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brewsterispunkk · 4 months

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marriage of convenience: part 5

pairing: pero tovar x f!reader

WC: 10.1k (longest part yet!)

summary: reader’s relationship w/tovar develops. she and lisbeth dare an adventure.

a/n: thank you to everyone who has stuck with this. it has been months (!!) since I updated this story so if you’re still here—thank you. i hope u enjoy this extra long update :)

series masterlist

PART FIVE

“My love,” your mother called as you made your way to the door, rushing. Tovar was already annoyed at how late you were running, waiting outside, and you didn’t want to keep him waiting for long. He was already unpleasant enough.

“Yes?” You threw over your shoulder, already halfway out the door.

“Will you see Lisbeth today?”

“I expect so.”

“Give these to her for me,” she handed you a bundle wrapped in linen–herbs, of course. Your mother was practically an apothecary at this point. “They’re for her mother’s headaches. And when you stop by Olga’s today, see if she has any of the lemon-honey concoction she uses during the cold months.”

You puzzled. It was late May–your family would not be in need of such a thing until mid-autumn at the latest.

“Why? Will she even have some? It is early summer.”

“I expect she will,” Your mother walks in from the kitchen. “She always has some reserves for the occasional late spring cold. It is for your father. His breathing has gotten worse.”

Your stomach turns to stone, but you force yourself to nod as you take your basket and leave through the rickety front door.

Of course. Of course it was for your father. You silently said a prayer to whatever god was listening for his recovery, like you always did whenever he took a turn for the worse.

He had always had issues with his health, ever since he came back from the war when you were twelve.

It began with a leg injury that never really recovered–he’d taken an arrow to the shoulder and fallen off his horse, breaking his leg in the process. If your mother had been there, he would have healed almost completely and even been able to walk again, but the encampment he had been in had no one with healing knowledge. The wound had festered, according to your mother, and your father was lucky to be alive. He hadn’t walked fully since.

The injury had caused your father to have to sell his blacksmith’s shop in town–the one Tovar apprenticed at now.

His health had been slowly declining ever since. Last winter, he suffered a chill and a bout of a coughing illness that took his ability to breath unencumbered, the winter before that, he’d suffered fainting spells and lost feeling in his injured leg. Until recently, he’d been able to hobble down the stairs with the help of your mother, but in the past weeks, he has been too weak to even make it downstairs for supper. You feared the worst, as you always did.

Graciela and James, your two siblings with enough sense to know something was wrong, were more hopeful than you.

“He will recover soon. He always does.”

Grace had told you the night before, over mending by the fire. Your mother was so weary these days that the two of you had to do much of the household chores. “Womens’ work,’ Petyr called it. You dreaded it and found it odious, but it was your duty. You would not let it fall to your mother, who had enough on her plate keeping the family afloat.

You wished you could believe your sister, but you were always the more cynical one.

You’d spent the better part of your life waiting for the next hammer to fall; waiting for the day when your father didn’t recover and the family was left in the care of the next male relative in line. Petyr. The very thought made your blood turn cold.

If Petyr treated you the way he did now, when your father was alive and coherent, you had no desire to discover what horrors would await you when your father departed from this world.

There had been a time when you dreamed of marriage; yearned for it, even. There had been years when you and Lisbeth, on May Day, had gathered ten different kinds of wildflowers and put them under your pillow to dream of your true love, a practice your mother swore led her parents to find each other.

But as you grew older, more well-versed in the ways of the world, it dawned on you that real life was rarely like the tales that bards sang of. At least, for people like you. You also knew that if you ever dreamed of escaping your village, of seeing all the world had to offer, marriage would end all aspirations of that.

You squared your shoulders as you stepped out into the fresh morning air in front of your family’s small home, urging all thoughts of your father’s illness to the back of your head.

“Took you long enough,” Tovar grunted from where he leaned on the small wooden fence meant to keep the family goat in. “We will be late. The blacksmith will not like it.”

You rolled your eyes, opening the gate and walking past him onto the small road that led through the forest and into town.

“Then remind him who it is you live with. He will have no qualms.”

It was one of the things you hated most about him; his tendency to take everything so seriously.

“Just because your father trained him does not mean he will extend me grace,” Tovar grumbled from behind you. You could hear the buckles bump against the metal of his armor.

That was something that puzzled you; you didn’t know why he still wore it—he wasn’t at war, and nothing so exciting as a sword fight ever happened in your village.

“And why not?” You asked, entering the treeline. The trees cast shadows on the dirt road in the early morning light. “He would do so with William or any one of my brothers if they expressed interest in the family trade.”

Tovar huffed in annoyance from behind you and your lips curled into a smirk. It had become one of your pastimes in the weeks that he’d been escorting you to and from the market. You liked to see how annoyed he could get.

“I am not like your brothers,” he said. “Or William for that matter.”

You chuckled—that much was obvious. Your brothers and your cousin were much more open, more kind than Tovar, who barely expressed any emotion besides annoyance and occasional anger.

“That I know,” you threw back at him. “No one would ever accuse you of being as sunny as them.”

“That is not what I meant.”

You puzzled and turned behind you, realizing what he was implying.

“You think it is because you are foreign?” You asked in disbelief. “From another kingdom?”

Tovar kept walking, face impassive, not betraying any emotion but annoyance.

“It is the same in this part of the world as it is in others,” he says like it’s nothing. “They need but look at me for a moment to tell that I am unlike them.”

You rolled your eyes. So dramatic.

“This village is used to foreigners,” you said matter-of-factly. “We see strange people from strange places every day. People trade everything from silk from the far east to salt from the continent to the south. You aren’t so special.”

Tovar just leveled you with a dry look, and you took it as a sign to keep talking.

“Your scowl and that armor don’t help,” you added with a smirk, swinging your basket back and forth beside you as you walked.

“What is wrong with my armor?” Tovar sounded puzzled. You stifled a laugh.

“Really?” You turned your head to stare at him, but found his brows furrowed in genuine confusion. You sighed. “You walk into the village everyday in full armor. Like you expect someone to put a dagger in your side at any moment. You do not smile, do not try to speak with anyone unless it is for trade. You should not be surprised people are wary of you.”

“I wear my armor everywhere except when I sleep. It is—”

“A habit, I’m sure,” you finished for him. “But still, this is a peaceful village. The most violence we see is from a brawl at the tavern or a rowdy group of traders on leave. Wearing full battle armor sends the message that you don’t trust us. And that makes people nervous.”

It was true—there hadn’t been even a skirmish on your lands in years. Not since the war, when the old Lord died and power passed to his son. Since then, your land had known peace.

Tovar huffed what you almost thought was a laugh, but when you looked back at him, his mouth was downturned and his eyes were narrow.

“I don’t trust you.”

At that, you laughed, a deep thing from deep in your stomach. If someone told you Tovar slept with a knife beneath his head, you’d believe them. You weren’t even sure he trusted William.

“That I believe,” you shook your head and continued down the dirt road to town, leaving a grumbling Tovar trudging behind you.

—-

In the recent weeks, you and Tovar had begun to form a kind of begrudging companionship.

You still didn’t like him–not in the least. He was uncouth and rude. He never exchanged pleasantries with anyone at the market and you were sure you’d never seen him smile. Not even once. And the two of you often bickered. So much so that your mother had taken to seating you on opposite sides of the table at dinner to avoid as much conflict as possible.

Hence, the begrudging part. The companionship merely meant that you had begun to be able to tolerate his presence. Barely.

Your brother hadn’t reared his ugly head in the recent weeks either, being either too drunk or preoccupied with other things to notice you. That was a blessing in and of itself. You still hadn’t really gotten over the embarrassment that had come over you at Tovar seeing your bruises. You knew it was what caused him to volunteer to escort you to town daily and still, you hadn’t addressed it with him.

Still, as May slogged into June, you were stuck with him. Unless you wanted your drunk, unpredictable, brute of a brother to accompany you to the townsquare every other morning, you had to learn to endure the company of the quiet Spaniard.

And endure you did.

You’d learned not to ask questions; whenever you did, you were either met with silence, or a stilted, annoyed response. In fact, the conversation you’d shared this morning was the longest conversation you’d had with him.

That was just one thing that set Tovar apart from your cousin, William. Both men had seen so much of the world, lived so many different lives, and while William spoke of his time abroad with bright eyed and excited words, Tovar’s past hung over him like a heavy cloud. You didn’t know what the grizzled mercenary had experienced during his time traveling, but whatever it was, he didn’t want to talk about it.

Which was difficult for you—you could listen to William talk for hours about his time on the road. But, you’d heard all of William’s stories. Tovar kept whatever tales of his travels closer to his chest than his armor. And you resented him for it.

You resented that with all the freedom in the world, with a lifetime of stories and lived experiences under his belt, with the blessing of being born as a man in this world, he had the nerve to act the way he did: angry at the world, scowling at every kind face.

The absence of that—of freedom—pulsed and throbbed deep in your chest. And all you could feel was anger.

The sights and smells of the town’s center flooded your senses when you reached the market. You took a deep breath and tried to savor it: the aroma of spices from far-off places, the sharp smell of lemons from Arabia, the colorful hues of silk and fabric, the bustle of business and trade. It was as much of the wide world you were afforded, so you took it in with wide eyes and a smile.

You looked down to your basket, mentally going over the deliveries and trades you had to make before meeting with Lisbeth by the bakery. You were fingering a sprig of stray lavender when Tovar nudged your shoulder, breaking your train of thought. You turned and glared at him.

“I will leave you here,” he mumbled, looking around you and scanning the faces of the people bustling by. “You will meet me at the blacksmith’s when you are finished.”

“I will, will I?” You asked, feeling your temper flare. You hated when he gave you orders–like you were an animal and not a person.

Tovar leveled you with a dry look, before rolling his eyes himself.

“Do not be late,” he said, before adjusting his satchel and walking away.

You glared at his back as he went, cursing the broad expanse of his shoulders. Not only was he an ass, but he was a handsome ass. That was even worse.

With a sigh, you set about making your first delivery, already planning on being late to meet Tovar later in the day.

- -

By the time you’d completed your second delivery, the sun was high in the sky and strong. You could feel the back of your neck glisten and knew that when you looked in the mirror at the end of the day, there would be freckles dusted across your cheeks.

You’d already delivered one order of tea to the miller’s wife, who promised you a satchel of grain in return by week’s end, and traded the town seamstress for some new thread. Your stomach buzzed with excitement at the news you’d heard as you left the seamstress’s parlor.

It had been a normal business dealing: the seamstress, an elderly woman who had been a friend of your grandmother, had long been a customer of your mother’s. You knew her well. Your mother had sent you to get new thread for mending, but you always stayed for a cup of tea whenever the seamstress, Agnetha, whenever you traded with her.

“You look more like your grandmother every time I see you,” she said, sitting down gingerly on a stool behind the wooden counter at the front of the shop.

You smiled at her. You’d never met your paternal grandmother, but you had always been told that you resembled her—the same facial structure, the same hair, the same stubborn spirit. It warmed you to hear it from someone who knew her so well.

“Thank you,” you said, finishing the cup of herbal tea and setting it down. “And thank you for the thread. My mother sends her regards. She apologizes that she can’t be here to see you in person.”

“Oh, pay it no mind dear,” Agnetha’s gnarled hand pats yours. “With a household to run and that business with your father, god only knows how she can manage it all.”

You clench your teeth at the mention of your father. That was what it was like living in a village of this size: no one’s business was private.

“I was sorry to hear about your father, dear,” Agnetha continued. “Do let me know if I can do anything to help.”

“Thank you,” your lips spread into a tight-lipped smile.

It wasn’t that you didn’t appreciate the sentiment–you did—it was just that you had grown tired of hearing the same sentiments from everyone. It was suffocating, having everyone know the trials of your family.

“I must take my leave, I’m afraid,” you said after a beat. “I must make haste if I am to finish all my business by day’s end.”

“Of course,” Agnetha waved you off, but then held one finger up, turning back to the back room of her shop. “But give me one moment! I had forgotten—I have something for you.”

You puzzled but obeyed, your interest piqued. What could she possibly have for you?

After a moment, the white-haired woman reappeared with a bushel of flowers with small, white petals: yarrow. She held them out to you.

You furrowed your eyebrows.

“What is–”

“For tonight, my dear,” she leaned in and smiled at you like you were in on some secret. Your confusion grew.

Nothing save for seasonal festivals and feasts ever happened in your village. Besides, if there was anything happening tonight, you were sure you’d know about it.

“I’m sure I don’t know what you mean—”

“Oh, hush,” Agnetha cackled. “I remember it all too well when I was your age. Your grandmother and I snuck off to Geris many a time when we were girls. These are for your hair. It is said they will bring you good fortune and a happy husband if worn on the feast of Saint Julia.”

“Geris,” you mumbled, all of it clicking into place.

Geris was a neighboring village—a town really—nearly an hour walk north of your own. It was larger and a bigger hub for trade than your own home, as it bordered the sea. Petyr would often go there to drink or gamble with his friends, sometimes not returning for days on end. You had never been.

“There is a festival in Geris today?” You asked Agnetha, who now looked as confused as you had been moments ago.

“Why yes,” she laughs. “The largest one of the year—Saint Julia is the patron saint of Geris. I–did you not know?”

“No,” you laughed, suddenly giddy with excitement, already plotting in your head how you could sneak off to experience it for yourself.

“How the times have changed,” Agnetha hummed. “When I was young, it was every mama’s worst nightmare for her daughter to sneak off to the festival of Saint Julia.”

“Is it still as grand as you remember it?”

“I imagine so,” she smiled. “The dancing is what I loved the most.”

“Well then,” you smiled at her. “I believe I shall have to dance, won’t I?” You took the flowers from her. “With flowers in my hair.”

Agnetha smiled a secretive grin and patted your hand.

“Do, dear. Twirl a little extra for me,” she said. “Now, be on your way—and be safe!”

You thanked her and left, walking out into the balmy warmth of mid-morning, feeling all-of-a-sudden more hopeful than you had that morning.

You met Lisbeth by the miller’s pond just before noon, like you’d planned. It had been your meeting place whenever the two of you were in town for years. Growing up, since your father’s property bordered here, you’d often meet in the forest. But, once you’d become old enough to do some of the household work trading in the village, you’d had to find a place to meet during the day.

Now, you buzzed with excitement, the news of the festival on the tip of your tongue.

