#// a very vampire unfriendly custom

[rejectshumanity]

his first order of business upon achieving world domination? abolish daylight savings time once and for all.

[moon-yeongjun]

Chuseok || Mu Jun

Summary: On Chuseok, the Baes and Moons gather as is tradition and a secret is revealed... 

@baenxietydad

JUN: 

Chuseok. 

Normally, Jun loved Chuseok. It was the one holiday that Jun could always afford to come home for with no guilt, to enjoy Eomma’s cooking and play games with his siblings. Last year’s Chuseok he had to spend it with Tiffany’s family and missed his own in the very fibre of his bones. He called Eomma and talked to her for two hours, nearly crying a few times, but of course, holding it all in. He had been looking forward to this Chuseok, then. Even though Abeoji would not be here...there would still be food and games and the Baes would come over like they always did--and Korean would flow, and the house would smell like egg batter, and he’d be...home.

But this year Chuseok came on the heel of Jun’s greatest shame. All the rich, delicious delicacies of Chuseok, the gifts, he didn’t deserve any of it. He woke up and wanted to walk out into the fields-- banish himself if Eomma wouldn’t. 

He couldn’t, though. Tradition was tradition, town scandal or not. Eomma found him feeding the chickens and gave him his to-do list for the day, mentioning the Baes would be over before noon.

So here he was in the kitchen, chopping vegetables. Onions actually. They burned his eyes, making him sniffle and  turn bright red. He looked up from the cutting board as he tried furiously to blink the onion-stench from his eyes when he heard a knock.

Ah, it was Mu-yeol hyung, sent in here by Eomma no doubt.

“It’s the onions!” Jun declared instead of hello, sensitive about the tear that rolled down his cheek. “Aiya, come here and take over, I need a break.” 

 MARLIN:

Mu-yeol clicked his tongue like he was admonishing Jun and quickly took over chopping the onions. Aiya, you’d think humans would evolve and immunity to the gasses onions give off considering they use them in cooking regularly.

“Fun fact-” the ‘about fairies’ bit was silent  “-onions don’t bother us. Evolution was kinder to us.”

He gestured to the counter with some shavings of veggie peels on it. “Scoop those into the trashcan before noonim yells at us both.”

Yells was used liberally here, as Eun-jung was more likely to go ‘omo, boys what a mess!’  and quietly do the spot cleaning herself while Jun insisted they were ‘about to do it, eomma!’

“Yah, you really took something out on the onions, didn’t you?” 

 JUN: 

Jun rolled his eyes at his hyung, though it was a good-natured kind of gesture (for Jun, at least). Of course fairies were unaffected by onions. You know, sometimes he wouldn’t mind so much being something like a fairy. It seemed idyllic from where he stood-- a kind community, lots of holding hands, one specific thing to do, even if that was, eh...garbage-talent! Or something. But anyway. 

He obeyed his hyung and put the food waste into the food waste bucket, since he would add it to the Moon’s compost pile later. Then he moved to the drawer to pull out another knife. He’d go for the mushrooms, eh. 

“Ah, just getting warmed up, hyung,” Jun said almost cheerfully. With a snort he took his place next to Mu-yeol and put the mushroom’s on another cutting board. “It’s election season. Plenty to be upset about, eh.” He began his furious chopping again. 

Yes, the election was what got Jun worked up. Nothing else! 

 MARLIN:

“The election? Oh.” Mu-yeol nodded slowly.

He almost forgot about that seeing as he never cared enough before last year. His son of course had only been going to human school for a year so it was just last year he cared enough to vote. If he recalled correctly he’d voted for Hades Acheron.

This year? He didn’t even know what seats were going to be open or who all was running yet. Of course that had yet to be announced but he imagined townsfolk had heard gossip of who may run.

“Are you looking to run?” He asked Jun, an eyebrow quirking up.

JUN: 

“Ha!” Jun barked at his hyung’s ridiculous question. 

Honestly, he could laugh even harder than that.

Jun, see, never had political aspirations. Politics were a bastard’s business-- necessary evil, yes, but not for him. Before his market was attacked though, he had hoped to help Al McWiggin with a campaign. Now? He wasn’t sure. It might be too dangerous. His store was targeted already. What if Swynlake went after his family next? What if Tae-yah was harassed at school? Jun fretted over these questions, and cursed himself for even caring in the first place--for ever wanting to make Swynlake better. 

Why did he care about Swynlake when Swynlake did not care about him? 

“Please, don’t you know we’re public enemy number one right now?” Jun said bitterly as he swept his mushrooms into the boiling pot. He reached for the carrots next. “I run, I get chased out of town with pitchforks.” 

 MARLIN:

“No? No, I didn’t hear. Who could be mad at your mother?” Mu-yeol wrinkled his nose in disbelief. Eun-jung was the kindest, most loving person. “Or is it you? You can be...abrasive.”

As Jun’s hyung, he can say something so brutally honest.

“Of course, part of that is our culture. We're blunt people. What makes you think people are so angry with you?” 

Being in the Hollow, he hadn’t heard of the vandalism. 

JUN: 

He scoffed again.

Was it a good thing that his hyung was clueless? Maybe, maybe not. Mu-yeol didn’t really count when it came to Swynlake. He avoided the town unless he was 1. Working; 2. Watching his son dance; or 3. Picking up Korean-specific groceries from the Moon Market. He had not come by recently and so he did not see the RACIST accusation nor did he go on Twitter or read the newspaper. Maybe it was a good thing talk did not reach the noisy dance halls of Pixie’s then? Or Jun should not count his luck. 

He began to furiously chop the carrots. 

“The store was attacked, hyung. A girl--she hated my petitions against vampires--against vampires, you know, the one many people signed! And so she vandalized the Market!” Jun brandished the knife very unsafely as his anger grew. “She said I was racist! I’m not racist, eh, I just don’t like vampires. You don’t like vampires!” Jabbed the knife toward Mu-yeol. “But I’m not racist. But no, now everyone is saying that we are unfriendly to Magicks and some are saying they won’t shop at our store-- but we are not, eh, we’ve never--we serve anyone who comes in, vampire, werewolf, fairy, sorcerer, we have never turned away a customer--all because I just wanted to make Swynlake safe against dark magic, dark magic, not all magic-- so I’ve ruined my entire fami--ah!” 

He hissed and his hand jerked away. He’d sliced into his skin with the knife as tears had blurred into his eyes once more. At least now he could blame such tears on the pain. Jun spat a very explicit Korean curse as he made to move over to the sink.  

 MARLIN:

Now, Mu-yeol was about to tell Jun it would be okay but then he had to go and damn near slice his hand off and that kicked him right into healing fairy mode. Jun swore and Mu-yeol followed him to the sink and turned it on so the water would rinse the cut. 

“Hey, hey, sh it’s okay. Don’t think about it.” Mu-yeol said gently. “I’ll fix it, give me your hand.

With her bare hand - which was not human medical practice - Mu-yeol took Jun’s hand in his and waved his other hand over the cut which in one motion stopped the bleeding. To seal the cut however he had to rest his other hand on top of Jun’s until it felt like they held sunbeams in their hands, complete with a little golden glimmer.

He pulled his hands away, still covered in Jun’s blood, and nodded to the hand. “Good as new.”

And with a flick of his wrists so that his palms faced up Jun’s blood disappeared from his hands. “And clean.”

 JUN: 

“Daebak.”

Jun did not say this.

He’d grumbled the entire time Mu-yeol tended his gash, tears stinging in his eyes. He had not heard the kitchen door open. He did not see Eomma enter. Only now he heard her soft exclamation. Jun jerked his head to see her holding freshly picked cucumbers from Appa’s garden. She had obviously brought them for Mu-yeol and Jun.

She had also, obviously, seen Mu-yeol perform magic. 

“Eomma,” Jun blurted and instinctively stepped in front of Mu-yeol as if he could hide--

Eun-jung blinked several times and then scurried toward them. “Aiya, already using both our cutting boards! Where am I supposed to cut these, hmm?” 

Jun blinked. He glanced at Mu-yeol--

Eun-jung pushed her way between them. “Junnie, the gim please.” 

“Eomma…”

“Stop standing there with your mouth open, you’ll eat a fly,” Eomma huffed. She looked at Mu-yeol. “Does this kid have rice stuffed in his ears? What?” A pause. “Are we still pretending I don’t know?” 

 MARLIN:

Mu-yeol stood there frozen like an ice block as his eyes flitted between Jun and Eun-jung. He used magic. He used magic on Jun (to help him!) and she didn’t even flinch. Apart from a soft exclamation of sur— no, not even surprise. She’d sounded impressed. Amazed? But not surprised.

And most importantly she didn’t seem angry. 

“I— what. Wait, what.” Mu-yeol finally stammered, looking at Jun as if to ask if he knew she knew. 

“You knew?” He asked quietly, barely above a whisper. “And you don’t care? For how long?”

 JUN: 

Jun watched his mother sigh, then smile gently at Mu-yeol.  

They had a rule in their household, very vague as to apply to many things. The rule was this: don’t talk about it. It could mean the recurring billywig blight that kept attacking their lettuce. It had meant Abeoji’s cancer. It definitely meant the many strange clients the Moon Market served, ‘strange’ applying to couples like Simba and Berlioz and to fairies like Mu-yeol. While these things were not altogether strange to Jun, he understood his parents’ stubborn silence as a conditional acceptance, for Swynlake had been what Abeoji could afford, and now that they were here-- it was home, flaws and all. They must respect those flaws. 

At least, that’s what Jun thought. Now? He felt like he’d just sliced his whole thumb off, even though the pain had vanished. What the hell was going on, eh?! 

