’t find you here, didn’t you?”

The rough burr of Briar’s voice still sent a chill of dread down Pyotr’s spine. He’d heard it in his dreams, every night since their first encounter.

“I told you I wouldn’t rest until you were dead. I’m not the kind to give up. I’m not the kind to flee, unlike a certain man that I know. Deserter.” She spat out the last word like a curse.

Pyotr didn’t dare move, even as he heard Briar step closer. “Kill me,” he rasped. “What are you waiting for? Put your knife in my heart. I’ve got nowhere to go.”

“That would be far too quick for you, deserter. You left the Styx, and I want you to suffer for what you did to me.” Briar stepped in front of him. In the dying firelight, the twisted burn on her cheek was a livid scarlet. “I killed the little old woman who lived here, you know,” Briar crooned, her lips curling into a smirk. “She’s buried in the garden, being eaten by the insects and birds she loved so dearly. Funny, isn’t it? How we’re all eaten eventually?”

Pyotr couldn’t stop his breath from hitching. What was Briar going to do to him? Burn him? Torture him?

Pyotr raised his fist to punch Briar in the ribs, but Briar was prepared. She slugged Pyotr in the gut and twisted his arm behind his back. Pyotr howled in pain as he felt something in his arm pop.

A few minutes later, Pyotr was tied up in the rocking chair, hands bound tightly together. Briar crouched beside him and raised a knife. Its cruel, curved edge glistened a strange green in the firelight, like it had been dipped in….

“That’s right,” Briar whispered. “Poison. I’ve been saving it for this moment. You’ll be in pain for hours until you finally drop dead.”

Fear burned with cold fuel in the pit of Pyotr’s stomach. Though he clamped his mouth shut tight and closed his eyes, he could not stop his limbs from shaking as he waited for the slash to come. Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock. The sound of the cuckoo clock was the slow, hard beats of Pyotr’s heart, pulsing in his heaving chest.

There it was―a sharp, efficient slit in the crook of his arm, a viper’s bite. Pyotr grunted as he felt a drop of warm blood roll down his arm.

Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock. How long until the poison took effect? How long until he started to shiver and scream as it made its course through his body?

A few moments passed before the pain began. A dull, aching throb in his arm that spread as the minutes went by. Soon, his whole body hurt. Pyotr tried to move into a more comfortable position, but he was bound so tightly to the chair that he could barely move a muscle. All he could do was sit, enduring the ache in his bones, breathing deeply and trying not to groan, trying not to let Briar know how much pain he was in. At some point, the shivering started. Then the sweating. Even as he had resolved to stay strong, the ache worsened until he couldn’t help but cry out. Sweat trickled down his temple and dripped onto his clavicle.

“Doesn’t feel good, does it, deserter?” Briar said. “Imagine how I felt after you stuck that poker in my cheek. That took weeks to heal.”

Pyotr could only whimper in response.

As the hours went by, the cottage echoed with his screams, but Pyotr found no relief. His body was an enemy, a trap that he could not escape. Briar watched on, occasionally whispering gloating comments in Pyotr’s ear.

“No one is coming for you, Pyotr,” Briar crooned at some point. “Your friends are long-gone. They think you’re dead, left in a snowy grove with your chest split open.”

“Someone will come for me,” Pyotr panted. His mouth was dry, his skin pulsing with heat. “If not them, then someone else.” The words were achingly naïve, he knew, and he wasn’t even sure what “friends” Briar was talking about, but saying them brought him comfort, however small, something to cling to.

Briar gave a long, slow smile, saying nothing.

Pyotr lost track of the time he spent in that dark cottage. Briar had closed the curtains over the windows, so no daylight found its way into that foul place, letting Pyotr know that morning had come.

At some point in this feverish haze, Pyotr heard the door crash open. He lifted his head as Briar rose from his side and stepped towards the door. No sooner had he heard the shink of a dagger being drawn before a gunshot cracked the air, making Pyotr jump.

Briar’s body thudded to the floor not three feet away from him, a trickle of blood trailing from her mouth, eyes open and glassy, her knife clattering to the ground.

A pause, before a low, feminine voice broke the silence. “...is she dead?”

A tall man knelt beside her and pressed two fingers to Briar’s throat. “Yes. She’s gone.”

The floorboards creaked as someone knelt down in front of him. A woman―sable-skinned, with a tumble of dark braids and a tattoo of a rattlesnake coiling around her shoulder. Something about her seemed familiar, but he couldn’t place it. The room was spinning.

“Pyotr,” she said. Another wave of pain racked Pyotr’s body and he cried out.

“Pyotr, are you okay?” She reached out and felt his burning forehead with a cool, slender hand. “Pyotr, answer me!”

More voices rang out in the cottage. “Pyotr! Pyotr!” So someone had come for him after all.

Their voices chased him into the dark.

#whump #whumpblr #whump fic #whump blog #poison #poisoned blade #dagger #knife whump #oc #writing #victorian whump #unconscious #pass out #poisoned #restrained #rescue #gunshot #character death #shot