Recently, you’d been itching to do anything to distract yourself from the monotony of life in your village. As the days got warmer, more and more traders passed through, bringing with them goods and stories from far-away lands. Lands you longed to see, but knew you never would. You longed to stretch your wings, if only a little. Sneaking off to Geris would be the perfect opportunity to do that. Now the only issue was convincing Lisbeth.

You wiggled your toes in your shoes as you saw her approach, eager what you’d heard back to her. You just hoped she would be willing to go with you.

While Lisbeth understood your desires to leave, explore, and see the world, they were not desires she shared. She had always, ever since you could remember, wanted to be married. She sighed at tales of princesses and knights, longed to fall in love and have children. And you knew that when she did that, it would be beautiful. Still, a small part of you envied her for her dreams. You wished that that could be enough for you.

As she approached you, Lisbeth rooted through her basket, looking for something buried in its depths.

“Please tell me you have the herbs for my mother’s headaches,” she groaned as she came to stand beside you, leaning on the wooden fence by the pond. “If I have to listen to her moaning for one more day, I will bash my skull against the wall.”

You grinned at her.

“What?” She asked, finally looking at you. She furrowed her eyebrows. “Why do you have that look—”

“I have something to tell you.”

“Oh dear God,” she sighed. “What is it this time?”

“Before I begin, you must promise to at least consider my proposition,” you raised your eyebrows. Lisbeth sighed your name. “Promise.”

“Fine,” she says. “I’ll consider it. Now tell me, I am withering away in suspense.”

“Alright,” you smiled. “We always complain that nothing ever happens here, right?”

“Yes.”

“And we moan about wanting to see more of the rest of the world, of the rest of the country—”

“I would say you complain more than I—”

“Yes, yes, whatever,” you waved her away, causing her to laugh. “Tonight, there is to be a festival in Geris. If we leave after sunset, when our families go to sleep, we can be home before dawn—”

“Geris?” Lisbeth’s eyes widened. “That is madness—”

“It isn’t!” You assured her. “We have walked further distances many times to trade before. The only difference is—”

“It will be night!” Lisbeth shook her head. “After reports of criminals in the woods in the surrounding villages, do you really think it smart to go venturing to Geris after dark?”

You sighed.

“No,” she raised her hand. “Do not try to argue. You have a chaperone now because of the dangers. Even your father can see we are at risk.”

Your heart sank.

“Lisbeth,” you reasoned. “That happened weeks ago. Nothing more has happened–it was likely ruffians passing through. Traders, nothing more.”

“You are mistaken,” she folded her arms. “I heard tell this morning of another attack on a young couple. At a village only a few leagues away.”

“What?”

“It was a farmer’s daughter from Frayley,” she elaborated. “She snuck away in the night to meet with a boy from the village. Her lover was killed, and the girl was ruined. Her honor sullied, barely living.”

Your breath left your chest, a familiar clamminess taking over your hands.

This story was nothing new; when you were younger, before the new Lord of your county had taken power, such attacks were commonplace. The forests around your village had been infested for a time—small bands of ruffians and criminals who would carry maidens away in the night and burn houses to the ground after looting them. There were several girls in your village who had been abducted and held for ransom, and one who had even been forcibly taken to wife. By the time the Lord of the county had gotten word, they had already been married in the eyes of god. There was nothing to be done.

It had been something that had enraged your mother. You were too young to worry about such things, but you have vivid memories of the doors being always bolted shut, your mother sleeping with a dagger beneath her pillow.

The thought of such uncertainty and violence returning to your land made your stomach turn.

“I see,” you said.

“Yes,” Lisbeth sighed. “I wish to explore, but not at the risk of our lives and honor.”

You smiled at her sadly and nodded.

“Two women alone in the wood at night is a recipe for disaster anyway,” she continued. “How I envy men.”

You threw your head back and laughed at that, having had the same thought multiple times.

You wondered often what navigating the world would be like if you weren’t seen as a target simply for your sex. You would ponder what the world would look like if you could walk alone, unaccompanied, how different your life would be if you were able to work, own land, travel alone. If you had the liberties afforded to the likes of William, of Tovar. The very thought of it made your stomach turn with envy.

That’s when it hit you: William. Tovar. And you knew what you had to do.

- -

When you arrived at Olga’s little stone cottage at the edge of the village, your brow was damp with perspiration.

The sun was high, well past mid-day, and you knew you had to meet Tovar soon. You would be late, just like you’d planned. It wouldn’t be the first time you’d kept him waiting and you knew that he’d be in a sour mood for the rest of the day–well, sourer than usual–and that was detrimental to your plan. You needed him agreeable if it was to work.

You sighed as you made your way up the dusty road to her door.

Olga was someone who you held fondness for. She was an old woman, a widow with white hair and a thick accent. Her husband was a merchant who left her a reasonable sum of money when he died, so she lived comfortably and alone, something you’d never seen a woman do before her. She was from a country from the far South, Aragon, and she had forsaken her homeland for her husband. For love. It all sounded so romantic to you that you almost forgot your own personal objections to marriage.

You have memories from your younger years of your mother and her exchanging herbal wisdom over tea. She educated your mother on the herbal remedies of her homeland and in exchange, your mother shared her knowledge of the plants native to your own kingdom.

As you approached her cottage, you heard the faint sound of voices conversing inside made you puzzle. Olga was a generally reclusive woman–it was rare for her to have visitors.

You approached her door and knocked gently, calling inside.

“Olga?” You called, hoping your voice would carry through the open window.

“Ah, yes! Come in, come in,” she called back, voice painted with laughter.

You nudged open the door and took in the small sitting room in her cottage. On the wooden table in the center there was a clay bowl filled with oranges, no doubt traded from a merchant. Your mouth watered. You knew oranges were commonplace in the South, but here they were a luxury few could afford, including yourself.

“In here,” Olga’s voice called, louder now, from the adjoining room which served as a kitchen.

What you saw made you stop in your tracks.

There, standing in Olga’s well-furnished kitchen, leaning against the worn brick of her stove, stood Tovar, arms folded in front of him, across his face a genuine smile. A smile. It was the first time you saw one cross his face. Your breath left your chest.

Of course he’d have a gorgeous smile, you thought spitefully.

You hadn’t realized you were frozen until a warm hand on your shoulder startled you.

Olga looked at you expectantly, the lines on her face graceful in the early afternoon light. You blinked.

“What?”

“I said, have you met Pero, mi amor?” She smiled at you softly. “He is a blacksmith’s apprentice in town. New.”

You stumble over your words for a moment, tongue like lead in your mouth.

“Si, Doña.” Tovar–Pero’s–eyes caught yours from across the room. “We are acquainted.”

“Ha!” Olga laughed, throwing her head back. “Doña he calls me. You flatter me, caballero. I am no Doña.”

You smiled at them, shifting on your feet. You knew nothing save a word or two of the strange language they spoke. Castillian, you thought.

“He speaks to me as if I am a high-born lady, child,” Olga said, sensing your confusion.

“You are mistaken,” Pero smiled slightly at the older woman. “I know una mujer honrada when I see one, Doña.”

Olga leveled him with a wry smile and held up a finger, wagging it at him.

“You watch out for this one,” she looked over to you. “He is a charmer.”

You couldn’t help the snort that escaped your lips. Of all the words you would use to describe your surly bodyguard, a charmer was not one of them. Pero shoots you a withering glare at your laugh.

“What is so humorous?” He tilted his head.

“Forgive me,” you smirked, sensing his wounded pride. “I wouldn’t use the word ‘charmer’ to describe your countenance.”

Olga tilted her head, hands finding her hips.

“How exactly do the two of you know each other?”

“I am a companion of her cousin’s,” Pero’s gaze moved to the woman in between you. “We have traveled together for… too long. Her family is providing us with lodging until we are able to find work and continue on.”

“Well, a small world indeed,” she smiled. “How have you found our village, then? Quite different than Toledo, no?”

Pero chuckled, shaking his head and looking down.

“Quite,” he said. “In truth, it has been a long time since I have journeyed home. But compared to other places my trade has brought me, it is not so different. Though I have found the people of this kingdom more skeptical of outsiders than my own homeland.”

The admission surprised you; you had spent months trying to pry any bit of information out of Tovar you could to no avail. And now, with Olga, he was an open book. It made you wonder: was it just you that he had an aversion to sharing with? You bristled at the thought.

“Yes, it is something to adjust to,” Olga patted Pero on his shoulder. “They are not used to Southerners here. We must stick together.”

Olga turned to you.

“What brings you here, child? Do you bring me more concoctions from your mother?”

Your smile thinned and you clasped your hands in front of you.

“No,” you admitted. “It’s my father. I was sent to see if you have any of your lemon-honey tonic left from the cold months. His breathing has gotten worse.”

Olga’s lips pressed together in a sympathetic smile.

“Of course,” she said. “I keep some reserves in the cellar. I’ll go get them now, and I’ll have another batch brewed specially for him in a fortnight.”

“Oh, please don’t trouble yourself–”

“Hush, it is no trouble at all.” She walked over to you and grabbed your shoulders, her eyes sparkling as she regarded you. “With my Louis gone, there is no one for me to look after. I daresay I have missed it. Besides,” she placed a soft palm on your cheek. “Your family has shown me true kindness in the years I have known you.”

You smiled a tear-filled smile at her.

“Thank you,” you said.

“Think nothing of it,” she patted your cheek. “It seems your family has a habit of adopting strays.”

With a wink, Olga flitted away to the wooden door that led to the cellar, leaving you and Pero standing awkwardly in her kitchen.

“So,” you began before an awkward silence could settle. “What brings you here?”

“A delivery,” he huffed. “A new lock for her door.”

“I didn’t know Colm has you running deliveries now,” you picked at a fingernail. “I thought the whole point of being an apprentice was to learn.”

Pero rolled his eyes at you, annoyance clouding his features. He leveled you with a glare.

“I know my way around a forge better than that man,” he hissed at you.

You smirked. You always knew how to set him off—how to wound his pride just enough that he would lash out.

“I have been an apprentice since I could walk. I have nothing to learn. It is only an easy way to earn coin.”

“Your father was a blacksmith, then?”

Pero’s eyes narrowed at you before he sighed, seemingly tired of your antics.

“Yes,” he said. “He taught me his trade before I took up my sword.”

“Hm,” you said. “I always wished I would’ve learned the trade. But no, it was too unladylike for me. My mother forbade it.”

Pero snorted at that. You bristled again and shot him a venomous look.

“What? You think it silly for a girl to want to learn something other than sewing or weaving?”

“I think it silly that people in your kingdom think that is all a girl is good for,” he countered. “A waste. My father made sure my sisters knew a trade before he died.”

You blinked.

His response surprised you. A sentiment like his was rare, especially in a place like here. But more than that, it was the first time he’d said something remotely kind to you. In your mind, he was a brute, with no compassion or regard for others.

“You have sisters?” You asked, your curiosity piqued. It wasn’t often you could squeeze information out of him; you wanted to see how much you could get before his mood turned sour again.

“So many questions,” he shook his head.

“Forgive me for trying to make conversation,” you replied dryly.

“It does not matter,” he huffed after a moment. “They are gone now.”

You opened your mouth to respond, but Olga’s footsteps nearing the kitchen stopped you.

“Here we go,” she said kindly, handing you a clay jar sealed shut. “This will help. Come back next week for another batch, or come tell me if it gets worse.”

You smiled at her kindness.

“Thank you, Olga.” You said. “Your kindness will not be forgotten.”

“Think nothing of it.”

“Thank you, Doña, for your hospitality. But I’m afraid we must be going if we are to make it back in time for supper.”

“Of course, of course.” Olga waved her hands, ushering you to the front door. “Be safe. I’ve heard tell of bands of criminals in the woods as of late.”

“We will,” you waved as you left her house, basket in one hand and the tonic for your father in the other.

“No preocupes, we will be home before dark,” Tovar said over your shoulder from where he walked in front of you.

He seemed more chipper as he walked down the dirt road, beginning the journey home. You silently thanked the gods for it–you’d need him in a good mood for your plan to work. Even though you knew the deciding factor would come down to William, you still needed Tovar to be there in order for Lisbeth to feel safe enough to journey to Geris. You would be futile in convincing him, you knew; he hated you. But, though he put up a front, you knew that William could convince Pero of anything.

As the two of you walked home, you silently hoped that your plan would work.

- -

“You are out of your mind,” Pero’s eyes were wide as he regarded William, hands on his hips in front of the fire.

It was well past sundown, and your family had gone to bed already. You hid in the loft, peeking down into the large room below where William stood speaking in hushed tones with Pero.

You’d pulled him aside before dinner with your proposal: to sneak off to Geris in the night for the festival and be back before dawn tomorrow.

You knew he was your best chance. You’d begun to recognize the signs of restlessness in him–the twitching of his fingers, the brainstorming with Pero about where they would go after the harvest ended in the autumn. He and you were alike in that way: always longing for adventure. The only difference was that he actually had the freedom to seek what he longed for.

Either way, after some badgering, he’d agreed. You always had that effect on him–he couldn’t ever say no to you, even as a child. Besides, you’d already told Lisbeth to meet you after dark in front of your family’s house, with the promise that the two mercenaries would be there to protect you on the road.

Now, the only one left to convince was Pero.

“Come, brother.” William reasoned. “We have had nothing but work for weeks. Don’t you fancy a drink in a tavern? A change of scenery?”

“There is a tavern here,” Pero ground out, throwing up his hands. “There is no need to traipse through dark woods in the dead of night for an ale. I have spent my day laboring in front of a hot forge and acting as a sworn sword to your child of a cousin. All I wanted was to come home, fill my belly, and sleep. Now you ask this of me.”

You felt a pang of hurt at the belittlement, and a surge of resentment toward the Spaniard. You were not a child; you hadn’t been for quite some time. You’d practically had to be the man of the house in the months before William arrived, with your mother so preoccupied with your father’s help and Petyr drowning in his cups. That was a responsibility you suspected Pero would never have to shoulder.

William’s voice called your attention back to the men by the fire.

Pero had moved, sitting in the wicker chair to the left of the kitchen, sharpening his sword with a whetstone. His eyes looked deadly trained on the blade. William stood with his arms crossed next to him.

“She is a woman grown and you know that,” William said, sighing. “I do not know why you dislike her so. She is a fine young lady.”

“You watch her then.”

“Really, Pero. Why do you let her affect you in such a way? You can face the enemy’s sword without so much as a flinch, but put you in the presence of a maiden and you tremble like a leaf.”