“Oh, I don’t know!” Eun-jung said as she shrugged and laughed, though something in her sweet eyes remained sad. “Nam-minnie would always lose his hats, running around the store! You two aren’t so clever as you think. But you never said anything; I didn’t think you wanted us to know. It isn’t our business.” She shrugged a second time as she skinned the cucumber down. 

“You’re okay with it?!” Jun blurted. 

Eun-jung shot him a glare. “Eh, why wouldn’t I be?” 

“Because!” 

“They’re the Baes! What was I going to do, stop talking to them?” And though Jun knew she did not mean to, his Eomma blushed and looked back at her cucumbers, sucking her teeth as though Jun was ridiculous.

But--he understood at once. It was like he had always thought, the same reason why Jun had never said anything, following the rule of the Moon household to the strictest letter. The last thing he had wanted to do was take away one of Eomma’s friends. She hadn’t wanted to lose Mu-yeol, either. 

“Didn’t I tell you to get the gim?” 

Jun made a face. “Eommmaaaaaa.”

 MARLIN:

Eun-jung knew. 

Either she’d always known or she came to know and it didn’t matter to her, because she still invited them over for Chuseok; she still let Nemo sleep over with Tae; she still gently scolded Mu-yeol for telling Nemo to always help with dishes when he sleeps over. 

Had it not been for his being well-versed in Korean human culture, where showing the emotions he wanted to display now was frowned upon, he might have burst into tears and hugged her. He still almost did. 

“Tae eomma…” he said quietly — of course getting back to chopping onions because Chuseok meals waited for no touching revelation — “And you...don’t have any questions? It’s okay if you do. I owe you that much for intending to lie.”

 JUN: 

Eomma went quiet for a moment, but her hands didn’t stop. The knife banged against the cutting board as she sliced up the cucumbers, her movements quick and even. Jun watched, but those hands did not hesitate. Eomma did not seem to be uncomfortable either-- just focused on her task. Though he would be the first to admit that there was more he didn’t know about his parents. After all, he hadn’t known this! He’d foolishly kept a secret he didn’t need to keep. All this time, thinking he was protecting the Moons-- yah, what good was his gesture now? 

Though he wondered. About Abeoji. What about Abeoji? 

Eomma glanced at Jun first, probably sensing the loudness of such thoughts, but then smiled at Mu-yeol. 

“Eh, only if you want to share. I’ve lived in this town too long, I know such things are sensitive. It’s best to be polite.” 

Jun’s cheeks heated, hearing the lecture for him in it.

“Though--” she paused again, dropping her eyes. She tried to sound casual. “Can all fairies do that? What you did for Junnie? Is that why you look so young?” 

MARLIN:

That was the one thing about Korean human culture that really, truly, clashed with fairy culture. The whole ‘don’t ask about anything’ thing. He gave her permission, with his previous statement, and was incredibly thankful she did bite the bait, if only nibbled at it.

He chuckled low in his throat and got back to cutting vegetables, albeit slowly, before Eun-jung scolded him for just being a decoration in her kitchen.

“Not all fairies, only fairies like me. We’re all born with what we call Talents, and that’s our magic. Mine is healing, just like my youngest brother and one of my grandfathers. My parents were - are, they’re still alive - a Scout talent and Pixie Dust talent. Which means my father helps protect the Hollow, and my mother harvests and maintains the pixie dust supply for the whole Hollow. I look so young because once we hit about twenty-five we age slower than humans; a fairy’s lifespan is generally 150-200 years. Our Hollow Queen or King lives for centuries. My father is 103 and my mother is 75.”

Mu-yeol awkwardly cleared his throat. “Sorry. That was probably a lot.”

 JUN: 

Yah, talk about overexplaining. Though Jun only thought that because he was so used to underexplaining-- to excuses and hand-waving and looking the other direction. All such things became habits and habits were hard to break, even when there was no reason to keep them now. He saw the same behavior in his Eomma-- as she blinked and looked uncertain as to react to any of that. 

He wondered if she was thinking about Abeoji. 

Jun was thinking about Abeoji. 

Jun was thinking about how he had begged Mu-yeol to do something, and Mu-yeol said that he could not. It was hopeless, of course it was, and it was not Mu-yeol’s fault, but bitterness filled Jun anyway as his hyung spoke of living so long after healing Jun’s hand like it was nothing. Why did some creatures get such blessings when humans were forced to labor for the mere handful of years? Abeoji had only been sixty-one. Sixty-one. And he was gone. 

After a brief pause, Eomma nodded as though no such pause occurred. “Ahhh, I know about talents, of course. I did not know they weren’t all-- I though it was all in nature and we could get you to help our tomatoes grow.” Her eyes twinkled, all in jest. “But healing, yah, that’s very important. You must be so respected.” 

MARLIN:

Mu-yeol had already unloaded on Jun how very much not respected the Baes were in the Hollow, so he wasn’t sure how to answer Eun-jung. 

“At the clinic I am.” He didn’t lie because that was true. 

This was Eun-jung’s first Chuseok without her husband. He wouldn’t depress her by telling her about why outside of the clinic he and Nemo were a little...not everyone’s favorite. 

“Talents are unpredictable. None of my siblings have the same as my parents. But, Nemo is the same as his mother was. It just depends. On what, I’m not sure.”

JUN:

Jun was still watching his eomma as if she might transform in a moment-- turn from the sweet woman he knew that she was into the woman who ripped the covers off the bed and started shouting at her children if they stayed asleep for too long.

But of course Eomma didn’t. Why would she yell at Mu-yeol? There was no reason to yell at Mu-yeol. They were very different people, his eomma and his hyung, and yet it seemed there was enough similar between them that they both wanted-- to be kind to each other, to forgive each other for the things they might disagree on. 

It made Jun’s heart felt so soft and tender. He rubbed at his chest. Maybe it was just heartburn. 

“Ooooooh, I see. Well, that’s children for you anyway. Junnie takes after Appa, doesn’t he?” she smiled at Jun and turned Jun’s whole face red.

Jun sucked his teeth as if he were disagreeing.

“Who knows why they do? Eh, Junnie, start rolling these.” 

Jun had no choice to come forward to arrange the gimbap. 

Eomma turned to face Mu-yeol then-- and her face looked much more serious. “Mu-yeol ssi, I do hope… I think-- I am sorry,” she finally settled on. She bowed her head slightly. “If you felt that our family would not welcome yours if we knew about your heritage. I think, when we were younger… Yoon-seok and I, there was a lot we didn’t know how to talk about. There’s still so much. But I hope you will still feel safe here.”

[rosaxlunar]

❝ I WOULD TAKE A BULLET FOR YOU, JUST TO PROVE MY LOVE, ONLY TO FIND OUT YOU WERE THE ONE HOLDING THE GUN❞

&&. ( melanie derrieux ) was just spotted in amsterdam. rumor has it ( she/her ) is a ( 900 / appears 34 ) year old ( angel of light ) who resembles ( lea seydoux ). ( she ) has been said to be ( dedicated & creative ) but also quite ( aloof & naive ).with all the chaos surrounding the magical underworld, ( she ) has chosen to align with ( angels of the light ). ( she ) is currently serving as ( a fashion designer ). hopefully the city doesn’t devour them whole.

001 ✟ THE BASICS

NAME: Melanie Derrieux AGE: Nine Hundred appears Thirty Four DOB: July 12 - Cancer GENDER: Cis Female SEXUALITY: Bisexual NATIONALITY: French  SPECIES: Angel of Light ALLEGIANCE: Light Angels THEME SONG: Young & Beautiful - Lana Del Rey PERSONALITY TRAITS: ( + ) Affectionate, Dedicated, Creative & Loyal  ( - ) Aloof, Melancholy, Naive, Spoiled

002 ✟ IN DEPTH

there are few things melanie derrieux remembers from her time as a human. she knows she was the only child of étienne and fleur derrieux and as such she was the sole focus of her parent’s affection. she knows she was born in paris france, and that she never left her birthplace except to visit the countryside every so often. she knows she was happy and intermingled with some names and faces are the vague recollections of little instances of a mortal life, of fleeting romances and rebellious charisma making the most of every day. however time was a funny thing, and for the immortal it became more of a blur as time continued on. she kept forgetting more and more of life as a human. replacing those faint memories were the vivid ones made as an angel. she doesn’t know why she was chosen, can't even begin to recall how she died and what exactly deemed her worthy enough to continue the afterlife as one of god's faithful servants but she was honored. originally trained as a healer, she spent her afterlife traveling the world and helping heal the warrior angels in all their battles. 

it was as a healer that melanie first met the headstrong and formidable angel, sanem. never in all her years, would melanie think that a brief interaction where she helped heal the wounded angel would in turn result into one of the best things to ever happen to her. sanem became more than just a warrior angel mel would occasionally help, she became her confidant, her best friend, a missing key that opened her life to a plethora of happiness. after that, it was rare to see one without the other, each intrinsically linked to one another.

melanie didn’t think anything could get better until she found herself in a whirlwind of a romance. her soul finally meeting its match, her other half, her soulmate. she fell for another light angel and it wasn’t long till she promised her heart and herself to him, as he did to her. after all the courting and affectionate rituals they could share in, the completed the most sacred one. to unite under the eyes and grace of god, and publically share their loyalty only to one another. they were married and she wore his ring proudly, delighted to call herself a mrs. for so many years she was content, fulfilling her purpose as a healer, seeing her husband continue to thrive in his mission to rid the world of darkness and evil, as well as her best friend. she was so caught up in her bliss, she didn’t see the signs that something was wrong, and would brush off the concerning observations brought up by her dearest friend sanem. it was just inconceivable, the notion that the man she had trusted would ever betray her. not after all they've been through, not after all the promises. 

however, it came to a point where things could no longer be brushed aside and in an ugly twist of fate, melanie felt her bond shatter, not only because of the single betrayal of him having found comfort in another being, which was already painful enough, but worse still was him having the nerve, the utter gall and disgrace to fall and leave her behind without confronting her about it. even if she hadn’t caught them with her own eyes, seen it play out as he sipped the blood his putain had offered him, she would have known of his falling. for her soul felt an indescribable pain, a separation, a splitting of one back to two. and worse still, she could feel an echo of his presence that was no longer there, a coldness seeping in where there was once only warmth. 

it's only been a few years since that fateful day and her whole way of life has changed. she was lucky that she had sanem to help her pick up the pieces of the utter destruction done to her heart but even with her around, the walls that came up around melanie transformed her from a once sunny and vibrant personality into a cool distant one. she weathered the side glances and the gossipy whispers of those who knew the fate of her marriage, tried not to let the remarks and questions bring shame to her the way some intended. she wasn’t the one who broke the promise and she wasn’t the one who chose a cowards way out. yet it would be a lie if she didn’t admit that she often asks herself, in the quiet moments of pure isolation. just what exactly was so wrong with her, that a mere mortal was enough for her soulmate to drink the forbidden blood and fall. why was she not enough? why did she not even suspect that he was so unhappy with her? 

she walks with her head held high, a cool gaze and with an expressionless face when in public, but in reality she feels so distraught. Time hasn’t healed the emotional wounds yet and she now clings to her best friend, as a source of comfort and love, the only one she doesn’t doubt while everything else around her proved to be a lie. 

in an effort to escape the stigma that her failed marriage has brought her, melanie relocated to the city of amsterdam when the truth of what they are came to light. to this new city she was a stranger, only the other angels knew of her past and it was a breath of fresh air that for the most part, she could go about town and not feel the pitying stares follow her every move

003 ✟ FUN FACTS

after her marriage and connection to her soulmate was destroyed, melanie found herself too distracted and in a fog of grief to continue as a healer. her superiors quickly realizing that until she was better, she would be no good to them or their armies. melanie took a step back from her healing duties.

always a creative soul and very good with her hands, melanie found a comfort in sewing. from then she began to teach herself how to work with different fabrics and then at the encouragement of her best friend, she started trying to create the outfits and designs she would originally just doodle. now melanie is opening her first boutique, where everything is custom made by her and her little team of seamstresses.  

melanie has an immense love and respect for flowers and fauna, the fragile beauty always called out to her and she loved the process of planting the seed and seeing them bloom. its not rare to see mel picking flowers or having the motif around her, her clothing, her accessories and the like. she used to tend many gardens up above and now that she has settled on earth, she is in the process of making her own little magical garden.

melanie’s new boutique is named MAISON DE LA FLEUR FAE - an ode to her love of flowers, and her belief that were she to be any other creature, she knows she would be a fairy. 

melanie is absolutely clueless about the fact that her best friend, sanem is not only deeply in love with her, but was the puppet master behind her husband being lured to the dark side all in an effort to have melanie to herself. to melanie, sanem is her rock, and she cannot see how manipulative the other angel can be.

004 ✟ WANTED CONNECTIONS

ex husband:  this character will be a wanted connection soon, is currently a happy fallen angel, might feel guilt over how shit went down but it will be utp if they have any lingering feelings for melanie or not. melanie does not know that she chose the city where her ex lives, lots of drama when they see each other again. even more drama should he reveal that sanem had a hand in everything that went down.

friends: sanem is her best friend and she feels a connection to adonis because his partner fell too. I would love to plot with any other light angels to think up how our bbs know each other!

anything else: even though melanie can be very flirtatious, the minute it can resemble anything real she retreats. so hookup culture isn’t her thing but it can be fun to play around with that, i would also love to explore all the snark and unfriendly interactions of vampires vs angels, and fallen angels vs angels. so lets have fun with our bbs not liking each other!  as well as potential clients at her boutique!  

[sleepyfan-blog]

The Moonlight Carnival

anon request that tumblr munched.

fandom: none

warnings: references to gore, body horror, smoking, horror elements, circus, cursing

This was very different than other requests I’ve gotten, but a fun writing exercise. I really hope that you enjoy this, anon. 

“Maman!”  Lucette called out, a small pout on her face, waggling the end of the fat cigar that had smoldered out in the grey, foggy afternoon. The cold damp had soaked into everything - little droplets of water having condensed onto the thick goggles that the young zombie liked to wear on her head. Her black beret was similarly soaked and some of the frills on her long, black dress had flattened somewhat. Her long, dirty hair (long since stained by the gunpowder that she so loved to play with) clung together in clumps and patches, but none of this mattered to the little girl as she skipped over to her mother, gently tugging on the vampire’s dress “Maman, my cigar went out!”

Leonne smiled indulgently at her beloved daughter, gently reaching out and patting her, glad that the magical sigil continued to glow at least. It proved to her that this fog was not of a natural make, at least. She pulls the cigarette out of her mouth, blowing a bit of smoke out from between her lips as she does so as she lights her daughter’s cigar, and murmurs “Find Vivian and bring her into the main tent, alright? I need to talk with Zosme and Liam… Oh, and do check to make sure that Miss Eloise will be coming for her shift - but that she will need to be on guard. I don’t like the look of this fog. It’s dreadfully suffocating.”  She twirled the end of her cigarette holder for emphasis, knowing with long practice how to spin it without causing the cigarette to go spinning out of the holder.

“Yes, maman!” Lucette responded, happily running off to go find her friend, finding her softly blue-glowing form as she drifted from one side of the encampment to the other “Vivian! Vivian, maman says that we have to stay inside.” She grinned widely at her dear magician friend, her crooked, yellow-stained teeth flashing a little in the dim, grey light, her milky-white eyes reflecting her surroundings.

“Hmmm…? Oh… Alright.” The young ghost nodded, drifted after her more lively friend, a small smile appearing on her face as the pair of them made their way into the spacious main tent.

Lucette wandered over to where her cannon was, gently patting it and humming softly, closing her eyes for a couple of moments as she recalled the the many time that she had flown through the air, rising high, high into the sky, her hair streaming behind her, her arms outstretched as she felt as if she could fly, before tumbling down, laughing and screaming with delight as she rocketed back down to earth, uncaring of the splattered mess that she’d make, content to wait until Maman and the others found the scattered pieces of her body. She heard a faint splash from the beautiful, glass tank that Zosme and Liam performed in - finding the way that they flew in the water to be pretty… But water put out her precious fire, and was therefore something that she didn’t like very much. She ran to the water’s edge and called out “Zosme! Zoooosmeee~! Maman really wants to talk to you, something about the fog being weird…”

The tall, slender selkie breached the surface of the water at the sound of the little girl’s voice, and sent her a small smile, a flash of needle-sharp teeth briefly seen before she spoke, her voice beautiful and lilting, as if Zosme were singing just a little (it was such a pretty sound, almost as lovely as the sounds that Lucette’s cannon made as it fired her into the sky! Or into the crowd, which was really funny, even if most of them really didn’t appreciate her guts getting blown across them) “Very well, does she want to talk to Liam as well?”

“Uh-huh! Where’s the cellphone that we use to talk to Eloise at? I don’t remember where Maman put it…” The little zombie asked, frowning for a moment before shrugging. If she needed to remember something, she would!

“It’s on the highest stand of the bleachers, near the lights, so that it can stay charged, little one. The two of us will go speak to the Ring mistress about this supposedly concerning fog. Do not worry, for no weather will scare us away!” The siren promised, gently pointing out where the phone was before setting off in the direction of her boss.

~

Liam - her lovely Selkie boyfriend - walked hand in hand with her as the pair of them made their way through the dense fog towards Leonne, nodding politely to the vampire. “The young ones are inside - Vivi is practicing one of her card tricks, and I believe that Luci is checking to make sure that her cannon is in working order again. There is definitely something strange about this fog… And perhaps a bit unfriendly, but as we are merely wandering travelers, so long as we do not tarry here for longer than necessary, I believe that we should be safe… Perhaps tag Luci with a locator spell so that we can find her pieces a bit faster?”

Liam shivered a little, squinting a bit, squeezing her hand a little bit and muttering quietly “I think that we should push for a modest crowd, nothing too big. We’re still in the newer territories for The Gentry to try to claim but…” The selkie shivers a little bit, a quiet warble in the back of his throat as he presses closer to his beautiful, badass girlfriend “This reeks of some sort of portent and I’m not about to get pulled into some bullshit quest, or tied down to some scheming being who’s hidden my coat somewhere.”

Zosme growled a little, her eyes flashing with protective wrath “As if I would let someone make you a meek little house-husband, my love. I would sing them to a slow and miserable death, until they are begging we take your coat back before drinking full and deep their life’s blood, giving you their still-beating heart as a prize.”

Leonne nodded, a concerned frown appearing on her face “Duly noted - and I suppose that we should angle for a mainly human crowd, despite how… Judgmental they can be?”

“Yes.” Both Zosme and Liam responded at the same time, nodding in unison.

“Ah, well. It can’t be helped, and I’d rather not have to deal with any of territorial nonsense. I’m not part of a coven for many reasons, the rules that come with being part of a group being one of them.”  The Ring Mistress responded with a sigh. “Patrol the grounds until ten minutes before your act begins. Contact me if we have company.”