“I do not tremble,” you heard Pero seethe. “She is insolent and foolish, and cannot follow a schedule. I am always late because of her.”

William laughed at that.

“You are bothered too easily, friend.”

Pero grumbled in response, eyes still focused on sharpening his longsword. You heard a rustle from outside the opened window and realized with a start—it must be Lisbeth.

You hurried over to the window and peeked out, catching a glimpse of Lisbeth’s auburn hair in the light of the fire that showed through the downstairs window. She was hidden by a long dark cloak, no doubt belonging to one of her brothers.

A surge of pride shot through you at the sight of her. You knew she was risking a lot–much more than you–by sneaking off into the night like this. She was of a higher station than you, and would soon be wed to some far flung lord, or even a duke. She risked her reputation being tarnished. And yet, here she was, brave as ever.

“If you do not agree, you will force my hand,” you heard William’s voice. You hurried back to the loft to spy yet again, knowing that soon you’d have to go fetch your friend who watched from the downstairs window.

You saw that now, William stood in front of the fire, blocking the line of light Pero needed to sharpen his sword.

“Move, amigo. I’m not in the mood.”

“And I lament that, but you are coming with us.”

“Us?”

“Yes—”

“I should have known she was behind this. No. If my mind wasn’t made up before, it is now. I will not go with her—”

Your laugh interrupted him, and gave away your hiding place. Pero’s eyes, full of ire, snapped to you. You stood up and raced down the stairs, conscious to not make too much noise, lest you be discovered by your family.

“Oh, please Tovar,” you said, approaching where he sat. “It will be fun.”

He looked at you with a dry expression.

“No.”

“But—”

“No.” He gritted his teeth, standing up to come and stand toe-to-toe with you. You flushed at how close he was—you could see every wrinkle, every freckle, every dimension of his scar. It made your throat dry.

“Why?” You asked, voice packed with as much irritation as his.

“I am driving myself mad escorting you to and from town every day, Señora.” He spat the word, making you blink. “I will not spend another moment more than necessary in your presence. Not unless forced.”

“I’ll call in my favor, then.” William drawled amusedly from in front of you.

You started, having forgotten that he was there. You took a step back from his counterpart.

“Pardon?” Pero turned to William.

“My favor,” William smirked and tilted his head. “You owe me.”

“I owe you nothing—”

“Remember Vienna, Pero?” William’s eyebrows rose. “Don’t tell me you’ve forgotten already–”

“I’ve forgotten nothing.” Pero’s glare would scare even the fiercest of knights, but William didn’t even look phased by it.

“Then it’s settled,” William clapped his hands together. “We will leave immediately. We’re losing moonlight already.”

“Lisbeth’s in the garden,” you piped up, already pulling your satchel over your shoulder.

Pero looked like a deer caught in the headlights. William moved to follow you, picking up his sword from where it was leaned against the brick of the fireplace.

“Lisbeth’s in the garden,” he repeated after you, smiling at his companion, who glared into the side of his head. You giggled.

“Make haste, Pero,” you called over your shoulder. “Or we’ll miss the festivities.”

Wordlessly, he sheathed his sword and stood, glaring at you. The glare didn’t scare you though. You knew it was one of annoyance—one you often drew from Pero.

He grumbled to himself before shouldering his sword and following you out the door.

- -

William had convinced Pero that the horses could handle two riders, with the distance being so small between your village and Geris. Besides, the two mares had gotten little to no excitement since the two mercenaries made their way into your small village. William reasoned it would do them well to stretch their legs.

So, you were two to a horse each. And since Pero intimidated Lisbeth, you were stuck with him while Lisbeth rode comfortably with your cousin. The two made small-talk as you trotted through the kingsroad by moonlight. You gazed over at their shadowy figures as they talked, Lisbeth sidled up to William comfortably in the saddle behind him. You smirked. She had always thought he was handsome, ever since you were children. She was quite at her leisure. In contrast to you, who was trying to sit as far away from the grumpy man steering the horse in front of you.

You jostled as the horse trotted over a bump in the road, yelping and grabbing roughly onto Pero’s waist.

“Alright there?” William called from a few steps away. You nodded a yes.

“Hold on,” Pero grumbled. “You’ll break your neck, and your mother will have mine.”

You had no quick-witted response to that. If there was anything in this world that could cause an experienced mercenary to tremble in fear, it was your mother. So, you simply tightened your grip around his waist, locking your hands together. He stiffened as you did.

You hated how comfortable his broad back felt pressed into your front, how his scent overtook you. He smelled of fire, the forge, sandalwood, and leather. It was a far-cry from the rank stench that followed him and William when they arrived.

Lisbeth laughed from her place on the road beside you while William regaled her of stories from his travels. You frowned at the grumpy man in front of you, silent save for the way he mumbled under his breath to the horse in his mother tongue.

“Does your horse have a name?” You asked.

“Hmm?” He grunted, turning his head a bit to face you.

“The mare. What is her name?”

“Horse,” he replied shortly.

“Horse?” You asked incredulously. “Her name is horse?”

“She has never needed a name,” he said.

“All animals need names,” you sighed. “All of mine do.”

“Hm,” he hummed, not unkindly. “I suppose I wouldn’t know what to name her even if I desired to.”

You paused and thought for a moment. This was perhaps the most civil conversation you had ever had, and it was about a horse. Still, you were loath to see it end.

“She is quite fond of the clovers that grow by the barn. I often see her grazing there. What about clover?”

“Clover,” he repeats, turning the words over in his mouth. He hums. “It is better than Horse, I suppose.”

After that, the rest of the ride is filled with comfortable silence save for the sound of the hum of conversation from the couple on horseback beside you. Despite yourself, you smile. Perhaps you and the Spaniard could find middle ground after all.

The festival was like something from a fairy story. And as you stood there, even Lisbeth, who had grown up surrounded by nobles and visits to court was in wonder at the gaiety of it all.

As soon as your group had approached the city gates, you could hear the music—upbeat and lilting, with clapping and voices singing accompanying it. Your heart had leapt at the sound.

Dancing. There was little in life you enjoyed more than letting the music take you and spinning away.

As you took in the city, you didn’t know where to look. There was light everywhere: torches and lamps making the streets seem like they were glowing. You could hear strange languages on the tongues of passersby as you walked, making sure to keep close to your group. The smell of the sea breeze lingered in the air, telling you you were close to the sea. You smiled at it. You’d never seen the ocean, and though you knew you wouldn’t tonight, the smell of it awakened something in you. Above the thatched roofs above your head, you could make out the shadowy figures of the tops of sails—boats, resting in the harbor.

You and Lisbeth followed William and Pero to a stable near the heart of the city, where William payed to have the two mares quartered for the few hours that you planned to be there.

When you reached what must’ve been the town square, Lisbeth gripped your arm tightly, face beaming as she took in the grandeur of it all.

There were countless stalls set up around the perimeter of the cobbled town-center, tents and poorly-built shacks selling all manner of trinkets and gifts. There were food-stalls, jewelry, flowers, tapestries—too much for you to fully take in. In front of one of the taverns that bordered the town center, there was a group of people, sitting in rickety wooden chairs and stools, playing music. There was an old man with a mandolin, hair graying and beard long, a young woman with a lute, a lumbering man sitting behind them playing a violin with startling precision.

In the center of the square, countless couples danced in tune with each other. It was a popular dance in your part of the world—an upbeat ballad about a hare and a tortoise, one you’d been dancing at harvest and midsummer festivals since you were a child.

You smiled so wide your cheeks hurt.

“Look!” Lisbeth cried, turning to you, grip still on your arm. “Do you remember when were ten and you had to dance with—”

“Eldon!” You winced, remembering the handsy youth only a few years older than you that you’d been forced to dance with by your mother. There had been a time that she was hopeful for a match between the two of you, but he’d ended up marrying a girl in a neighboring village and moving there to take over her father’s house. You were glad of it; he’d been an unpleasant boy.

“The candle-maker’s son?” William smirked from the other side of Lisbeth.

“The very same,” you groaned.

“Oh, he was the most odious boy,” Lisbeth added.

“Really?” William asked. “I remember him being quite shy, if a bit ill-,mannered.”

“Ill-mannered doesn’t even begin to describe him,” you countered, remembering his wandering hands and leering gaze. “I don’t know if I can remember someone else whose face was so vile.”

“Are we remembering the same boy?” William asked. Beside him, Pero’s eyes scanned the crowd, looking bored with the conversation. “I remember him differently.”

“Because he wanted to be you, cousin,” you smiled at him. “He was positively disgusting.”

“He had a scar that cut across his forehead,” Lisbeth added. “From a riding accident.”

At that, Pero stiffened and his jaw clenched, his eyes finding you as William and Lisbeth continued talking.

“Yes, that’s the boy,” William nodded. “Was he truly so bad?”

You opened your mouth to respond before being interrupted.

“Ah yes,” Pero snapped, surprising you. The sharpness of this tone was something you were unused to. His lip curled as he addressed you. “Because a scar is truly what makes a man’s character. How unfortunate for you that you had to look upon the face of someone so…what did you say, Senora? Disgusting.”

He spit the word at you like it was poison. You gawked at his tone, at the malice in his voice, before feeling your own ire bubble in your gut. William and Lisbeth stood perplexed between you.

“He was disgusting,” you countered, taking a step toward Pero. “Because of his untoward behavior and hands that had a habit of wandering up ladies’ skirts. The scar had nothing to do with it. Though how good it is to finally know your opinion of me, Tovar.”

He just opened his mouth, gaping like a fish, before you grabbed Lisbeth’s hand and began to walk toward the crowd.

A new, more slow, group number had begun to play, and you and Lisbeth fell in line with the masses enjoying the festival. From behind you, you could faintly hear the sound of William scolding his companion.

“I see what you mean,” Lisbeth said to you after a moment.

You looked at her in confusion, before turning into the next step of the dance.

“He is unpleasant,” she elaborated. “And rude. No matter how handsome he is. I am sorry for ever thinking otherwise.”

You sighed and linked your arm with hers, as the dance called for.

“It’s alright,” you smiled. “You couldn’t have known.”

She returned your smile and squeezed your arm.

“I wonder why he is so…”

“So…uncaring? Aloof? Unkind?”

“...melancholy.” She finished, and you started.

Of all the words you would use to describe Pero Tovar, melancholy was not one of them.

“What?” She asked, noticing your confused look. “You cannot deny he has a sad air about him. Besides, to think someone so cruel as to call a young boy disgusting because of his scar? To think that you could be that cruel? He must have a sad outlook on life indeed.”

You hummed, reflecting on her words.

Lisbeth was right—as she so often was. It hadn’t been a point of view you considered before. Perhaps the reason why Pero’s countenance was so impatient and dreary was because of something else, something out of your control. As soldiers, he and William had seen the worst of mankind. You remembered what he’d said to you earlier that day, about his sisters. It doesn’t matter, they’re all gone. Perhaps there was a reason he didn’t wish to discuss his travels.

You rid all thoughts of the Spaniard from your mind as you finished the dance; you didn’t want your one night of freedom ruined.

As you and Lisbeth exited the center of the town square, you spotted Pero, sulking and leaning up against a wooden beam that supported the awning to a tavern. You suppressed a smirk at the glowering look on his face. William must have scolded him for speaking to you how he did.

Good, you thought.

“Pero,” Lisbeth called cheerily once you got close enough. “Where has William got to?”

Pero’s eyes flickered to you for a moment, clouded with something you didn’t understand. He opened his mouth to say something, deep, dark eyes still trained on you, when William’s booming voice interrupted you.

“Cousin!” He called jovially, four frothing metal cups in his hands. They were overflowing with an amber-colored liquid.

“That had better not be beer,” you wrinkled your nose, always having hated the grainy-tasting drink.

“Mead, cousin. Come! Let us make merry while we can,” William looked as if he’d had a drink himself already. “I would beg of you both one dance before the night is through. I cannot bring the most beautiful women in the land to a festival and not demand a dance.”

You rolled your eyes fondly at your cousin’s silver tongue. Beside you, Lisbeth blushed behind her cup. You took your own drink, the metal cool beneath your fingers, and relished in the sweet, honey-flavor of the fermented drink. Mead was a delicacy to you. Your family was rarely rich enough to afford more than ale, and you had long been wary of it, not wanting to fall prey to the cup like your brother. Tonight, though, you drank eagerly. Behind his own cup, Pero’s eyes remained trained on you, full of an emotion you couldn't place.

- -

After her dance with William, Lisbeth pulled you aside.

Her pale cheeks were rosy with exertion and with drink, her breath sweet and smelling of mead. You smiled at her, glad to see your often high-strung best friend relaxed for once.

She stepped on an uneven stone and lost her footing, stumbling into you with a giggle.

“Oh!” She exclaimed through a laugh, leaning into you. “If my mother could only see me now. She would be aghast.”

You giggled with her, pushing a stray auburn hair away from her eyes.

“Her high-born lady, absolutely ruined,” you teased.

“And dancing with a mercenary, can you imagine?”

“What ever shall we do with you?”

Lisbeth just laughed. It was a deep laugh, coming from her belly. One you didn’t hear often. Once she caught her breath, Lisbeth sighed, resting her head on your shoulder. The two of you watched as the people danced in the square, content.

“Thank you,” she mumbled after a moment. “I have had a wonderful time. I am glad to have had at least one night like this before—”

Lisbeth stopped herself, clamping her lips shut. You paused.

“Before what?” You asked.

Lisbeth pulled away from you, wringing her hands together in front of her, gaze trained on the cobblestones below your feet.

“Before what, Lisbeth?” You asked again.

When she looked up at you, her eyes were teary. She worried her bottom lip between her teeth before she spoke.

“I am to be wed,” she said, voice warbling. “Before midsummer. My father just told me this morning.”

“What?” you asked, all breath leaving your chest.

“I wanted to tell you right away,” she said, a tear streaming down her face now. “But when I tried, I just couldn’t. Then, I wanted to enjoy tonight. I thought if I’m to move away and become a wife, I’ll at least have tonight.”

You blinked, processing what exactly this meant.

Of course, she’s to be married, you thought. It was strange enough that she wasn’t betrothed at the age of ten and nine. Her father had finally made his decision. She was a lady of high station, the daughter of a Lord—this was her duty. One she was excited for, even. She had always wanted to be the mistress of her own house. You should be happy for her.

So why did you feel so sad?