Siren and Selkie nodded in understanding, this small, travelling circus was very much their home, and they would defend it from anyone who would seek to tear apart their rag-tag little family apart with ridiculous and irritating notions of what beings like them could or should do.

~

Eloise sighed as her phone rang. She had just caught the last of the fish that Zosme needed for food, had swung by the blood bank for Boss, found some unusual teas and a couple dozen macarons for Luci, and managed to talk the spectral proprietor of the unusual candy and pastry shop to let her purchase some spectral sweets for Vivi. She even found those sea-being friendly chocolates that Liam had begged her to try to find, as a surprise for his girlfriend. Eloise had a couple of hours before she needed to head back and had decided to crash at a hotel to catch some much-needed sleep and was just about to check in to a comfortable place to nap that had this neat time-dilation spell on it that would allow her to get a full eight hours of sleep well before she had to get to work. Was it spendy? Yes. But Eloise was going to be up all night taking tickets and handing out food to the customers and wanted to make sure that she was going to be ready for opening night. Unless it was her parents, demanding that she come home from the circus. In which case she’d just ignore it and sign in. But no, it was the boss. “Hey boss, what’s up?”  She asked, yawning a little.

“Miss Eloise, have you noticed the fog today?” Leonne asked without preamble.

The human blinked a little, utterly confused as she walked out of the hotel doors. Unless the weather had changed in the past five minutes, it had been a warm, sunny day. This had not changed “Uh… Boss, I’m not sure where you are right now, but it’s clear blue skies and warm, bright sun. I figured you’d be indoors because of the light bothering your eyes.” That’s how she’d been taught how to talk about her boss’s vampirism in public. Then again, people could get really weird about a lot of things, and Ellie had long since learned how to roll with the punches.

“Non! The fog rolled in shortly after you left in the morning to get us all something to eat… Come back to us, please. Something strange is happening, and I fear we may need to pack up and head elsewhere. Or at least change locations.”  Leonne responded, sounding as startled and confused as Eloise felt.

Damn, and she’d already started the word of mouth campaign, spreading throughout the city about the circus. Eloise didn’t understand why Mrs. Leonne wouldn’t let her post about the circus online, but none of them were particularly fond of human gadgetry - and talking about a zombie in a circus could draw the wrong sort of people. Lucette was a sweet, intelligent kid, and the last thing that Eloise wanted was for some dumb asshole to try to kill her for being an abomination… Or worse. “Yes boss. I’ll be there as soon as I can. I’ll text you when I’m about ten minutes out.”

“Good. Travel safely.”  Leonne acknowledged before hanging up.

~

Sure enough, as soon as Eloise hit the side of town that The Moonlight Carnival was set-up in - perfectly legally, mind you. They had all of the permits and zoning requirements as needed per city, county and state laws… There was a fog wall. Thick as anything and looking very much like a physical barrier. There were also beings in neat, black and white pinstripe suits patrolling the perimeter looking incredibly official and intimidating. Despite everything that she’d been taught in school, the human moved closer to the group, catching the…

Moonstone lotus pins that each of them wore above their left breast pockets, just above neatly folded blood-red handkerchiefs that were probably silk or something equally expensive. Eloise cursed quietly to herself as she pulled out her phone, looking up where the nearest public rose garden was, walking with purpose away from the patrolling beings, doing their best to seem unconcerned by what they were doing so long as they didn’t go after her.

She stepped lightly over the barrier of salt-stones and garlic plants, across the fast-flowing water and into the public rose garden, heading straight for one of the ovals (carefully maintained so as not to turn into circles as an unwitting invitation to the fae) and called her boss.

“Eloise, are you alright? I cannot hear you.” Leonne asked, concern in her voice.

As if she was really ten minutes away, Leonne could hear her heartbeat, if the vampire so chose. “I sought sanctuary in a rose garden. Sorry about that, but The Gilded Lotus has cordoned the half of the town that the circus is in. I’m not sure if they’re after you or someone else, but you all should really clear off. I saw a dozen of the smug fuckers patrolling the fog-barrier, so whatever they’re after, they really want it.”

“Merde. Stay there until I call you again. I dislike the noisiness of this city and I don’t feel like putting on a show tonight. I’ll inform the others of that.” Leonne responded with an irritated growl underlining her words.

“Yes boss.” Eloise answered back. This wasn’t the first time they’d skipped town because of local bullshit, and it likely wouldn’t be the last.

[tmitransitioning]

To the anon with the Egypt travel plans, there is the option to get T 'pellets' put under your skin which would keep your T levels rather constant for a few months... ofc inserting anything under your skin comes with risks but if staying on T is sth you'd desire for that time, you could talk to your doctor about it

(Re: this ask!)

This is true, and I neglected to mention it, so thank you for that! If anon decides to look into this route, though, I’d probably recommend that they “test” if pellets are a viable option for them before travelling—a small but real percentage of people extrude the pellets (5-12%), and while there’s no 100% guaranteed predictor to figure out if this could happen in advance, it would really suck to extrude a pellet while travelling without consistent doctor access.

I figure you know that since you mentioned risks, but I’m putting the source here because whenever we mention pellets on this blog we tend to get people assuming that they extrude 100% of the time and are never safe. :) They do have higher rates of complication than something like injection, which is worth considering if you’re unsure how your body reacts to things in its skin that it wants gone—some people can’t get surface piercings, for example, such as the eyebrow or “vampire bites”, because something about their bodies rejects them. And things like collagen disorders can make this more likely, especially if the affected form of collagen is found in the interstitium or epidermis.

All that said, if the timeframe works and anon can establish pellets as a physically (and financially!) viable option in advance, that could totally work! I tried to hit a couple different bases with that answer, since I wasn’t sure if their question was about whether or not going off T for that length of time would revert them to someone who could “pass” for a cis woman.

I’m also gonna add @keshiik‘s replies to this ask:

tbh it'd be way better to bring testosterone (pill form ideally) and claim you have a cis man's endocrinological problem or just say it's for an illness and leave it at that. i've travelled overseas several times and they've never checked my meds, even when reentering the States (which is the most stringent customs i've been thru), so i wouldn't worry about airline agents, & like. almost everyone has a medication of some sort. if you just play it cool the ppl you're with won't think anything of it

I agree with the sentiment of this that it’s better to stay on T during travel if they’re concerned about being flagged as trans in a country with a very trans-unfriendly government. I don’t think I’d go for pill form, though; it’s extremely difficult to access in the US, because the original form of oral T (methyltestosterone) was very liver-toxic. (This is also why a lot of people believe that all forms of oral T are very liver-toxic.)

Oral undecanoate, the pill form sometimes prescribed in Canada and Europe, is easier on the liver but requires several doses a day to keep a consistent level in your body, which might also make it a pain for travelling.

There are also injectable forms of T that are done monthly instead of weekly or biweekly, such as Sustanon, but I believe that these aren’t prescribed in the States; they’re used in the UK, Australia, and possibly Canada. Anon should not take Sustanon if they have a peanut allergy, though, because it’s suspended in peanut oil.

North American customs are generally okay with prescription drugs if you can prove that you have a legal prescription for them, though you should absolutely look up specific crossing regulations before travelling (they’re different for air vs land vs sea etc). You generally need the meds to be in their original containers with prescriptions on the bottle, or have a paper prescription from your doctor; if you’re travelling with injection supplies, you’ll also need a note about the needles. And if you’re entering the States or Canada, you need to declare that you have a controlled substance for personal medication use to the customs officer.

I don’t know about Egyptian customs, though. And while I agree that you shouldn’t have to disclose what your medication is for, I don’t think I’d recommend claiming that you’re cis, or in any way inviting scrutiny into your medications and body. If you absolutely need to, I think “hormone disorder” or “endocrinological problem” is the safest thing to say, but any more than that and we’re getting into territory I don’t feel comfortable speaking authoritatively on. My experiences with border crossings have been all in North America, and I have a significant amount of privilege there for being white and typically travelling with my cis family through the NEXUS program.

With all this taken into account/TL;DR: I think that if anon chooses to stay on T while travelling to a country that isn’t very trans-friendly, then long-acting forms like pellets or Sustanon would be the best bet for them, so that they could avoid the additional complicator of taking meds through customs and safely administering while travelling. Both of these they should make sure they tolerate well in advance, especially pellets.

- Mod Wolf

[raven-belladonna]

Where did the 2000's...AKA My 20's Go?

Listening  to rock from the 2000’s and feeling bored one night, I began looking  through long forgotten files on my cloud server. First it was the files with old writings such as blogs and music I had written in my mid-20’s.  But, as I explored further, I came across a ton of old pictures as well. Pictures  of old friends, old loves, the cool places we hung out, and all those damned band photos. Pictures of a life that somehow seemed like someone else’s life rather than my own. Reminiscing about those days, I  began looking up old social networks that were once a huge part of my  everyday life. Sites, like MySpace, have totally changed to an unrecognizable format and a very  user-unfriendly interface. And, others, like Friendster are now simply just gone forever. Even my old AOL and Yahoo! IM accounts no longer existed. It seemed as if my entire old online life died along with the rest of what made the internet a cool and hip place to be.

In my desperate search to find some semblance of the creativity and individually of those sites, I came across friendproject.net. An interesting cool little corner of the interwebs that is a “clone” of the old MySpace I loved and practically lived on in the 2000’s. On Friend Project (okay, the name could use a little work, along with the site itself), I can post almost everything I once did on MySpace within the same format. I can customize my profile with HTML codes, post and comment on friend’s pages, write and read blogs (which I was doing on an  almost daily basis back in the day), share music, take surveys, and  more. And, as I was virtually reliving my 20’s, I couldn’t help but  wonder…What exactly happened to the internet being cool and  individualized? Has the corporate conglomerate reached gotten so long that they are now infiltrating every aspect of our lives? And, when did  we just roll over and accept that basic formats are simply the way  things must be? When did we become so…generic?

In  my quest to find the answers to these questions, I find that I’m not  only one asking them. Several articles I found tended to ask the exact same questions. In the “Age of the Reboot” could it be possible that some of these long dead ideas and sites be “rebooted” for today’s  world as well? Could we see a resurgence in individualism on social media?

It seems even on much smaller and less well known platforms such as  (the aforementioned) Friend Project, Reddit, Minds, Twitch, Vampire  Freaks (which has been around forever), BitChute, and many, many more, users are gravitating to in them droves! The trend of the mega-corporate sites appears to be on a rapid decline. Users are demanding  more individual freedom to express themselves with much less corporate interference and influence. As the trend towards freedom of expression expands in our online lives continues, what will happen to these large  social media sites in the next 10 years? Will they go the way of the  “new” MySpace…Hard to use and seemingly pointless? It will definitely be interesting to watch.

However, this almost 40 year old still longs for the days of  easy customization, freedom of expression, and free to be the same badass  rock chick she’s always insisted on being…despite what the  mega-mainstream thinks she should be.Always rebel. Always rock out. And, always...ALWAYS be a free individual!

[gaysparklepires]

21. Trails

I hated to waste any part of the night in sleep, but that was inevitable. The sun was bright outside the window-wall when I woke, with small clouds scuttling too quickly across the sky. The wind rocked the treetops till the whole forest looked as if it was going to shake apart.

He kissed me gently, then left me alone to get dressed, and I appreciated the chance to sleep. Somehow, my entire night had gone completely differently than I had ever imagined it would. Somehow, though I wasn’t upset. Maybe just surprised. I’d given back the beautiful ring as soon as I had woken up—afraid I’d lose it with my luck. Though it was no longer on my finger, my hand still felt heavier, like it was still there.

I had considered Edward’s compromise; a quiet, private affair—a road trip to Vegas. Jeans and a t-shirt, a short ceremony; no more than fifteen minutes. Nothing scary about that.

And then, when it was over, we’d be linked in every human way possible. Another human experience checked off the list. That wasn’t so bad, at all. In fact, it was a pretty great deal.

He said I didn’t have to tell anyone, though I was still deciding if I wanted to keep it a secret or not. Of course, it was very stupid of me to not think of Alice.

The Cullens got home around noon. There was a new, businesslike feel to the atmosphere around them, and it pulled me back into the enormity of what was coming.

Alice seemed to be in an unusually bad mood. I chalked it up to her frustration with feeling normal, because her first words to Edward were a complaint about working with the wolves.

“I think”—she made a face as she used the uncertain word—“that you’re going to want to pack for cold weather, Edward. I can’t see where you are exactly, because you’re taking off with that dog this afternoon. But the storm that’s coming seems particularly bad in that general area.”

Edward nodded.

“It’s going to snow on the mountains,” she warned him.

“Snow?” I muttered, “It’s June for crying out loud.”

“Wear a jacket,” Alice told me. Her voice was unfriendly, and that surprised me. I tried to read her face, but she turned away.

I looked at Edward, and he was smiling; whatever was bugging Alice amused him.

Edward had more than enough camping gear to choose from—props in the human charade; the Cullens were good customers at the Newton’s store. He grabbed a down sleeping bag, a small tent, and several packets of dehydrated food—grinning when I made a face at them—and stuffed them all in a backpack.

Alice wandered into the garage while we were there, watching Edward’s preparations without a word. He ignored her.

When he was done packing, Edward turned to me. “Why don’t you call Jacob and tell him we’ll be ready for him in an hour or so. He knows where to meet us.”

Jacob wasn’t home, but Billy promised to call around until he could find an available werewolf to pass the news to.

“Don’t you worry about Charlie, Beau,” Billy said. “I’ve got my part of this under control.”

“Thanks, Billy. I know Charlie will be fine.” I didn’t feel so confident about his son’s safety, but I didn’t add that.

“I wish I could be with the rest of them tomorrow.” Billy chuckled regretfully. “Being an old man is a hardship, Beau.”

I couldn’t even begin to comprehend why every single person in my life seemed to jump at the chance to fight.

“Have fun with Charlie.”

“Good luck, Beau,” he answered. “And… pass that along to the, er, Cullens for me.”

“I will,” I promised, surprised by the gesture.

I pocketed my phone, and turned back to Edward and Alice. I saw that they were having some kind of silent discussion. She was staring at him, pleading in her eyes. He was frowning back, unhappy with whatever she wanted.

“Billy said to tell you ‘good luck.’”

“That was generous of him,” Edward said, breaking away from her.

“Beau, could I please speak to you alone?” Alice asked swiftly.

“You’re about to make my life much harder than it needs to be, Alice,” Edward warned her through his teeth. “I’d really rather you didn’t.”

“This isn’t about you, Edward,” she shot back.

He laughed. Something about her response was funny to him.

“It’s not,” Alice insisted. “This is between Beau and myself.”

He frowned.

“It’s fine, Edward, let her talk to me,” I told him. I was curious.

“You asked for it,” he muttered. He laughed again—half angry, half amused—and strode out of the garage.

I turned to Alice, worried now, but she didn’t look at me. Her bad mood hadn’t passed yet.

She went to sit on the hood of her Porsche, her face dejected. I followed, and leaned against the bumper beside her.

“Beau?” Alice asked in a sad voice, shifting over and curling up against my side. Her voice sounded so miserable that I wrapped my arms around her shoulders in comfort.

“What’s wrong, Alice?”

“Don’t you love me?” she asked in that same sad tone.

“Of course I do. You know that.”

“Then why do I see you sneaking off to Vegas to get married without inviting me?”

“Oh,” I muttered, my cheeks turning pink. I could see that I had seriously hurt her feelings, and I hurried to defend myself. “You know I don’t like making a big deal out of things. It was Edward’s idea, anyway.”

“It doesn’t matter whose idea it was, Beau! It’s the principle of the matter! I expect that kind of thing from Edward, but not from you. I love you like you were my own brother.”

“And I love you like a sister, Alice!”

“Words!” She sighed.

“Alice, of course you’re invited. There won’t be much to see, though.”

She was still grimacing.

“What?’ I pushed.

“How much do you love me, Beau?”

“Why?”

She stared at me with pleading eyes, her long black eyebrows slanting up in the middle and pulling together, her lips trembling at the corners. It was a heart-breaking expression.

“Please, please, please,” she whispered. “Please, Beau, please… Please let me plan your wedding.”

“Aw, Alice!” I sighed, pulling away and standing up. “Come on, don’t do this right now. We’re about to face an army of homicidal newborns and you’re upset about a wedding?”

“I know, Beau, I know, but it would mean so much to me!”

I folded my arms across my chest. “Alice, this is unfair.”

“I’ll bet Edward would like it better if you did this traditionally, though he’d never tell you that. And Esme—think what it would mean to her!”

I groaned. “I can’t believe we’re having this conversation right now.”

“I’ll owe you for a decade!”

“You’d owe me for a century!”

Her eyes glowed. “Is that a yes?”

“No! I don’t want to do anything big and crazy!”

“You won’t have to do  anything but walk a few yards and then repeat after the minister.”

“Ugh, Alice.”

“Please?” She started bouncing in place. “Please, please, please, please, please?”

I couldn’t help but smile a little, but I was fighting it hard. The smile broke through on the corners of my lips as I tried to give her a serious expression. “I’ll never, never ever forgive you for this, Alice.”

“Yay!” she squealed, clapping her hands together.

“It’s not a complete yes, Alice!”

“But it will be,” she sang.

“Edward!” I called, walking out of the garage. “I know you’re listening. Get over here.” Alice was right behind me, still clapping.

“Thanks so much, Alice,” Edward said acidly, coming from behind me. I turned to voice my frustrations, but his expression was so worried and upset that I held my tongue. I sighed and wrapped my arms around his waist.

“Vegas,” Edward promised in my ear.

“Not a chance,” Alice gloated. “Beau would never do that to me. You know, Edward, as a brother, you are sometimes a disappointment.”

“Don’t be mean,” I chided her. “Just because you’re getting your way.”

“I saw your smile, Beau! Deep down you like the idea! You’re just nervous about it, and I understand why!” she was practically dancing. “We’ll talk about every single detail and I promise you’ll be the happiest groom in the world!”

I laughed. “Alright, Alice. I never thought I’d see the day where I’d be willing to take a bet against you, but it has arrived.”

She laughed her silvery laugh. “So, are you going to show me the ring?”

I jumped as she grabbed my left hand and then dropped it just as quickly.

“Huh. I saw him put it on you… Did I miss something?” she asked. She was concentrated for half a second, furrowing her brow, before she answered her own questions. “No. Wedding’s still on.”

“Beau was nervous about losing it,” Edward explained.

“What’s one more diamond? Well, I guess the ring has lots of diamonds, but my point is that he’s already got one on—“

“Enough, Alice!” Edward cut her off suddenly. The way he glared at her… he looked like a vampire again. “We’re in a hurry.”

“I don’t understand. What’s that about diamonds?” I asked.

“We’ll talk about it later,” Alice said. “Edward is right — you’d better get going. You’ve got to set a trap and make camp before the storm comes.” She frowned, and her expression was anxious, almost nervous. “Don’t forget your coat, Beau. It seems . . . unseasonably cold.”