“Who,” you croaked, before clearing your throat. “Who is he?”

Lisbeth smiled weakly.

“A Lord,” she said, laughing a little. “He lives a two-days ride to the North. My father says he is kind.”

“Have you met him?” You asked.

“Once,” she smiled. “But I was little more than a girl, and I barely remember.”

“Will you have time to…be acquainted before…”

Before the wedding. The words hang in the air between you.

“Yes,” she nodded. “He will come visit in a fortnight.”

You nodded dumbly, realizing the reality that faced you: your best friend would be leaving you to begin her life, and you would be left behind. The thought brought tears to your eyes.

“And he’s not…old, is he?”

It had long been one of Lisbeth’s fears that her father would wed her to a man too many years her senior—an old, country lord who she could never grow to love. If she was to be sold off like a broodmare to a man old enough to be her grandsire, you didn’t think you could stand it.

“No,” she smiled shakily. “He is young—only nine years my senior.”

You breathed a sigh of relief at that. Little mercies. You took a deep breath and squared your shoulders, willing the moisture to leave your eyes. You would not cry in front of her.

“And, are you happy with the arrangement?”

Lisbeth considered it a moment.

“I am… relieved he is not old. It is too soon to tell without actually meeting him, but I trust my father’s judgment. I am his only daughter. I do not believe he would part with me for someone unworthy.”

You smiled at your best friend–your ever constant, loyal companion. Her auburn hair shone around her head in the yellow light of the evening. Her eyes shone with hope. She was ready for this, you knew it. You ignored the pang of melancholy in your stomach and squeezed her arms. For now, you would be happy for her. You would save your tears for later.

“No, I daresay he wouldn’t.”

You pulled her into a hug. She sighed against you.

“You shall be at my wedding,” she declared once she pulled back. “I will refuse to be wed without you.”

You laughed at her.

“Me, surrounded by lords and ladies,” you snorted at the idea.

“Hush,” she smacked your arm. “We are not so different from you lot. Besides, I much prefer your company to theirs any day.”

You smiled at her, linking your arm with hers as you ventured into the square to find your companions.

“Come, let us enjoy the rest of the night,” you said.

“Let us,” she replied jovially.

As the two of you continued on, you ignored the pit in your stomach at the idea of Lisbeth’s impending nuptials.

- -

Your group departed with hours left until sunrise—plenty of time to return to your beds without your families noticing.

The hopeless feeling that struck you at the revelation of Lisbeth’s engagement stuck with you, though, even after you bridled your horses and began your trek home.

Beside you, William hummed a tune while Lisbeth dozed off behind him. Your arms were loosely wrapped around Pero’s waist as he rode silently. The two of you still hadn’t exchanged a word since the tense encounter in Geris’s town square. Still, you hadn’t been on the receiving end of any of his glares for the rest of the evening.

You pondered what your life would look like after Lisbeth left. You couldn’t help it. For as long as you could remember, it was you and her. Your mother has acted as midwife in Lisbeth’s birth, and ever since, her mother had been a loyal patron of your mother’s herbal remedies. You and her had been friends since infancy. And now, she was leaving. Entering and finding her place in the wide, expansive world. And you were going to be stuck where you’d always been: caring after your ailing father and serving as a punching bag for your drunken brother.

The thought of Lisbeth’s absence from your life made your eyes fill with tears, and before you knew it, they were streaming down your cheeks.

You turned your head away from William, knowing if he saw you cry, he’d make a fuss. You took a few shaky breaths, trying to calm yourself, but failed. Before you knew it, you were shaking with tears against Pero’s back.

You knew he could feel your sobs, but couldn’t find it in you to care. He was going to judge you no matter what you did—he’d made that much clear tonight. You might as well let yourself weep.

After a moment, though, he surprised you. You heard Pero breathe your name, so quietly you scarcely heard it.

You sniffled, trying to cover the sounds of your tears. You mumbled an apology, feeling your cheeks heat up in embarrassment. But instead of pestering or making fun of you, Pero only hummed in acknowledgement, before wrapping a rough palm around your own and squeezing.

His hand remained wrapped in yours the rest of the way home, a silent show of support. It baffled you, but you didn’t have time to even begin to question it. Instead, you just let yourself cry, leaning against the Spaniard for support. The rest could wait til the morning.

#pedro pascal #pero tovar #pero tovar x f!reader #pero tovar x female reader #pero tovar x you #pero tovar fanfiction #pero tovar imagine #pero tovar x reader #pero x reader #pero tovar fic #the great wall fanfic #the great wall fanfiction #pero tovar x y/n

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rosemarymonths · 2 years

Text

Introducing a full October of rosemary!! (Oct. 1st - 31st)

You can submit fanart, fics, cosplays, etc for any prompts!! Late submissions are also perfectly valid. The calendar + cover were designed by ilovedogboys on twitter & tumblr!

Prompts:

Day 1: Dating

How do you think post retcon Rosemary’s date went? Or what do you think happened right after their first drunken kiss in pre retcon?? Or what do YOU think Rose and Kanaya should have done on their first date?

Day 2: Aspects

Light and Space, it’s self explanatory.

Day 3: Cats

Girls with cats!!

Day 4: Moths

Girls with moths!! Or maybe it’s a mothman au?

Day 5: Video Games / Movies

Lesbian gaming time or watching bad vampire movies? You decide!

Day 6: Books

Rose and Kanaya sure do love to read! What are they reading though while they’re being all coy and shy with each other??

Day 7: Addictions/Insecurities

Rose’s liquor issue, Kanaya’s uncontrollable thirst for blood, and their individual insecurities is the feelings jam for today.

Day 8: Warrior Cats

I made a threat that if I was in charge of rosemary month, I would make warrior cats a whole prompt. Are they feral fantasy cats, or maybe 10 year olds larping on the black top?

Day 9: Meteorstuck

What did Rose and Kanaya get up to on the meteor?? Did Dave third wheel like a clingy child and not leave an ounce of alone time for them?

Day 10: AUs

Choose your favorite AUs!!

Day 11: Meeting the Guardians

Rose and Kanaya meet each other’s parents!! How’d it go?

Day 12: Jasprose Love Day

A whole day dedicated to Jasprose being a pesky, pesky sweet catgirl and bugging Rose and Kanaya endlessly.

Day 13: Trickster

Rose somehow comes into contact with cherub drugs, oh boy!

Day 14: Family

Got any rosemary fankids on Earth C? The most happiest ending, after all, is just Rose, Kanaya, and their fat baby.

Day 15: Sadstuck

What depressing scenario are you cooking up for Rose and Kanaya this day? Remember Game Over??

These two sure do go through a lot together.

Day 16: Spring

Lesbians going through seasonal changes!! What are Rose and Kanaya doing during Spring?

Day 17: Summer

What summery activities are Rose and Kanaya up to?

Day 18: Fall

The most comfiest season of them all, what adorable things are Rose and Kanaya during Fall?? Playing in the dead leaves??

Day 19: Winter

Rose and Kanaya surviving through winter; are they out in the snow or bundled up inside their house?

Day 20: Earth / Alternia

All about Rose and Kanaya’s childhoods.

Day 21: Grimdark/Rainbow Drinker

The parallels of their grief fueled rages, their skin tones swapping, the fact they both got hit in the same spot!!

Day 22: Dreambubbles

Dead girlfriends get to reunite once again, as they should!

Day 23: Star-Crossed Lovers

Remember that time Karkat forbid sloppy interspecies makeouts??

Day 24: Fashion

Lesbians in some swanky outfits ohh yeahh.

Day 25: Rosemary Kiss Anniversary!!

The rosemary kiss panel is 10 years old!! Redraw to celebrate it!

Day 26: Wedding

Rose and Kanaya get married!!

Day 27: Honeymoon

What are they doing for their honeymoon?? Hopefully not causing any chaos.

Day 28: Rain / Sun

Maybe they’re going through weathers on Earth C?? Or perhaps we can talk about the contrasting weather between their home lives! Kanaya is awfully associated with the sun, and Rose could be linked with the rain. Either way, do something with rain or the sun!

Day 29: Double Date

Who are Rose and Kanaya going on a double date with?

Day 30: Lilith In Starlight

Let’s take a moment to remember that amazing rosemary song.

Day 31: Halloween!!

Rose and Kanaya celebrate Halloween!! What costumes are they wearing? Are they passing out candy? Going to halloween parties? Or maybe taking their child(ren) out for the night?? Or maybe they’re going trick or treating as a date, who knows!! Thank you for participating in rosemary month!!

Specific tags I’ll be tracking are: #rosemarymonth , #rosemarymonth2022

You can also @ this account to make sure! If you have any questions, the inbox is open. Happy rosemary month!!

#homestuck #rosemary #rose lalonde #kanaya maryam

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itscomingupaces · 3 months

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what do you think each of the counselors' favorite season is? :)

Aaaahhh this is such a good question!!

Laura - I see Laura as a spring girly. She grew up obsessed with animals, and this is when most all the new baby birds, rabbits, etc. appeared. Her favourite flowers are spring flowers as well, like tulips and lilacs.

Max - He loves fall! It's not too hot, not too cold, I can see him loving pumpkin spice lattes and Halloween. Max loves to go for walks and look at the leaves changing colour with Laura.

Ryan - I see Ryan also enjoying fall. He has 10 variations of the same 1 outfit, which works much better in the fall than any other time of year. His favourite podcast puts out extra content closer to Halloween, and he loves dressing up with his sister and taking her trick-or-treating. Fall also brings back routine with school, which is good for our boy.

Dylan - I can see him really appreciating winter, which is a controversial choice. He would nerd out over snowflakes when he was little, and he still loves going to see Christmas lights with his mom. Dylan prefers to be cold so he can bury himself in 10 blankets and Ryan's sweaters, which is much easier in winter.

Emma - Summer and Emma go hand in hand. She loves going to the beach, swimming, and late nights by the fire. Sure, summer gives her tons of content to film, but she truly enjoys the heat and the long days. I can see her have seasonal affective disorder so she dreads fall and winter.

Jacob - Jacob also loves summer. He plays outdoor soccer, football, and field lacrosse during the summer months, and he loves going to the outdoor music festivals held every year where he lives. Jacob isn't the most studious when we meet him, so I think he also appreciates not having to do school work during the summer.

Abi - Spring is a time of change, new beginnings, and new growth, which I think would be very inspiring to Abi. She would spend a bit of time each day photographing the new flowers in bloom for her to sketch later. She also loves going to the local park to watch all the new ducklings grow up.

Nick - I think Nick also loves spring and summer. He surfs and plays soccer, which is easier to do when it's warmer. He's indecisive though, so he can't pick a true favourite between the two.

Kaitlyn - Kaitlyn will say she doesn't have a favourite season, but she has a soft spot for winter. Her birthday is in December, she likes watching women's hockey, and she gets to break out her favourite scarf when it heys cold - one a friend knit for her as a birthday present when she was 14.

#the quarry #dylan lenivy #ryan erzahler #laura kearney #max brinly #jacob custos #abigail blyg #emma mountebank #nick furcillo #kaitlyn ka #kat answers #thank you for the ask!#i hope these make sense

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dailyhelldorm · 4 months

Text

Dorm-mentioned Seasonal Voice Lines & Phone Calls

Currently being updated.

Please note that Topic 1 & 2 are from the Official English release. Topic 3 & 4 are my translation.

Aira

Spring - Night 1: My roommate Sakuma gave me some cherry blossom-flavored chocolate and said ''It's a secret ♪'' It's late at night, but I still want to eat them…

Summer - Morning 2: Tenshouin treated ALKALOID to some really fancy ice cream. Isn't that cool?

Autumn - Evening 1: Sakuma's smiling mysteriously by the window with the full moon at his back… How aesthetic! I wish I could put it on a poster!

Summer - Evening 3: There is a lot of Sakuma-senpai's tomato juice inside the fridge. Maybe I should try to drink some for my health?

Autumn - Night 3: The image of Tenshouin-senpai drinking black tea while reading his book, it was too aesthetic I unconsciously gazed at him... ♪

Autumn - Morning 4: Fuuah... I had a hard time falling asleep so I joined Sakuma-senpai for a conversation... Though, I still ended up staying up late.

Eichi

Summer - Evening 1: I've got a giant watermelon. I want to share it with everyone in the dorm. And I'll save some for you in advance ♪

Summer - Evening 3: Nowadays, I often have a chat with Shiratori-kun before bed. We talk about the memories of the summer festival that happened recently.

Rei

Winter - Night 1: Winters are harsh on my roommate, Tenshouin. On top of that, he seems swamped with work. I hope he isn't overdoing it.

Summer - Morning 3: For a vampire, sunlight is our natural enemy, but it seems you can say the same with the human. Tenshouin-kun is swaying on his own feet.

Summer - Noon 3: Oh? The chill tomato juice in the fridge has increased. I wonder who was the one refilling them in there?

Winter - Evening 4: Shiratori-kun just contacted me, and said he just brought a snow rabbit-shaped cake for me and Tenshouin-kun... ♪

Outsiders

Rinne's Winter - Night 1: I met Aichan in the dorm hallway, and he freaked out. Why is that? I mean, he doesn't seem to have any problems with those two dudes in his room at all…

Phone Call

Rei: Hello? I just talked to Shiratori-kun, but he left his phone at my place. He said you were going to meet up later, so if you can find Shiratori-kun, tell him I am keeping his phone for me.

Aira: Hello~… Uhm, when I am about to enter my dorm room, I hear Tenshouin-senpai and Sakuma-senpai are arguing… Urgh, what should I do at times like this!?

Office Interaction

Eichi: It looks like you won't be heading back until late again. Aira: Every day there's just too much work to do...!

#rei sakuma #eichi tenshouin #aira shiratori #translation #dorm translation #enstars translation

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beomiracles · 1 month

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txt as seasons

A/N ─ really inexplainable, I'm high idk, just read, it'll hopefully make a little sense :3 warnings: none <3

YEONJUN is late night drives with the windows down, it’s 9pm and the sun has yet to set. Music blasts through your ears as you lean out the window, the warm breeze caressing your skin. Yeonjun is the cold ice cream against your lips, he’s the long days spent at the beach, sunbathing and diving for seashells. Yeonjun is the lively barbeque in your parents backyard, surrounded by friends and family as you cook and eat together. Yeonjun is picking fresh strawberries, he’s the walks through the open fields and he’s reading a book in your hammock all afternoon. Yeonjun is summer.