“I’ve already got it,” Edward assured her.

“Have a nice night,” she told us in farewell.

It was twice as far to the clearing as usual; Edward took a long detour, making sure my scent would be nowhere near the trail Jacob would hide later. He carried me in his arms, the bulky backpack in my usual spot.

He stopped at the farthest end of the clearing and set me on my feet.

“All right. Just walk north for some ways, touching as much as you can. Alice gave me a clear picture of their path, and it won’t take long for us to intersect it.”

“North?”

He smiled and pointed out the right direction.

I wandered into the woods, leaving the clear yellow light of the strangely sunny day in the clearing behind me. Maybe Alice’s blurred sight would be wrong about the snow. I hoped so. The sky was mostly clear, though the wind whipped furiously through the open spaces. In the trees it was calmer, but much too cold for June — even in a long-sleeved shirt with a thick sweater over the top, there were goose bumps on my arms. I walked slowly, trailing my fingers over anything close enough: the rough tree bark, the wet ferns, the moss-covered rocks.

Edward stayed with me, walking a parallel line about twenty yards away. “Am I doing this right?” I called.

“Perfectly.”

I had an idea. “Will this help?” I asked as I ran my fingers through my hair and tugged out a few strands. I dropped them into the ferns.

“Yes, that does make the trail stronger. But you don’t need to pull your hair out, Beau. It will be fine.”

“I’ve got a few extra I can spare.”

It was gloomy under the trees, and I wished I could walk closer to Edward and hold is hand.

I dropped another hair into a broken branch that cut through my path.

“You don’t need to let Alice have her way, you know,” Edward said.

“Don’t worry about it, Edward. I’m not going to leave you at the alter or something.” The more I thought about it, I wasn’t feeling totally opposed to Alice’s idea of a beautiful wedding. Facing it head on, I was starting to think that maybe my opposition to the idea was, well, wrong.

“That’s not what I’m worried about. I want this to be what you want it to be.”

I repressed a sigh. “Stop worrying, Edward. If Alice makes good on her promise to discuss everything with me, then, I think it’ll be fine.”

“Well, even then, we can just keep it small. Just us. Emmett can get a clerical license off the Internet.”

I laughed. “There we go.” I tried to picture Emmett reading the vows, but it only made me laugh harder.

“See,” he said with a smile. “There’s always a compromise.”

It took a while for me to reach the spot where the newborn army would be certain to cross my trail, but Edward never got impatient with my pace.

He had to lead a bit more on the way back, to keep me on the same path. It all looked alike to me.

We were almost to the clearing when I fell. I could see the wide opening ahead, and that’s probably why I got too eager and forgot to watch my feet. I caught myself before my head bashed into the nearest tree, but a small branch snapped off under my left hand and gouged into my palm.

“Ouch! Oh, fabulous,” I muttered.

“Are you all right?”

“I’m fine. Stay where you are. I’m bleeding. It will stop in a minute.”

He ignored me. He was right there before I could finish.

“I’ve got a first aid kid,” he said, pulling off the backpack. “I had a feeling I might need it.”

“It’s not bad. I can take care of it—you don’t have to make yourself uncomfortable.”

“I’m not uncomfortable,” he said calmly. “Here—let me clean it.”

“Wait a second, I just got another idea.”

Without looking at the blood and breathing through my mouth, just in case my stomach might react, I pressed my hand against a rock within my reach.

“What are you doing?”

“Jasper will love this,” I muttered to myself. I started for the clearing again, pressing my palm against everything in my path. “I’ll bet this really gets them going.”

Edward sighed.

“Hold your breath,” I told him.

“I’m fine. I just think you’re going overboard.”

“This is all I get to do. I want to do a good job.”

We broke through the last of the trees as I spoke. I let my injured hand graze across the ferns.

“Well, you have,” Edward assured me. “The newborns will be frantic, and Jasper will be very impressed with your dedication. Now let me treat your hand — you’ve gotten the cut dirty.”

“Let me do it, please.”

He took my hand and smiled as he examined it. “This doesn’t bother me anymore.”

I watched him carefully as he cleaned the gash, looking for some sign of distress. He continued to breathe evenly in and out, the same small smile on his lips.

“Why not?” I finally asked as he smoothed a bandage across my palm.

He shrugged. “I got over it.”

“You… got over it? When? How?” I tried to remember the last time he’d held his breath around me. All I could think of was my wretched birthday party last September.

Edward pursed his lips, seeming to search for the words. “I lived through an entire twenty-four hours thinking that you were dead, Beau. That changed the way I look at a lot of things.”

“Did it change the way I smell to you?”

“Not at all. But… having experienced the way it feels to think I’ve lost you… my reactions have changed. My entire being shies away from any course that could inspire that kind of pain again.”

I didn’t know what to say to that.

He smiled at my expression. “I guess that you could call it a very educational experience.”

The wind tore through the clearing then, pulling at my hair and making me shiver.

“All right,” he said, reaching into his pack again. “You’ve done your part.” He pulled out my heavy winter jacket and held it out for me to slide my arms in. “Now it’s out of our hands. Let’s go camping!”

I laughed at the mock enthusiasm in his voice.

He took my bandaged hand and kissed it gently, then my other hand—freshly out of the brace—and started toward the other side of the clearing.

“Where are we meeting Jacob?” I asked.

“Right here.” He gestured to the trees in front of us just as Jacob stepped warily from their shadows.

It shouldn’t have surprised me to see him human. I wasn’t sure why I’d been looking for the big red-brown wolf.

Jacob seemed bigger again—no doubt a product of my expectations; I must have unconsciously been hoping to see the smaller Jacob from my memory, the easygoing friend who hadn’t changed everything. He had his arms folded across his bare chest, a jacket clutched in one fist. His face was expressionless as he watched us.

Edward’s lips pulled down at the corners. “There had to have been a better way to do this.”

“Too late now,” I shrugged.

He sighed.

“Hey, Jake,” I greeted him when we got closer.

“Hi, Beau.”

“Hello, Jacob,” Edward said.

Jacob nodded once, and was immediately all business. “Where do I take him?”

Edward pulled a map from a side pocket on the pack and offered it to him. Jacob unfolded it.

“We’re here now,” Edward said, reaching over to touch the right spot. Jacob recoiled slightly from his hand, and then steadied himself. Edward pretended not to notice.

“And you’re taking him up here,” Edward continued, tracing a serpentine pattern around the elevation lines on the paper. “Roughly nine miles.”

Jacob nodded again.

“When you’re about a mile away, you should cross my path. That will lead you in. Do you need the map?”

“No, thanks. I know this area pretty well. I think I know where I’m going.”

Jacob seemed to be working hard to keep his tone polite.

“I’ll take a longer route,” Edward said. “And I’ll see you in a few hours.”

Edward stared at me unhappily. He didn’t like this part of the plan.

“See you,” I murmured.

Edward faded into the trees, heading in the opposite direction.

As soon as he was gone, Jacob turned cheerful.

“What’s up, Beau?” he asked with a big grin.

I chuckled darkly. “Same old, same old.”

“Yeah,” he agreed. “Bunch of vampires trying to kill you. The usual.”

“The usual.”

“Well,” he said as he shrugged into his jacket to free his arms. “Let’s get going.”

I sighed, taking a small step closer to him. “Let’s go.” I agreed.

He bent down and swept his arm behind my knees, knocking them out from under me. His other arm caught me before my head hit the ground.

“Jerk,” I muttered.

Jacob chuckled, already running through the trees. He kept a steady pace, a brisk jog that a fit human could keep up with… across a level plane… if they weren’t burdened with a hundred-plus pounds as he was.

“You don’t have to run, Jake. You’ll get tired.”

“Running doesn’t make me tired,” he said. His breathing was even—like the fixed tempo of a marathoner. “Besides, it will be colder soon. I hope he gets the camp set up before we get there.”

I tapped my finger against the thick padding of his parka. “I thought you didn’t get cold now.”

“I don’t. I brought this for you, just in case you weren’t prepared.” He looked at my jacket, almost as if he were disappointed that I was.

“Oh. Thanks, Jake. That was sweet of you.”

He nodded slightly, distracted. “I don’t like the way the weather feels. It’s making me edgy. Notice we haven’t seen any animals?”

“Um, not really.”

“I guess you wouldn’t. Your senses aren’t as sharp as mine.”

I let that pass. “Alice was worried about the storm, too.”

“It takes a lot to silence the forest this way. You picked a hell of a night for a camping trip.”

“It wasn’t entirely my idea.”

The pathless way he took began to climb more and more steeply, but it didn’t slow him down. He leapt easily from rock to rock, not seeming to need his hands at all. His perfect balance reminded me of a mountain goat.

“What’s with the addition to your necklace?” he asked.

I looked down, and saw the crystal heart resting on my chest.

I shrugged guiltily. “Another graduation present.”

He snorted. “A rock. Figures.”

A rock? I was suddenly reminded of Alice’s unfinished sentence outside the garage. I stared at the bright white crystal and tried to remember what Alice had been saying before… about diamonds. Could she have been trying to say that he’s already got one on you? As in, I was already wearing one diamond from Edward? No, that was impossible. The heart would have to be five carats or something crazy like that! Edward wouldn’t—

“So, it’s been a while since you came down to La Push,” Jacob said, interrupting my conjectures.

“I’ve been busy,” I told him. “Besides… I’m not sure if I would have visited, anyway.”

He grimaced. “I was hoping you would have forgiven me by now.”

“It wasn’t that long ago.”

He sighed. “Been thinking about that last time a lot, have you?”

“Not the way you want me to.”

“I really am sorry, Beau. I wish there was a way I could prove that to you.” His voice was low and husky.

I felt slightly uncomfortable having this conversation under the present conditions—with his too-warm arms wrapped tightly around me and his face so close to mine.

“Did you at least think about our conversation?” he asked.

“What about it?”

“See if it affects your decision at all, I mean.”

“My decision is the same, Jake.” I sighed.

“Can I ask you something?” He said after a second.

“What?”

“Is he a better kisser than I am?” He asked, suddenly very glum.

“I really couldn’t say, Jake. Edward is the only person I’ve ever kissed.”

“Besides me.”

“I think we established that didn’t count as a kiss so much as an assault.”

“Ouch! That’s cold.”

I shrugged. “It’s the truth.”

“I’ll be apologizing for the rest of my life, huh?” He asked.

“I forgave you… mostly. It doesn’t change the way it was.”

He muttered something unintelligible.

It was quiet then for a while; there was just the sound of his measured breathing and the wind roaring high above us in the treetops. A cliff face rose sheer beside us, bare, rough, gray stone. We followed the base as it curved upward out of the forest.

“I’m not trying to sound like a broken record or something, Beau,” Jacob suddenly said, “I just think it’s pretty irresponsible.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Think about it, Beau. Like you said, you’ve only kissed one person—who isn’t even really person—in your whole life, and you’re calling it quits? How do you know that’s what you want? Shouldn’t you play the field a little?”

I kept my voice cool. “I know what I want.”

“But it couldn’t hurt to double check. Maybe you should try kissing someone else—just for comparison’s sake… since what happened the other day doesn’t count. You could kiss me, for example. I don’t mind if you want to use me to experiment.”

He pulled me tighter against his chest, so that my face was closer to his. He was smiling at his joke, but I wasn’t taking any chances.

“Behave yourself, Jake. I won’t stop him if he wants to break your jaw.”

He sighed, but he was still smiling. “Okay, but if you ask me to kiss you, he won’t have any reason to get upset. He said that was fine.”

“Don’t hold your breath, Jake.”

“You’re in a bad mood today.”

“I wonder why?”

“Sometimes I think you like me better as wolf.”

“Sometimes I do. Maybe it’s because you don’t say or do things that upset me so badly.”

He pursed his lips thoughtfully. “No, I don’t think that’s it. I think it’s easier for you to be near me when I’m not human, because you don’t have to pretend that you’re not attracted to me.”

My mouth fell open with a little popping sound. Something in the back of my head—a thought—started buzzing. I snapped my mouth shut.

He heard that. His lips pulled tightly across his face in a smile.

I took a slow breath before I spoke. “No. I’m pretty sure that’s not it.”

He sighed. “Come on, babe. Be honest with yourself. You have to know how aware you are of me. Physically, I mean.”

“How could anyone not be aware of you physically, Jacob?” I demanded. “You’re an enormous oaf who lacks respect for anyone else’s personal space.”

“I make you nervous. But only when I’m human. When I’m a wolf, you’re more comfortable around me.”

“Maybe I’m nervous because I never know when you’re going to misbehave when you’re a human.”

He stared down at me for a minute, slowing to a walk, the amusement draining from his face. His eyes narrowed, turned black in the shadow of his brows. His breathing, so regular as he ran, started to accelerate. His eyes searched mine, looking for something. He unconsciously leaned his face closer to mine.

My own breath caught for a moment, but I recovered quickly.

“It’s your face, Jake,” I reminded him.

He blinked a few times, then pulled his face back and started jogging again. “Sorry, sorry.” He laughed loudly. “I don’t really want to fight with your vampire tonight—I mean, any other night, sure. But we both have a job to do tomorrow, and I wouldn’t want to leave the Cullens one short.”

The sudden, unexpected swell of shame distorted my expression.

“I know, I know,” he responded, not understanding. “You think he could take me.”

I couldn’t speak. It was my brilliant idea had left the Cullens one short. What if someone got hurt because of it? What if one the Cullens got hurt? Or one of the wolves? Or Jacob?

“What’s the matter, Beau?” The joking bravado vanished from his face, revealing my Jacob underneath, like pulling a mask away. “If something I said upset you, I’m sorry. I was only kidding. I didn’t mean anything—hey, are you okay? Don’t cry, Beau,” he pled.

I tried to pull myself together. “I’m not going to cry.”

“What did I say?”

“It’s nothing you said. It’s just, well, it’s me. It’s my own fault. Something I did.”

He stared at me, his eyes wide with confusion.

“Edward isn’t going to fight tomorrow,” I whispered the explanation. “He’s staying with me, instead.”

He frowned. “You think this isn’t going to work? That they’ll find you here? Do you know something I don’t know?”

“No, no. I’m not afraid of that. I just… I was trying to convince him to let me go to the clearing to help distract the newborns and it backfired completely and now he’s staying with me…” I closed my eyes. “The worst part is, I didn’t convince him to not stay with me. I was selfish.”

Jacob was quiet.

I kept whispering, my eyes shut. “If anyone gets hurt, it will always be my fault. And even if no one does… It doesn’t change the fact that I was selfish. He won’t hold it against me, but I’ll always feel guilty about it. Especially since I could have asked him to go, and I didn’t.” I felt just a tiny bit better, getting this off my chest. Even if I could only confess it to Jacob.

He snorted. My eyes opened slowly, and I was sad to see that the hard mask was back.

“I can’t believe he let you talk him out of going. I wouldn’t miss this for anything.”

I sighed. “I know.”

“That doesn’t mean anything, though.” He was suddenly backtracking. “That doesn’t mean that he loves you more than I do.”

“But you wouldn’t stay with me, even if I begged.”

He pursed his lips for a moment, and I wondered if he would try to deny it. We both knew the truth. “That’s only because I know you better,” he said at last. “Everything’s going to go without a hitch. Even if you’d asked me and I’d said no, you wouldn’t be mad at me afterwards.”

“If everything does go without a hitch, you’re probably right. I wouldn’t be mad. But the whole time you’re gone, I’ll be sick with worry, Jake. Crazy with it.”

“Why?” he asked gruffly. “Why does it matter to you if something happens to me?”

“Don’t say that. You know how much you mean to me, Jake. I’m sorry it’s not in the way you want, but that’s just how it is. You’re my best friend. At least, you used to be. And still sometimes are… when you let your guard down.”

He smiled the old smile that I loved. “I’m always that,” he promised. “Even when I don’t… behave as well as I should. Underneath, I’m always in here.”

“I know. Why else would I put up with all of your crap?”

He laughed with me, and then his eyes were sad. “When are you going to figure out that you’re in love with me, too?”

“Come on, Jake, don’t ruin the moment.”

“I’m not saying you don’t love him. I’m not stupid. But it’s possible to love more than one person at a time, Beau. I’ve seen it in action.”

“I’m not Sam, Jacob.”

He wrinkled his nose, and changed the subject.

“We’re not far now, I can smell him.”

I sighed in relief.

He misinterpreted my meaning. “I’d happily slow down, Beau, but you’re going to want to be under shelter before that hits.”

We both looked up at the sky.

A solid wall of purple-black cloud was racing in from the west, blackening the forest beneath it as it came.

“Wow,” I muttered. “You’d better hurry, Jake. You’ll want to get home before it gets here.”

“I’m not going home.”

I glared at him, suddenly anxious. “The tent’s too small for you to camp with us, Jacob.”

“I’m not camping with you. Not technically—as in, sharing your tent or anything. I prefer the storm to the smell. But I’m sure your vampire will want to keep in touch with the pack for coordination purposes, and so I will graciously provide that service.”

“I thought that was Seth’s job.”

“He’ll take over tomorrow, during the fight.”

The reminder silenced me for a second. I stared at him, worry springing up again with sudden fierceness.

“I don’t suppose there’s any way you’d just stay since you’re already here?” I suggested. “If I did beg? Or trade back a lifetime of servitude or something?”

“Tempting, but no. Then again, the begging might be interesting to see. You can give it a go if you like.”

“There’s really nothing, nothing at all I can say?”

“Nope. Not unless you can promise me a better fight. Anyway, Sam’s calling the shots, not me.”

That reminded me.

“Edward told me something the other day… about you.”

He bristled. “It’s probably not true.”

“Oh, really? You aren’t second in command of the pack, then?”

He blinked, his face going blank with surprise. “Oh. That.”

“How come you never told me that?”

“Why would I? It’s no big thing.”

“I don’t know. Why not? It’s interesting. So, how does that work? How did Sam end up as the Alpha, and you as the… the Beta?”

Jacob chuckled at my invented term. “Sam was the first, the oldest. It made sense for him to take charge.”

I frowned. “But shouldn’t Jared or Paul be second, then? They were the next to change.”

“Well… it’s hard to explain,” Jacob said evasively.

“Try.”

He sighed. “It’s more about the lineage, you know? Sort of old-fashioned. Why should it matter who your grandpa was, right?”

I remembered something Jacob had told me a long time ago, before either of us had known anything about werewolves.

“Didn’t you say that Ephraim Black was the last chief the Quileutes had?”

“Yeah, that’s right. Because he was the Alpha. Did you know that, technically, Sam’s the chief of the whole tribe now?” He laughed. “Crazy traditions.”

I thought about that for a second, trying to make all the pieces fit. “But you also said that people listened to your dad more than anyone else on the council, because he was Ephraim’s grandson?”

“What about it?”

“Well, if it’s about the lineage… shouldn’t you be the chief, then?”