SOOBIN is the first snow, exciting, nostalgic, gentle and soft. Soobin is staying in, curled up by the fireplace, a book in your hand as you read to each other. Soobin is the kids seeing snow for the first time, he’s the snow angels, the snowmen, childish, innocent, pure, he’s rosy cheeks and pink noses. Soobin is hot chocolate after dinner, he’s cheesy holiday movies and playing santa for christmas. He’s the joy and love for family, even during the darkest part of the year. Soobin is winter.

BEOMGYU is the warm oranges, shining like gold. Beomgyu is fuzzy sweaters because you refuse to wear a coat just yet. He’s jumping in leaf piles, getting the leaves everywhere, only to remake the pile and do it all over again. Beomgyu is scary movies, he’s trick or treating no matter how old you are. He’s the late afternoon walks, just in time to see the sun set, he’s warm beverages, preferably tea. Beomgyu is scarfs wrapped snugly around your neck, he’s the cool wind blowing your hair, he’s the music on the radio. Beomgyu is fall.

TAEHYUN is the flowers that take the longest to bloom, yet still outshine the rest. He’s the sound of birds chirping in the early morning sun. Taehyun is getting excited over the smallest signs of the seasons changing, he’s the trees regaining their leaves. Taehyun is the birds returning home after the long winter. He’s morning walks, he’s picking the first few flowers to bloom. Taehyun is the days getting longer, he’s the sun getting warmer and he’s the animals softly waking up from their hibernation. Taehyun is spring.

HUENINGKAI is waving goodbye to the birds as they leave for the winter, he’s greeting them again in spring. Hueningkai is picnics under the sun, he’s the snowball fight at school. Hueningkai is not being able to pick your favorite holiday, he’s excited over the first snow, he’s looking for the first signs of spring, he’s planning your summer four months in advance, he’s taking your halloween very seriously. Hueningkai is changing like the seasons, he’s the warm summer breeze, he’s the sounds of birds chirping, he’s the chants of christmas songs, he’s rewatching your favorite horror movies. Hueningkai is all seasons.

#txt #txt fanfic #kang taehyun #choi beomgyu #choi yeonjun #choi soobin #huening kai #beomiracles soft thoughts ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 #beomiracles ₊˚⊹ ᰔ #txt post #seasons #spring #summer #winter #autumn

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kanekoii · 5 months

Note

Hi! Can i ask for Zuttomo + aia where reader sees their new outfits and get really flustered at them(separate) bc i love all of their new outfits smmmmmmmmm!

lyra's notes -> ughggh i had sm fun making this I LOVE ZUTTOMO RAAAAAHH and im sorry i didnt know how to write aia's part so she wasn't included :(

pairings -> zuttomo x gn! reader

genre -> scenario, fluff

song -> pleaser - wallows (nothing to do with the fic just what im listening to rn)

warnings -> established relationship, food mentions

PETRA GURIN ->

going to an aquarium in the spring with your girlfriend was already a fun day out, but now it was exponentially more so. she was dressed so adorably that you could hardly take your eyes off her! from her cute and frilly dress to her cream colored jacket to the way her hair was styled, she was absolutely adorable! you ended up with a lot of pictures of her on your phone that day, that's for sure. the best two by far were one of her standing in front of one of the aquarium's tanks with the cute creatures swimming toward her. the picture ended up being a little artistic in nature because her back was facing you in the dimly lit room, but it was absolutely beautiful. the second picture was just her sitting under the spring cherry blossoms and drinking a soda with a happy look in her icy blue eyes.

REIMU ENDOU ->

her new swimsuit is so adorable! your phantom girlfriend looks so, SO adorable playing on the beach with you. her soft, white hair tied behind her in two braids that didn't end until just below her knees was so tempting to play with oh my god. her outfit is very beachy, but nothing stops her from wearing it out in public too for an outing on a warm summer day! even if it's just getting ice cream then going swimming, any time spent with your girlfriend is well worth it, right? she doesn't exactly swim, she more or less just floats on a doughnut raft and talks with you, but imagine doing that late into the night. just floating together and looking at the stars.

ENNA ALOUETTE ->

imagine going apple picking with her on one of those crisp fall days. laughing and making jokes on the car ride to and from there, baking yummy treats and warm foods together. enna will even do a little twirl in her dress, and that's the most fanservice you will probably ever get. imagine making hot chocolate with her and baking desserts, oughh it would be so fucking cute. making apple pie (if you like it, if not then some other kind of dessert) with enna is very chaotic but ends up being cute when she shows her more soft side. donning her glasses and taking off her heavy overcoat, she'll still laugh and joke with you while the both of you collaborate to make a warmly flavored and yummy dessert!

MILLIE PARFAIT ->

playing in the snow with her! imagine taking walks in the mid winter in the light, powdery snow with cups of coffee or other warm drinks in hand. it will quickly devolve into throwing snow at each other. there's not enough yet for a proper snowball fight, so you and millie end up just chucking half-handfuls of snow at each other. your laughs and giggles echo slightly on the cold night her frilly skirt swirls around as the both of you eventually run inside as the snowstorm kicks up in intensity. you'd end up just drinking hot drinks and sitting with her cat and watching movies together.

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bhhstilinski · 3 months

Text

Chapter 4

The air was pleasantly warm as Annabeth stepped out of her car, taking a deep breath. Fall had always been her favorite season; as much as she loved blankets of snow in the winter, fresh blossoms in the spring, and the bright possibility of long summer days, fall’s crisp atmosphere and changing leaves would always have her heart. Although it was only the beginning of September and summer was still clinging to New York, Annabeth could feel the promise of autumn days in her future.

She retrieved her backpack from the backseat and locked the car behind her, proceeding up the driveway to the house. She could tell by looking at the cars in the garage that her dad was still at the university where he worked, but her stepmother was home. Annabeth knew her younger brothers would still be at soccer practice until 5:00, so her stepmother wouldn’t be leaving to pick them up for a long time.

Instead of heading inside to be greeted with the chilly atmosphere, Annabeth elected to remain outdoors in the warmth of the late-summer sun. She tucked her backpack away in the corner of the garage and slipped her car keys into its smallest pocket. Then she set off down the driveway, embarking on a walk to the park.

As she trekked up the street, Annabeth was painfully aware she was traversing the same path she had once used to walk home from the bus stop. She approached the street corner where she would bound down the bus steps, never forgetting to turn around and watch for Percy’s wave. Even after saying goodbye to him on the bus, she knew to turn around and look at the windows before the vehicle pulled away. She would always wave back, not caring if anyone thought she was strange for bidding farewell to the giant yellow machine that carried her to and from school.

With a sigh and a shake of her head, Annabeth passed the street corner. She crossed and turned right, headed for the park. She could remember walking there with her dad before he met her stepmother; they would spend afternoons playing sports in the field or climbing on the playground equipment. It was almost laughable to think about now. These days he barely paid her any mind at all. He felt like a different person than who he’d been on those adventurous afternoons.

Annabeth only turned seventeen two months ago, but she had felt like an adult for years. She’d had to fend for herself ever since her dad and stepmother were married, and it only got worse when her half-brothers were born. Annabeth had only been six, but she felt a shift in their household. No longer did she feel like a bright spot to her father; she was suddenly treated like a burden tying him to his past life, those years before he’d met his wife.

Looking both ways, Annabeth crossed the street and reached the sidewalk. Her father’s lesson on how to safely walk through the road echoed in her ears. He’d instructed her to never walk diagonally because it would mean she would be in the street for longer, even if it would make the overall walk time shorter. Despite the fact that she was no longer five years old, Annabeth had never crossed a road diagonally.

She followed the ups and downs of the sidewalk, strolling along its small hills. Annabeth reminded herself that she’d wanted to go on a walk to clear her head, but it seemed to be having the opposite effect. She tried to let her mind drift, gazing up at the trees that grew alongside the path. Some of them leaned over her head, providing bursts of shade from the sun. Through the trees sat homes and neighborhoods, and Annabeth could remember peering out the bus windows at those street signs, waiting for the one spelling “Fabled Oaks” to appear.

Sure enough, Annabeth reached the peak of a large hill, and across the street to her right was the sign. It proclaimed the title of the neighborhood in bold letters, sitting at the end of the street amongst the trees. As long as she’d known Percy, she hadn’t spent much time at his house. But for some reason, against her will, even, Annabeth could still remember the route through that neighborhood to reach his home.

~ flashback ~

Annabeth glanced to her right and then to her left. Knowing that a street crossing was necessary, she’d long debated with herself about which way to look first. She decided that looking left last made more sense. After all, it was the side of the street she would be walking on first, so it would be much more disastrous if she looked there first and a car appeared in that direction as she checked the other way. At the moment, there were no cars in sight, so Annabeth proceeded toward the neighborhood.

The street sign was a familiar landmark to her. She’d spent the last three years seeing it from the bus window, so walking past it herself felt strange. It was almost like she was surprised that the neighborhood actually continued past what was visible from the street.

She repeated Percy’s instructions in her head. Stay right until you reach the cul-de-sac, then turn into the driveway of the first house on the left. Annabeth walked past a side street, staying right. The houses lining the street were smaller than the ones in her own neighborhood, but they all seemed to have nice yards that would be fun for kicking around a soccer ball or climbing trees. Annabeth knew Percy was partial to swimming, but she’d seen him playing other sports at a distance during recess.

As the summer sun beat down on her, Annabeth was suddenly very aware of the amount she was sweating. Her head felt like it was on fire, her dark hair soaking in the heat. Her shirt, displaying the logo for a summer camp she’d gone to last month, stuck to her skin. She felt exhilarated from the exertion of the walk, but she hadn’t quite thought through the fact that it would make her sweat. Annabeth slowed her pace, fanning herself with the bottom of her shirt and waving her hand in an attempt to cool off. Remembering what she had read about fanning yourself actually expending extra energy, she stopped. She would just have to deal with it.

Annabeth could see a cul-de-sac around the next curve in the road. She was excited to see Percy outside of school. They’d never hung out over the summer before. She’d never even seen him in a setting that wasn’t school-related. They’d spent the entire summer using their school Google accounts to email back and forth to make plans. Percy had spent June at swim camp, while Annabeth had found her July occupied by her own summer camp and visits to her grandparents on the ocean. August was the only month they could make it work.

Percy’s birthday was the next week, and since Annabeth wasn’t close with his other friends, he’d invited her over to hang out just the two of them the week prior. She felt oddly nervous about it all. She and Percy had never been alone before. What if it was awkward and neither of them knew what to say? She just hoped their friendship would translate off the school bus, too. They had never even been in the same class before, although they would be for fourth grade in the upcoming school year.

Making a left onto the first driveway in the cul-de-sac, Annabeth stared up at the house in front of her. The driveway ended at an open garage which was only half full with a car. The other half was stuffed with knick knacks. Annabeth thought she could spot a bike, some boxes, and even a dog bed. The rest of the house was painted a warm tan color. The sun landed on the side paneling, giving it an inviting appearance. A small tree grew alongside the walking path, drooping over with beautiful reddish-purple leaves. Other plants lined the path too, leading Annabeth to the front door.

In response to her knock, Annabeth could hear a distant pattering of feet running quickly toward the door. It swung open with gusto to reveal Percy Jackson. His blonde curls bounced and settled into place, still recovering from his mad dash to the door. His eyes shone with excitement, pairing nicely with the smile radiating from every muscle in his face. To Annabeth’s relief, he didn’t seem to notice how sweaty she was.

“Hey,” he greeted her simply.

“Hey,” she said in return, trying not to grin and failing as she always did.

The pair of them stood in silence for a moment, each taking in the fact that the other was actually standing in front of them on this summer afternoon. Then a woman appeared in the hallway behind Percy.

“Well, invite her in!” called Sally Jackson. Annabeth recognized Percy’s mom from holiday parties at school, when she would always volunteer to help organize and run the various stations for the kids.

Percy’s eyes widened, and he blushed. “Right, uh, come on in,” he said, swinging the door open wider. Annabeth stepped into the house, taking it in. To her left was a staircase, leading to a landing with several doors branching off of it. To her right was a coat closet and a mat with shoes on it. Annabeth noticed Percy’s sneakers, which had obviously been tossed haphazardly onto the mat. In front of her was a hall leading to the kitchen and living room. After Annabeth removed her shoes, Percy led her down the hall.

His mom stood in the kitchen, rinsing off some fruit. “A snack for later,” she told them with a smile. Percy looked mortified for some reason. He whisked Annabeth out of the kitchen.

Percy took her on a tour of the house, pointing out his spot on the couch where he would always sit to watch TV with his mom. He showed Annabeth the garage, where he introduced her to his old dog Mrs. O’Leary. Then he brought her upstairs and showed her his bearded dragon, which lived in a glass enclosure under a heat lamp in his room. Annabeth noticed a rubix cube sitting on his desk. It brought back fond memories of the past year, even though she wasn’t super into solving the puzzle anymore.

“I haven’t touched it since you solved it for me last,” Percy said, having spotted where Annabeth’s gaze landed. “I’m too scared I’ll mess it up.” Both of them chuckled awkwardly. They weren’t used to hanging out like this, and Annabeth could feel it. She thought Percy probably could too. But she knew they just needed to do something to take their minds off it, and then everything would be normal again.

Before she could suggest an activity, Percy beat her to it. “Want to see the backyard?” he asked, continuing his tour.

“Yeah, sure,” Annabeth responded. She followed him back down the stairs and through the kitchen again. On the back left wall, a door led to a porch outside. Percy then descended the steps that took them to the grassy yard, his swim team shirt billowing off his back with the quick movement.

Having shown her the backyard, Percy seemed at a loss for what to do next. Annabeth stepped in. “Why don’t we play some football? We can make up our own playbook.”

Percy seemed to brighten at this suggestion. “Oh, yeah, good idea!” he exclaimed. “I’ll run and get some paper and a pencil. The football is in that bin under the porch,” he said, and took off back up the stairs they’d just come from.

Annabeth walked under the porch, finding the bin easily. She opted for the rubber Nerf football rather than the full-size leather one. She emerged from under the porch just as Percy scrambled back down the steps, holding a few half-size papers and a pencil. He set them on the stair second from the bottom and looked over at Annabeth eagerly.

“I’ll be the quarterback,” she decided.

“Works for me, receiver’s my favorite position anyway,” Percy concurred. They lined up as if there were twenty more players on the grass with them.

“Blue, forty-two, set… hut!” Annabeth shouted, hiking the ball to herself and watching as Percy set off on a screen route. She threw the ball toward him down the imaginary line of scrimmage, sending it in a spiral. He caught it firmly and took off across the pretend field.

Annabeth followed him, blocking imaginary opponents as she and Percy sprinted. Percy ran until he decided he’d gone far enough, declaring that he had reached the end zone with a yell of “Touchdown!” Annabeth jogged in after him. They high-fived, and Percy spiked the ball.

“Maybe we should come up with color codes for each play,” Annabeth suggested as they walked back to the porch, football under Percy’s arm.

“Ooh, yeah,” he agreed. “The screen pass can be blue.”

Annabeth nodded and went to record the play in their makeshift playbook. “NFL coaches will be in envy of us,” she told Percy. “This book will be coveted by playmakers everywhere.”

Percy laughed. “They want it? Well they can’t have it,” he said defensively. “This book is ours and ours alone.” He took the pencil from the step where Annabeth had set it after drawing the play. On a blank piece of paper, he wrote, “Property of Annabeth Chase and Perseus Jackson.”

“Oh, full name,” Annabeth remarked. “It’s serious.”

“Very serious,” Percy said, attempting to make a stern face. He drew a pretty poor imitation of a football above their names.

They continued running and recording plays until their legs ached from running back and forth and their lungs burned from laughter. When they’d had enough, they returned to the house, bursting into the kitchen covered in grass stains. Percy’s mom didn’t look too surprised.

“We really committed to tackling the other team,” Annabeth said, but Mrs. Jackson waved the explanation away.

“That’s pretty normal in our home,” she said with a chuckle. Percy looked away, smirking.

Annabeth followed him to the sink, where they washed their hands, and then to the stools at the kitchen island, where they sat and munched on bowls of freshly rinsed fruit. “Eat fast,” said Percy earnestly. “I want to show you my fort in the woods.”

Once they had snarfed down the last of the grapes, satisfying their ravenous appetites, they headed back outside. Annabeth led the way out onto the porch and down the stairs this time, eagerly anticipating the next activity. “So, where’s this mysterious fort?” she questioned.

“Follow me,” Percy instructed. “I made it last summer, took forever. You’re gonna love it.” He wound a path through the woods just beyond his backyard. They approached a pile of downed trees, their branches intertwining. “I present to you, Fort Jackson!”

Annabeth took in the sight. In the middle of the pile of thin trees, there was a clearly worn trail. The branches had been pushed aside and arranged to create a walkway into the center of the heap, which had been hollowed out. Annabeth stepped forward, exploring the area. It was small, but Percy had personalized it with stump-like pieces of wood for seats and scraps of trash he’d probably picked up around the woods for decoration. A broken glass jar was filled with acorns, and Annabeth spied a collection of leaves of various shapes. But the most enticing part of the place was the swing.

Percy had tied a rope to a sturdy branch that extended from a tree towering above them. The rope went through the center of a circular plastic seat that hung down in the entrance to the fort. Annabeth could tell it was well-loved as the once-yellow seat was brown with dirt.

“Make yourself at home,” Percy said, gesturing around the makeshift room.

“Can I try the swing?” asked Annabeth.

Percy stepped aside and held out his arms ceremoniously. “Step right up,” he said, and took a seat on one of the stumps. Annabeth swung one leg over the seat of the swing. She leaned back on her other leg, gathering momentum before pushing off and launching herself forward. As she did this, she pulled her second leg onto the seat. She swung forward toward the path leading out of the fort, her momentum carrying her back inside and then forward again. While the swing was moving back and forth, the rope also spun the seat around. Annabeth was now facing Percy, beaming at him as the exhilaration from the swinging brought a laugh bubbling up from her chest.

Once the swing slowed down, Annabeth slid off the plastic seat, stumbling backward for a moment as she regained her balance. “Fun, right?” Percy remarked.

“Very!” exclaimed Annabeth, catching her breath. “Your turn?”

“You can go again if you want,” Percy said, shy for a moment.

Annabeth broke into a wide grin again. “Thanks!” Percy smiled back at her.

As the two of them played in the fort, collecting more items for Percy’s decorations and pruning the walls of sticks, they hardly noticed the sun’s descent in the sky. The darkening of the world around them was so gradual that it barely registered to their eyes. When they returned to the house for a change of activity, they were shocked to find that it was already dinnertime. Annabeth used the house phone to call home and ask if she could stay for dinner, but she was told to return home immediately.

Annabeth stood in the door frame, peering out into the dusk. She knew it would remain light enough for her walk home since the sun wouldn’t set for a while still, but she found herself hesitant to leave nevertheless. She turned around to say goodbye to Percy. He stood just behind her, holding the door open with a resigned look on his face.

“So I guess I’ll see you in a couple weeks,” said Percy unhappily.

Annabeth shrugged. “I guess. Well, thanks for inviting me over.”

“Yeah,” came the response. “And I mean, we can still email before school starts.”

“Definitely,” Annabeth agreed quickly.

There was a pause. Percy and Annabeth looked at each other, awkward again, neither one knowing how to end the exchange. Finally Annabeth turned to go. “Bye, Percy.”

“Bye, Annabeth.”

Annabeth walked down the path and into the driveway before she heard the door shut behind her. When she reached the road, she looked back at the home where she’d spent her afternoon. The tan house, which had been glowing in the sun earlier in the day, now faded into the background of trees. Despite the fact that it didn’t stand out from the landscape so much anymore, Annabeth still saw it as a kind of haven.

As she proceeded back through the neighborhood, Annabeth reflected on her friendship with Percy. The afternoon had proven that they fit together even when off the school bus. She was now anticipating the upcoming school year with even more delight. Not only would she get to see Percy on the bus every day, but she would also get to spend time with him in class.

Annabeth looked right and then left, repeating her procedure from earlier in the day. She crossed the street back to the sidewalk, again without encountering any cars. Before she continued her walk home, Annabeth paused to look back at the neighborhood she’d just come from. It felt odd to know that she’d now seen beyond the Fabled Oaks sign. It was no longer just a landmark; the sign now signaled a place where she felt welcome.

~ present day ~

Annabeth gazed at the sign across the street from her. Fabled Oaks. She thought that if she entered that neighborhood today she would feel woefully out of place. It had been a long time since Percy shut her out of his life. Annabeth missed the days when life was full of moments like that summer afternoon she’d spent in Percy’s backyard. She missed the wonder and excitement of blossoming friendship. What was between her and Percy now was more like a shriveled, neglected plant.

With the sun still shining above her, Annabeth pulled herself away from the neighborhood. She continued her walk down the hill, the park in sight just ten minutes ahead of her. But she had to admit to herself that the stroll she had intended to clear her head seemed to have done the opposite as her mind was filled with memories of happier days.

#annabeth chase #percabeth #percy jackson #pjo #high school #percy and annabeth #flashback #au

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somegirlsnerdywords2 · 4 months

Text

Top Anime 2023

My New Boss is Goofy (Rating: 9.5/10 - 12 episodes - Fall 2023)

Genres: Slice of life, Drama, Workplace

Synopsis: Momose, a 26-year-old office worker, recently changed jobs after being harassed by his former boss. He is concerned that his new boss will also use power harassment to make his life miserable. Momose tries to hide his concern about facing a similar situation with his new boss, Shirosaki. To Momose's surprise, however, Shirosaki's inherent airheadedness immediately alleviates all of his concerns, giving him a sense of relief.

(Source: MAL News)

2. Hell's Paradise (Rating: 9/10 - 12 episodes - Spring 2023)

Genres: Action, Adventure, Fantasy, Historical, Shounen

Synopsis: Sentenced to death, ninja Gabimaru the Hollow finds himself apathetic. After leading a blood-soaked life, Gabimaru believes he deserves to die. However, every attempt to execute him inexplicably fails. Finally, Sagiri Yamada Asaemon, a fledgling member of a famed executioner clan, is asked to take Gabimaru's life; yet Sagiri makes no move to kill him as requested.

Insisting that Gabimaru will not die because of his love for his wife, Sagiri instead offers him the chance to obtain a full pardon for his crimes. If he can travel to the island of Shinsekyo and obtain the Elixir of Life—which supposedly grants immortality—and bring it back for the shogun, then his freedom will be assured.

But of the many who have traveled to Shinsekyo in search of the mythical Elixir, not a single person has returned sound of mind, if at all. Though unaware of the numerous dangers ahead, Gabimaru decides to accept the offer—alongside ten other death row convicts—in hope that he and his wife may finally live in peace.

[Written by MAL Rewrite]

3. Sugar Apple Fairy Tale Part 1 & 2 (Rating: 9/10 - 12 Episodes each - Winter 2023/Summer 2023)

Genres: Adventure, Drama, Fantasy, Romance, Shoujo

Synopsis: In the kingdom of Highland, fairies lived freely until humans betrayed them. Once a fairy has been stripped of a wing, whoever possesses it holds the fairy's life in their hands. Taking advantage of this, humans enslaved fairies, but 15-year-old Ann Halford longs to see the day when fairies and humans are treated as equals.

The aspiring confectioner dreams of becoming a Silver Sugar Master just like her late mother. In order to achieve this lofty goal, Ann sets out for the capital of Lewiston, home to the annual Royal Candy Fair. However, to be bestowed the elusive title, Ann's confection crafted from silver sugar must be recognized with a royal medal at the event.

Ann hires a sharp-tongued warrior fairy, Shall Fen Shall, to be her bodyguard for the perilous journey ahead. After saving him from his cruel fairy trader, she promises to return Shall's wing to him once they reach the capital, much to his confusion. But as the pair travel further along, the time they spend together grows, and they learn more about each other and their true desires.

[Written by MAL Rewrite]

4. Jujutsu Kaisen 2nd Season (Rating: 9/10 - 23 episodes - Summer 2023)

Genres: Action, Fantasy, Shounen

Synopsis: The year is 2006, and the halls of Tokyo Prefectural Jujutsu High School echo with the endless bickering and intense debate between two inseparable best friends. Exuding unshakeable confidence, Satoru Gojou and Suguru Getou believe there is no challenge too great for young and powerful Special Grade sorcerers such as themselves. They are tasked with safely delivering a sensible girl named Riko Amanai to the entity whose existence is the very essence of the jujutsu world. However, the mission plunges them into an exhausting swirl of moral conflict that threatens to destroy the already feeble amity between sorcerers and ordinary humans.

Twelve years later, students and sorcerers are the frontline defense against the rising number of high-level curses born from humans' negative emotions. As the entities grow in power, their self-awareness and ambition increase too. The curses unite for the common goal of eradicating humans and creating a world of only cursed energy users, led by a dangerous, ancient cursed spirit. To dispose of their greatest obstacle—the strongest sorcerer, Gojou—they orchestrate an attack at Shibuya Station on Halloween. Dividing into teams, the sorcerers enter the fight prepared to risk everything to protect the innocent and their own kind.

[Written by MAL Rewrite]

5. Demon Slayer: Swordsmith Village Arc (Rating: 9/10 - 11 Episodes - Spring 2023)

Genres: Action, Fantasy, Historical, Shounen

Synopsis: For centuries, the Demon Slayer Corps has sacredly kept the location of Swordsmith Village a secret. As the village of the greatest forgers, it provides Demon Slayers with the finest weapons, which allow them to fight night-crawling fiends and ensure the safety of humans. After his sword was chipped and deemed useless, Tanjirou Kamado, along with his precious little sister Nezuko, is escorted to the village to receive a new one.

Meanwhile, the death of an Upper Rank Demon disturbs the idle order in the demon world. As Tanjirou becomes acquainted with Mist Hashira Muichirou Tokitou and Love Hashira Mitsuri Kanroji, ferocious powers creep from the shadows and threaten to shatter the Demon Slayers' greatest line of defense.

[Written by MAL Rewrite]

Honourable Mentions: Buddy Daddies & My Love Story with Yamada-kun at Lv999

#Top Anime 2023 #Hell's paradise #anime #Nerdywords year end lists #sugar apple fairy tale #demon slayer: swordsmith village arc #my love story with yamada kun at lv999 #buddy daddies #my new boss is goofy

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z-mizcellaneous-z · 1 year

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I'm also curious abt u so I AM HERE for the ask game <3

🐰 What do you think says the most about a person? 🦋 Describe yourself in three words. 🐸 Describe your aesthetic. 🌸 Best compliment you ever received? 📷 What’s set as your phone’s lockscreen?

🐰 What do you think says the most about a person?

I'd say how they talk about people they know. If I get to know someone and all they do is shit talk about people I've seen them interact with (and they look like they get along a lot), that raises a bunch of red flags for me. Also, how someone treats/talks about strangers/customer service workers (waiters, cashiers, etc). It says a lot to me about their character depending on how they treat/interact with them.

🦋 Describe yourself in three words.

Funny, loud, traumatized. Some of my friends/mutuals here would probably add sadist onto the list, but I digress.

🐸 Describe your aesthetic.

I'm gonna answer this assuming it means aesthetic in terms of clothing. In the spring/summer, I'd say it leans towards streetwear and cottagecore. In the fall, I mostly go streetwear and normcore. In the winter I dress purely for comfort. Does that mean I look cute? Does that mean I look like a homeless middle school boy? You'll never know.

🌸 Best compliment you ever received?

So in case you didn't know, I'm currently writing a BkDk/DkBk fic called Your Hand In Mine. The entire thing is in Izuku's POV, and seeing as this is my first multichapter work written in Izuku's POV, I've been very unsure/insecure/not confident in my characterization of him as well as writing his angst. Then this one time a friend/mutual of mine (hi @legendzjagz love ya /p) mentioned that she recommended this fic to a friend of hers who had joined MHA and BkDk pretty recently and they said this about the fic:

Seeing as I am very new to fan fiction writing (like, "I wrote my very first fanfic in late 2022" new), any compliments to my writing make me crash /pos

📷 What’s set as your phone’s lockscreen?

For a really long time my lock screen would just be the one of the most recent Bakugo artwork that @nuppu-nuppu posted, and this still stands for my phone home screen (nuppu if you see this HI HEY HELLO I LOVE YOUR KACCHANS SO MUCH THEY BRING ME SO MUCH JOY <3 /p /gen).

My lock screen, however, is this Horikoshi sketch:

------------------

Emoji Ask Game

#asks #asks game #answered asks #ask #answered ask #emoji ask game #emoji asks game #mutuals #moots #mutuals my beloveds <33 #bkdk #bakudeku #nuppu's art #horikoshi sketches #bkdk horikoshi sketches #mha #bnha #my hero academia #mizismiz

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careforcritters · 8 months

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Vet Med in Warrior Cats: Reproduction and Theriogenology

Disclaimer

Additional disclaimer for this one: I fully understand why a lot of these issues were not addressed in the series since it is written for children, but I still think the topic is interesting and that some concepts, especially those involving kitting, could have been more accurate.

Cats are seasonally polyestrous long day breeders, meaning that the females only cycle reproductively in the spring and experience multiple heat cycles every breeding cycle. Estrous cycles occur when the females are exposed to over 14 hours of light every day, so depending on the climate that they are in, cats are only able to become pregnant in the spring and fall. A queen’s gestation period (the time that they spend pregnant) is 2 months, so queens can have their kits from about late spring to early fall. The location of warriors is never confirmed, but it is presumed to be in England or the UK since that is where the authors are based, and since it snows every winter. With a colder, darker climate, this breeding season is even shorter. Queens in warriors are shown to have their kits at any time of year, even in the dead of winter. It is possible for some females, especially short haired breeds, to be able to cycle year-round, but not common. Narratively it makes sense to spread the litters out, but realistically the clans would have most of their kittens in the summer and fall.

Cats are also induced ovulators, which means that ovulation is triggered by and occurs about 24-48 hours after mating. Females need to be in estrus to allow mating, but the induced ovulation makes it very likely that pregnancy will result from mating. Females may also mate with multiple males over the span of a few days, meaning that one litter can have multiple fathers. This is not something we would see in warriors since there is an unspoken societal standard of monogamy.

Pregnant cats require almost double their normal nutrient intake in the second half of gestation, and even more while nursing. Taurine deficiency can cause pregnancy loss, as well as malnutrition in general. It would not be uncommon for a queen to lose her pregnancy if prey is scarce in her clan. There are several infectious causes of pregnancy loss, including feline herpes, FIV, FIP, feline panleukemia, toxoplasma gondii, and other bacterial infections of the reproductive tract. Many of these diseases, especially feline herpesvirus, are extremely common in feral cat populations. Early, undetected embryonic loss from these diseases could be a reason for why female cats in warriors are not pregnant as often as real life feral cats, but that is unlikely. Cats in warriors seem to be able to plan when they become pregnant (except when it's a secret forbidden romance of course), and I have no explanation for why that could be. Unless the medicine cats discovered an herb that can act as contraception (progestagens, dexamethasone (a gluccocorticoid) and dopamine agonists can all be used in companion animals as temporary contraception, but they all have moderate systemic side effects).

At the start of parturition (birthing), queens become restless, pace, and nest. Once uterine contractions begin, the “water breaks” and a kitten should be delivered every 3 to 5 minutes. This entire process can take anywhere from 4 to 42 hours, with the average being about 16 hours. It’s unclear how much time the birthing process takes in warrior cats, but it usually seems to be much faster than this. In Bluestar’s Prophecy, when Leopardfoot has been kitting for “most of the afternoon” and then into the night, this is implied to be an abnormally long amount of time.

Dystocia (complications with pregnancy) are pretty rare in cats. The most common cause is primary uterine inertia, which is when the queen is unable to begin uterine contractions. This would be treated with oxytocin in a veterinary clinic to induce contractions. Borage is stated to be used to help with milk let down and may work to stimulate oxytocin since oxytocin is also used to stimulate milk letdown. The other common causes of dystocia are uterine torsion and oversized fetuses, both of which would require a C-section to correct.

When Sorreltail is kitting in The Forgotten Warrior, she is described to be in pain and having trouble passing the kits. Jayfeather gives her chervil root to help, so it is implied to be either something to give Sorreltail strength or to help with uterine contractions. Several sources said that chervil can be useful for cough, eczema, and even abscesses, but there was no indication that it could be useful during childbirth.

Leopardfoot is also described to have a long, painful kitting in Bluestar’s Prophecy. Featherwhisker gives her raspberry leaves. Raspberry leaves have been shown to benefit with strengthening uterine tone and facilitating contractions, so this herb would be more useful than chervil root. Two of Leopardfoot’s kits die young because she kitted two weeks too early. This is called “fading” and occurs because the kits were not able to thermoregulate or breathe properly. Premature kits are less likely to be developed properly, and may be lacking in reflexes such as suckling that would have helped them to acquire sufficient nutrients and immune-boosting milk (colostrum).

In Crookedstar’s Promise, Brightsky delivered 3 stillborn kits followed by one surviving kit, and then died. Brightsky had been sick not long before her kitting and was described to still be weak from her illness. Brightsky likely was sick with a virus that causes late term abortion, like herpes, FIV, or panleukemia. While it is possible for a cat to abort some fetuses and still deliver other fetuses to term, it’s not common, especially this late into the pregnancy. I honestly was not able to find the most concrete information on this, but it is feasible for Leapordkit to have survived. As for Brightsky, she likely died because the three stillborn fetuses mummified inside of her, causing her to develop an infection. If this were true, she would have had dark or purulent vaginal discharge and had abdominal pain even before her kitting.

Silverstream also died from dystocia after delivering her kits in Forest of Secrets. She is described to have powerful spasms that slowly got weaker, which sounds like secondary uterine inertia (when the queen is too exhausted to continue contractions). Since she only had two small kits and fetal malpositioning is rare in cats, there might have been some sort of obstruction to the birth canal. In later books, Silverstream was described to have been “blood soaked”. Possible causes of hemorrhage during birthing could be uterine vessel tearing, uterine rupture, or uterine torsion. Uterine torsion would cause an obstruction to the birth canal and would require emergency surgery. The likelihood of Featherkit and Stormkit surviving would have been very low without the ability to intervene and there are no reported cases of a uterine torsion resolving without surgery. It is most likely that Silverstream experienced uterine rupture due to the stress of contractions.

There are several other common reproductive issues that do not appear in warriors. Mammary hyperplasia is the spontaneous overgrowth of mammary tissue in intact female (and sometimes male) cats. This condition usually spontaneously regresses, but it can be confused with mammary neoplasia. Mastitis is the bacterial infection of mammary glands after parturition. This condition is not only painful and dangerous for the queen, but can cause the kits to fail to thrive. This would be treated with antibiotics, warm compresses, and milk replacer for the kittens in a veterinary clinic. Cystic endometrial hyperplasia is a degenerative condition mediated by a hormone called progesterone. Too much progesterone causes the endometrial glands to proliferate and over-secrete hormones, making the uterus an ideal environment for bacteria and leading to pyometra (bacterial infection of the uterus). Depending on if the cervix is open or closed, the queen will either have purulent vaginal discharge or the pus will build up in the uterus. While a closed cervix is more dangerous, both will cause the cat to feel extremely sick, vomit, run a fever, and experience renal dysfunction. A pyometra can quickly develop into a systemic condition, so emergency ovariohysterectomy is required to save the cat's life.

Sources:

BSVA Manual of Canine and Feline Reproduction and Neonatology. Gary England and A. von Heimendahl, 2nd Ed, 2011

L. Ari Jutkowitz, Reproductive emergencies, Veterinary Clinics of North America: Small Animal Practice, Volume 35, Issue 2, 2005

https://journals.sagepub.com/doi/pdf/10.1177/2055116917726228

https://www.merckvetmanual.com/reproductive-system/reproductive-diseases-of-the-female-small-animal/dystocia-in-small-animals

https://www.rxlist.com/chervil/supplements.htm

https://healthyfocus.org/health-benefits-of-chervil/

https://www.bbcgoodfood.com/howto/guide/top-9-health-benefits-of-raspberry-leaf-tea

#I have a therio test tomorrow and spent almost 4 hours on this because priorities right?#vet med #vet med in warrior cats #warrior cats #warriors

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chimaerakitten · 2 years

Photo

I'm neck deep in writing a big Castlevania fic, one of the kind that requires keeping track of all sorts of timeline and geographical details. Since I haven’t come across a real solid series timeline anywhere I figured I’d distill my notes into a couple of usable graphics as a form of procrastinating the next chapter. text version and explanations under the cut

(PS: if you have/know of a better timeline, please direct me to it, I would love to check my work)

The full timeline of canon is pretty easy and I wouldn’t have even bothered to make it if I didn’t have to track a bunch of pre-canon elements for the fic.

dates and explanations, full timeline:

1455: Lisa meets Dracula. This one is easy because there’s a timestamp on the screen. 100% established

1456: Vlad III invades Wallachia with Hungarian support and was voivode of Wallachia by September 10th. This is an IRL event for context that may or may not have happened in the show.

1457: Adrian Born (probably). This is my first educated guess. We don’t know when in 1455 Lisa and Dracula met nor how long it took them to get married. Depending on those two factors he could have been born in 1456, but it makes more sense to me if there’s some padding built in here. This makes him 18 at the time of Lisa’s death and 19 for most of canon

skipping all the way down to:

1462: Vlad III goes to war with the Ottomans (spring and summer) ends with 2o thousand impaled corpses, Radu on the throne, and Vlad in exile. Another IRL event. moving on.

1465: Fall of House Belmont probably happens here or earlier. This is even more guess-ey than the first educated guess. It relies on a couple of assumptions: 1. that the last number Trevor gives—12—is the truth about how old he was when this happens. 2. Trevor is >20 in the show. I think I heard somewhere that he’s supposed to be 20 in the games, but his VA and visual design don’t give me the impression that’s supposed to be the case in show canon, so I'm treating him as >20. 1465 for this event would make him 23/24 in the show which is on the younger end of the age range that makes sense for him. But really this event could be several years before 1465 or even a year or two after.

1475: Lisa dies (January) there’s a timestamp for this one

1476: Events in Gresit (February) my reasoning for this guesstimate will be in the next section.

1476: End of Series (July) same as above

dates and explanations, 1476:

Late January: Târgoviste falls, the night hordes start sweeping the countryside. This is definitely in January (1 year to the day after Lisa died). I’m putting it in late January because Lisa said Dracula would be home “before winter’s done” and then Dracula arrived the next morning (the house was still smoking) so presumably they were well on their way into winter by then, because even if Lisa wasn’t sure when Dracula would be back, “before winter’s done” implies not right at the start of winter.

Mid to late February: Events in Gresit. (My best guess) Everyone in Wallachian seems to be like...aware of the horde of monsters, even in places that haven’t themselves been attacked, and news takes time to travel in 1476. So I thought ~3ish weeks was a good minimum amount of time to have passed since the last event. There’s still snow on the ground and there will continue to be well into season 3, so no more than a month or two can have passed since late January.

Early to mid March: The trio reach the Belmont estate. Ok this one is geography based conjecture. Through a great deal of google maps and a process of elimination of places named Danesti, I’ve deduced that the Belmont estate is probably in the Carpathians north of Târgu Jiu, which is about 2 weeks by wagon/foot in winter from the Carpathians north of Curtea de Argeş, which is my best guess for Gresit’s location. So basically, two weeks pass for travel time.

Mid to late March: Dracula dies. Show is unclear on how much time passes between the trio reaching the hold and figuring everything out. we know it’s at least a couple days but it could easily be longer. Considering how much stuff the villain squad gets up to in the interim I threw a dart at a board and decided on a week or so.

Mid to late April: Trevor and Sypha reach Lindenfeld. This one’s easy—one month after the previous event

Late April: Lindenfeld burns. this one was hard. It doesn’t seem like Trevor and Sypha were in Lindenfeld that long, but the other storylines running concurrently seem like they’d take longer—Isaac does a lot of traveling, for one. In the end, I just went with my gut on the Trevor and Sypha timeline and shrugged about the others—it’s possible that we’re being shown the events concurrently but they’re not all happening at precisely the same time, or something. Also the continued snow in evidence alongside what looks like spring flowers tells me we haven’t spent multiple months in season 3 at least.

Late May: Sypha’s outburst in the field. (She’s probably pregnant by this point.) an easy 4 weeks after the end of season 3. There’s a timestamp. Note on pregnancy there because if she’s certain she’s pregnant by the end of the series she’d probably missed more than one period by then.

Mid June: Trevor and Sypha arrive in Târgoviste. timestamped two weeks after the last event.

Mid to late June: Assult on the castle. This is another “different storylines imply different passages of time” thing. Going with Trevor and Sypha again, they just don’t seem like they've been in Târgoviste more than a week or so by the time they leave. But it’s also obviously been more than a single day or two days.

Early to Mid July: Trevor returns. End of series, conveniently timestamped 2 weeks after the previous event. Also conveniently geographically coherent, it’s about 24 solid walking hours from the nearest point on the Danube to where I've guessed the Belmont estate is. Considering we don’t know whether Trevor was dropped at that nearest point or somewhere significantly farther and he was like, super injured, it could easily take him 2 weeks to get back.

If I made any mistakes, please let me know!

#Castlevania #productive procrastination!#timeline #castlevania netflix #please do tell me if I made an error somewhere or my logic is flawed

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northflorida1 · 1 month

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A Guide to Planting Elderberry Cuttings for a Thriving Garden

Are you looking to enhance your garden with the delightful addition of elderberries? Planting elderberry cuttings can be a rewarding experience, offering not only beautiful foliage but also delicious and nutritious berries. In this comprehensive guide, we'll walk you through the steps of planting elderberry cuttings to ensure a successful and thriving garden.

Choosing the Right Cuttings:

The first step in planting elderberry cuttings is to choose the right ones. Opt for healthy, disease-free cuttings from reputable sources like North Florida Elderberry. Look for cuttings with at least two nodes and a length of around 12 to 18 inches for optimal growth.

Preparing the Planting Site:

Elderberries thrive in well-drained soil with full sun exposure. Prepare the planting site by clearing any weeds or debris and amending the soil with organic matter like compost to improve drainage and fertility. Ensure that the site has sufficient space for the elderberry bushes to grow and spread.

Planting the Cuttings:

Timing: The best time to plant elderberry cuttings is in late winter or early spring when the soil is workable and temperatures are cool.

Preparing the Cuttings: Trim any damaged or excess growth from the cuttings, leaving only healthy stems with two to three buds.

Planting Depth: Dig a hole deep enough to accommodate the cutting's roots, typically around 8 to 10 inches deep.

Placement: Place the cutting in the hole with the top bud just above the soil level.

Spacing: Space multiple cuttings at least 4 to 6 feet apart to allow for proper growth and air circulation.

Watering: Water the cuttings thoroughly after planting to settle the soil and provide moisture to the roots.

Care and Maintenance:

Once planted, elderberry cuttings require regular care to ensure healthy growth and abundant fruiting:

Watering: Keep the soil consistently moist, especially during dry periods, but avoid waterlogging.

Fertilization: Apply a balanced fertilizer in early spring and again in midsummer to promote healthy growth.

Pruning: Prune elderberry bushes annually in late winter to remove old or damaged branches and encourage new growth.

Mulching: Mulch around the base of the plants to conserve moisture, suppress weeds, and provide nutrients as it breaks down.

Pest and Disease Control: Monitor for pests like aphids and diseases like powdery mildew, treating as needed with organic solutions.

Harvesting Elderberries:

With proper care, your elderberry bushes will reward you with clusters of ripe, dark purple berries in late summer to early fall. Harvest the berries when they are fully ripe but still firm, and use them fresh or preserve them for future use in jams, syrups, or elderberry wine.

By following these steps for Planting elderberry cuttings and providing ongoing care, you can enjoy a bountiful harvest of delicious elderberries while adding beauty and biodiversity to your garden. Happy planting!

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chromatophorium · 3 months

Text

Psycological-ish eldritch(?) horror concept under cut. (Was dissatisfied with the horror content I have watched recently* and decided to put like a combination of ideas I Iike into a blender here to create something cool-ish)

(tense? what tense? What are you talking about??? pfft...)

Right. So a Swedish village. Pretty out there in the woods. Only has one small convenience store that also works as a post office. Protag comes there with their partner to visit their partners parents and stay there on vacation for a week, camping and stuff, getting away from the city stress.

First they go to the partner's parent's house. When the protag's partner introduces them to their parents in person (they have seen each other on like the partners weekly video calls to them before) the elderly parents were surprised that they came so early in the summer, "it's so close to the beginning of June! You could have come later in the month, for midsummer you know. We would have loved to have you two here over midsummer. The whole village gets together to celebrate, something you may have not seen before, protag, since you grew up in the city. And so far north too! You have a different midsummer pole up there, don't you?" and they go on a bit about different traditions.

Then the partner says that the two couldn't get any vacation days around midsummer, since at their jobs people with children often really want the days around midsummer and they took the fall of having two separate vacation spans in the beginning and end of the summer this year. "And it works out pretty well, since we have enough travel time to see the village birthday like this! I haven't been here for your birthday celebration in ages dad, I miss it!"

The protag asks what that is about. "'The village birthday'? Did the village get founded on the same day as your birth or something?" The partners dad shakes his head and laughs it off, maybe a bit too forcefully. "No, no. We're just a tightly knit community, so we do a bit of a collective birthday party for the people born in early summer. We do it early in the summer to not clash with midsummer, you know. And one later for the late summer kids. Same thing with the winter birthdays, we celebrate them early to not clash with christmas, and in spring before Easter. The fall birthdays get a bit split up, but in the last years we've been doing a thing on the 31st October for them, with a spooky theme. The kids around here love it, it means they can celebrate halloween here too. Before they had to drive into the city to do trick-or-treating, but now they can do it here."

The protag is like "Wow, that really is a tight knit community." Then they talk some more and stuff. And then the parents go like, "ah we gotta prepare dinner." turn to partner "why don't you go show protag around while we do? It'll probably be done in just about an hour, so you two go enjoy yourselves." and partner goes "Yeah, that sound good, right?" Protag agrees and they go outside. Just when they're about to go the mom comes out and asks the partner if they can just come help with something really quick in their old room, which is now the guest room. The partner agrees and tells the protag to hold on.

So the protag is left standing outside, looking around. They look around at the nature and the houses. There are some houses, most of them are wooden, painted the classical red with white corners, but some are more yellow with white corners and two-three more modern ones with stucco exterior. Some have old barns next to them, but most are just well maintained lawns and such. You can't see far beyond them because the land is flat. One can tell that there is some open more open space to the south and west, but otherwise the conifer trees grow tall right by the border of the gardens.

The protag sees some garden birds fly up toward the top of the trees and follows their journey up. Their partner is still not there, even though it's been a minute. The protag isn't worried though, their gaze stays on the top of the trees where the birds flew. Soon, they see the birds fly the east, almost hopping from tree top to tree top. Their follow their journey once again with their gaze.

But as they start to veer north east on the trees that border the city, the protagonists eyes catch on something... something. They can't really tell what it is, something in-between the gaps of just the tippy-tops of the trees.

They squint.

The birds move on, continuing to circle the town from the tops of the trees and eventually flying down, presumably to another garden. But the protag doesn't see that. They keep staring at that one spot.

Above and between the tops of a handful of trees, in the gaps where the sky should be- no is visible, there is something. The edges of some... you couldn't call it a building, could you? No. There was too little visible to make out what it was. The only thing visibly different to the other gaps between the trees was... Was what? Wait, what was different about that spot of sky behind those particular trees? It just looked like sky. It was just sky. Right?

Yeah, it had to be. It looked no different that any other parts of spikey peaks of conifer tips bordering the sky. There was nothing there.

But why did their eyes always catch there when sweeping over the high horizon...?

The protag was startled out of their thoughts by their partner putting an arm around them ans asking them if they were ready to go. Protag puts it out of their mind and says yeah.

The two walk and their partner introduces them to all the neighbors they meet on their way. The little time the protag thought it would take to get back to the main road from where they came is gradually lengthened to a whole 20 minutes with all the small talk and introductions. The neighbors are all pleasant and happy to see partner back in town and are happy to see the person that they have heard the mother and father talk about.

They eventually make it to the village center, where the main road runs through. On the opposite of the road, there are the only two light up signs in the whole village. One for the unmanned gasstation and the other for the convenience store/post office, the only real reasons to ever stop in the village, if you do not live here.

There are two main crosswalks made into speed bumps to slow down the occasional cars that pass through about once every five minutes.

On the side of the main road closer to the parents house there is a playground and a kind of big paved open space that looks perfect for a small farmers market. A part of it that borders a long one-story building has roof over the paved area with benches and picknic tables. The partner points the building and the plaza out and says that's where they'll celebrate the village birthday in a week. Then they point to the west and say that over there is the old Fredrikssons garden, where they put up the midsummer pole.

Out further west and south west, there are some different agricultural fields, but otherwise the little village is tightly closed in by the conifer trees.

As they go past the playground they see three children playing there with a heavily pregnant woman watching after them. She waves at the two and greets them. The partner introduces the protag to her the same as she does everyone, and it goes as smoothly as the other times. When they get on the topic of the pregnancy the partner asks how long it's gonna be until birth, the woman answers that they're not sure yet, maybe before midsummer or maybe later. She would want to be able to really celebrate and dance on midsummer with her grandmother, since this might be her last, but... Then the topic turns to the grandmother instead and how she's doing and if they're going to want any help doing something for her midsummer. The woman thanks her for their concern but they don't know yet, and if they need help they're sure the village will do their best and asks if the two are planing to stay until midsummer and the chat turns into pleasantries once again.

Then the woman says it's about time for her and the kids to go, to which the kids are a bit sad. One of the kids says they want to go back after dinner. The woman says that the kid's parents wanted them back for dinner at their own home for once this week, they can play more tomorrow. The kids sigh but then accept. The one kid waves goodbye to the other two and runs off to the west, while the woman and the other two walk across the road to the north.

The protag and their partner decide to go the convenience store/post office to show 'the real gathering place of the village'. They walk in and meet plenty of people there, not only the two owners/employees but others there to shop and hang out. It's all more pleasantries and niceties that the protagonist feels a bit left out of because they don't know the inside jokes.

Before they leave one of the owners asks if they need to buy any more birthday preparations now that the protagonist is here. The partner answers and says that they probably have everything they need already, but they'll check with their parents and thanks for reminding them. Then the two leave.

The partner sees that the protagonist is pretty exhausted from all the talking with what are strangers to them and suggest they walk out to the water tower, it's probably pretty chill around there. The protagonist immediately whips their head in the direction of the weird something or nothing in the gaps of the trees they noticed before.

The partner says like "Oh? You've already noticed it, huh? Yep. That's the water tower."

The protag is a bit weirded out but says "Yeah, I think I saw it through the trees before, but didn't know what it was. When I heard you say there was a water tower here, the pieces just snapped into place..."

The partner "Mhm, yeah. It's like the only other thing to see around here, so when we've seen it you've seen all of the village. C'mon, I think we can get there and back to my parents place by the time they're done with dinner."

The protag agrees and the two go down a road that leads to the water tower. The protag keeps looking up at the gaps in the trees, expecting to see the exterior of some brick or cement building as they get closer, but find themselves only seeing sky or just more forest. But they still feel like there is something there, but they don't really see it.

When they cross the border into the forest onto a path that leads straight north east the protag expects to catch sight of it, but doesn't and does. They joke "Haha, the water tower near where I grew up was always getting filled up with graffiti art pieces, you guys must have landscape painters as vandals instead of gangster wannabee's." The partner doesn't catch their joke and only hums questioningly. The protag continues awkwardly "I mean with how much it blends in with its surroundings, it's gotta have been painted camo or something. We should have caught sight of it by now, right? It's as tall as the trees..." The partner answers simply "We don't have any vandals around here. We'll be there soon, just hold on a bit." They grab the protags hand and leads them further down the path. The protag stays silent the rest of the way. Their partner does too.

The path is still straight, but it stops as they arrive in a clearing. In the clearings middle the ground dips down one or two meters.

They approach the dip and in its exact center is the water tower.

Its handhewn stone brick walls stand at an impressive circa half a meter tall, and its roof is open to let it be filled easily. With its about one meter diameter it looked like it could hold almost infinite amounts of water. The protagonist stood there looking up- down? into the water storage tank. It's dark. You can't see the bottom of it. Not even the surface of the water. It's...

The protag looks up- down? At the sky above the water tower. Nothing. Just sky, slowly darkening sky. Or something? Somethings up- down? there. Or...?

The protagonist reaches above- below- into- above- below- into- No. No, their hand. Is. No. It looks like and it feels like it's ABOVE the tall walls of the water tower.

They are holding their hand at a 90 degree angle above the water tower. There is nothing there. Just air. It feels like just air. They wiggle their fingers. Just air. They move their hand further up, arm at a 140 degrees, and move their forearm around. Just air. They move it lower, 45 degrees, wiggle it around. Nothing. Just air.

They move their hand away. They say "W-"

They say nothing. Their partner has their hand on their mouth that was jus about to speak. Their partner looks them in the eyes and shakes their head.

No.

The protag slowly puts their hand over their partners, to show understanding. They use their other to point out of the dip.

...When had they gone down it? They could have fallen up- down? into. Into the tall wall of the water tower. Why had they not been careful?

Their partner slipped their hand out from under their own. They used it to point out of the dip too, and nodded.

Their trek up the wet slippery moss of the slope was slow. They stayed silent as they walked down the straight path to the southwest.

When they finally crossed the border, from the realm of the tall conifer trees into the village proper, the protagonist spoke up. "What was that?"

Their partner answered "The water tower."

"I know that, but why was it- Why did it look like that?"

"...I don't know. It's the water tower."

"But it's so- It's tall, yes, but just... so tall but- It's half a meter tall. Why could I see it from your house?"

"It's tall."

"I know, but why could I reach- reach- reach--- Why could I reach --- The word, it's... The word I mean is a bit like beside but on the, you know, the thing that is not horisontal?"

"I don't know. I don't know what's up with that."

"Up, yes. Beside but... No it wasn't up, right? It couldn't be..."

"I don't know. It was chill place though, wasn't it?"

"...I guess it wasn't not chill!?!? What the fuck? And why wasn't I supposed to spe-"

"Shh. The village could hear you."

The protag shuts up.

"Let's just head home, alright? If we jog a bit we'll make it there before dark."

Then they head home, have a nice dinner and shit and niceties. They don't bring it up.

Anyway a few days later it's the first monday of june and they wake up hearing a siren sound that is seven seconds long and has a fourteen second pause and then repeats is heard. But not through the normal way, of air vibrations affecting the eardrum and all that stuff, but through bone conduction and vibrations in the ground.

Then during that day shit goes down and stuff. The woman that's pregnant births her child, and it can't stop screaming. Maybe the protag tries to leave by the main road and then appears at the other side of the village. Uhm.

Birthday celebrations are held and people are happy, they stop talking and singing every seven seconds to let the siren sound.

People have prepared too much cake and baked goods than what a village could possibly eat in one day. Like double the amount people could possibly eat.

People get really horse, like they've been screaming. People cry a lot, but they say it is out of happiness.

The radio is static other than some channels that are screaming.

The grandma is found screaming down the well by the protag, even though they weren't allowed to go there, causing her to fall in it.

That makes shit happen. Like something relating to screaming and the screaming of many people, like the siren sound is replaced by it.

The cake and everything edible starts melting into water.

Uh... something something. at three PM it stops.

The celebration that is held is actually not for the birthday kids, but for all the people around the world that have died screaming during that quarter year. And the people get born on one of the days know each time someone dies screaming. They don't know if the celebration does anything, but they do it anyway, to try and give the souls that died screaming a last good memory of some kind before they maybe move on. They try and make the best of it. They feel as though they, when they are born on the day, then they are obligated to do something. Because why else would they be burdened by the knowledge, if they weren't chosen to be heralds or something.

And in this universe Hesa Fredrik is inspired by this religious cult, because it was a guy named Fredrik who rediscovered this viking age well and then he became like, part of the civil defense measures government agency, to make more shelters and varning systems because he wanted less people to die screaming.

And the partner took the protag here on this day cuz... idk. They both are emergency room nurses? And the protag was stressed out over losing patients? And the partner wanted to show that all the people who die in pain get birthday cake? And the partner also believes that people who scream internally when they die also are there but you can't hear them?

Idk. Just wanted a eldritch tower/well and siren/hesa fredrik horror thing.

*So I listened to a video essay about quiet horror and then watched a movie they talked about. The beginning was kinda engaging but then the continuation of it wasn't. I also watched a video of that Junji Ito guy looking at scary pictures and he looked at sirenhead and said "Oh, I wrote some stories about sirens" and since I like the siren noise as a unsettling thing in horror stuff I checked those out but was disappointed. Also remembered the reverse tower in annihilation and that I was disappointed by how it was featured after a video essay had hyped it up a bit. So yeah.

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