Jacob didn’t answer me. He stared into the darkening forest, as if he suddenly needed to concentrate on where he was going.

“Jake?”

“No. That’s Sam’s job.” He kept his eyes on our pathless course.

“Why? His great-grandad was Levi Uley, right? Was Levi an Alpha, too?”

“There’s only one Alpha,” he answered automatically.

“So what was Levi?”

“Sort of a Beta, I guess.” He snorted at my term. “Like me.”

“That doesn’t make sense.”

“It doesn’t matter.”

“I just want to understand, Jake.”

He finally met my confused gaze, and then sighed. “Yeah. I was supposed to be the Alpha.”

My eyebrows pulled together. “Sam didn’t want to step down?”

“Hardly. I didn’t want to step up.”

“Why not?”

He frowned, uncomfortable with my questions.

“I didn’t want any of it, Beau. I didn’t want anything to change. I didn’t want to be some legendary chief. I didn’t want to be part of a pack of werewolves, let alone their leader. I wouldn’t take it when Sam offered.”

I thought about this for a long moment. Jacob didn’t interrupt. He stared into the forest again.

“But I thought you were happier. That you were okay with this,” I finally whispered.

Jacob smiled down at me reassuringly. “Yeah. It’s really not so bad. Exciting sometimes, like with this thing tomorrow. But at first it sort of felt like being drafted into a war you didn’t know existed. There was no choice, you know? And it was so final.” He shrugged. “Anyway, I guess I’m glad now. It has to be done, and could I trust someone else to get it right? It’s better to make sure myself.”

I stared at him, feeling an unexpected kind of awe for my friend. He was more of a man than I’d ever given him credit for. Like with Billy the other night at the bonfire, there was a majesty here that I’d never suspected.

“Chief Jacob,” I whispered, smiling at the way the words sounded together.

He rolled his eyes.

“It’s kind of sexy.” I impulsively teased, but I regretted it immediately seeing the way he smirked in response.

“Oh, is it?” He grinned.

“I didn’t mean to give you any ideas.” I sighed.

He laughed.

Just then, the wind shook more fiercely through the trees around us, and it felt like it was blowing straight off a glacier. The sharp sound of wood cracking echoed off the mountain. Though the light was vanishing as the grisly cloud covered the sky, I could still see the little white specks that fluttered past us.

Jacob stepped up the pace, keeping his eyes on the ground now as he flat out sprinted. I curled more willingly against his chest, recoiling from the unwelcome snow.

It was only minutes later that he dashed around to the lee side of the stony peak and we could see the little tent nestled up against the sheltering face. More flurries were falling around us, but the wind was too fierce to let them settle anywhere.

“Beau!” Edward called out in acute relief. We’d caught him in the middle of pacing back and forth across the little open space.

He flashed to my side, sort of blurring as he moved so swiftly. Jacob cringed, and then set me on my feet. Edward ignored his reaction and caught me in a tight hug.

“Thank you,” Edward said over my head. His tone was unmistakably sincere. “That was quicker than I expected, and I truly appreciate it.”

I twisted to see Jacob’s response.

Jacob merely shrugged, his face looked sad to me. “Get him inside. This is going to be bad—my hair’s standing up on my scalp. Is that tent secure?”

“I all but welded it to the rock.”

“Good.”

Jacob looked up at the sky—now black with the storm, sprinkled with the swirling bits of snow. His nostrils flared.

“I’m going to change,” he said. “I want to know what’s going on back home.”

He hung his jacket on a low, stubby branch, and walked into the murky forest without a backward glance.

[ber39james]

8 More Wondrous Winter Idioms

Feeling under the weather? Walking on thin ice with your vocabulary variety? These idioms will have a snowball effect on your language use this winter. And they’re just the tip of the iceberg.

Take a chill pill

If you’re going to tell someone to calm down, why not do it in rhyme? “Chill” means a feeling of coldness, as in, “there was a chill in the air.” Sometime in recent decades, probably the 1970s, the word also came to mean “relax”—just imagine a hippie flower child flashing a peace sign and saying “Chill out, dude.”

Eventually, “Take a chill pill” emerged. It might have shown up in the early days of ADD and ADHD medications like Ritalin, which were designed to calm hyperactive folks and therefore very logically dubbed “chill pills.” Other sources attribute the origin of the phrase to 1990s slang, specifically, Buffy the Vampire Slayer. If you’re stressed about the actual origin, we’ve got one thing to say: take a chill pill.

Cold shoulder

If Cher turns her back on Dion, Dion will see Cher’s shoulder. And the act shows dismissal or indifference to Dion, so it’s pretty unfriendly, or “cold.” Boom: an idiom is born.

Some unsavory sources claim that a custom back in Shakespearean times was to serve unwelcome guests a “cold shoulder of mutton”—i.e., not the tastiest meal, and a hard-to-miss sign of “would you be so kind as to get out. Now.” But etymologists are chilly on that origin, tending to favor reports that Scottish author Sir Walter Scott coined the phrase “cauld shouther” in 1816. With that literary proof, you can turn a cold shoulder on the meat story.

Cold turkey

Let’s say you love turkey. You eat it all the time. Then, the doctor tells you it’s bad for you. You better stop eating it—right away. Really? You can’t just slowly ease off it, eating a little less turkey each day until you’re down to none? NO. No more turkey for you.

That’s called “going cold turkey”: abruptly stopping a habit that’s bad for you. People often use this term when they talk about ways to stop smoking or taking a drug, but you can also use it when you’re talking about diet or other habits. The phrase may come from addiction doctors in the 1970s, noting the “cold, clammy feel of the skin during withdrawal,” while its earlier uses (back to the 1800s) have to do with straightforward talk or a sudden occurrence.

(Note: Grammarly is not licensed to give medical opinions about turkey.)

Under the weather

Weather can be nice and sunny or cloudy and miserable. In the case of this idiom, the idea is the latter. If you’re under a raincloud, chances are you’re not going to feel 100% healthy, happy, and ready to party. So if you’re feeling sick, “under the weather” is a way to say so.

If you ever forget, just visualize getting followed around by a raincloud. That should remind you to feel sick. Etymologists believe that the first folks to say it were probably sailors in the 1800s. If you’re feeling sniffly, consider yourself lucky you’re not also on a ship at sea.

In cold blood

“In cold blood” means without mercy or emotion, suggesting that a cruel act was committed in a calculated, unfeeling way. It’s usually used pretty violently: “The victim was murdered in cold blood,” or “Darth Vader killed Obi-Wan in cold blood.”

Etymologists trace the idea to the 1700s or even 1500s. Medicine back then wasn’t exactly what it is now, so people thought that blood got hot in the heat of passion. Therefore, to do something dispassionately was to act “in cold blood.”

If you go on a diet cold turkey, you might feel like you did this to yourself in cold blood. It’s just that painful.

Snowball effect

If something has a snowball effect, that means it might start out small, but keeps growing in importance. Just picture it: a snowball is rolling down a snowy hill, and as it rolls, it gathers more and more snow, getting bigger and bigger. Next thing you know, you’re running from an avalanche.

While an avalanche is usually bad, a snowball effect can be a bad thing or a good thing. You buy an Xbox, and then a trip to Cancun, and then a car, and then go into debt: that string of purchases has a snowball effect on your finances. Bad. One black woman becomes an engineer, and she paves the way for other minorities to get similar jobs, and that creates a snowball effect that leads to equality in the workplace. Good. (Also the plot of Hidden Figures). One person protests a government, the government arrests him, then more people protest, and back and forth until the government makes reforms or gets overthrown. Could be bad or good, depending on the government. But either way, that first person started a snowball effect.

When hell freezes over

Most notions of hell are that it’s a pretty hot place to be. So the chances that it would freeze there? Pretty much zero. “When hell freezes over” is basically a way to say “never.” There are variations on the “freezing in hell” phrase, too. Here are examples of each: “I suppose you think you can go on living on [the Union] till hell freezes over.” —Guy Wetmore Carryl, The Lieutenant-Governor (the first-recorded use of the phrase was in this book in 1903) “My first writing teacher told me it would be a cold day in hell if I ever won a National Board of Review award.” –Terence Winter (writer of The Wolf of Wall Street) “I don’t think the president’s plan has a snowball’s chance in hell of succeeding.” —General James Conway

Walking on thin ice

Again, this one gives a pretty clear mental picture: you go for a walk on a lake that’s iced over, but if the ice isn’t very thick, you might crack it and fall to a shivery doom. It’s a metaphor for being in a situation that might be dangerous or lead to negative consequences. If a kid is whining a lot and refusing to go to bed, her parents might tell her, “you’re on thin ice.” If an employee has been late to work every day for two weeks and is caught asleep at his desk, he’s probably walking on thin ice with his boss. Variations include “treading on thin ice,” “skating on thin ice,” or just “on thin ice.” The idiom’s first recorded use was in 1841: “In skating over thin ice our safety is in our speed.” —Ralph Waldo Emerson, Prudence

The tip of the iceberg

Less than 10 percent of an iceberg’s mass shows up above the water’s surface. That’s why they spell disaster for a fair number of ships, including the famous, Oscar-winning Titanic, which had an accident with the mass that was lurking below. As an idiom, “tip of the iceberg” means a small or visible part of a much bigger issue, and it usually has a negative connotation. For example: Sherlock finds the first clue to a murder, but it’s just the tip of the iceberg in unraveling a grand conspiracy. A classroom is using outdated textbooks because the school can’t afford new editions. But that’s just the tip of the iceberg where funding for education is concerned. On a brighter note, in the musical words of the great cellist Yo-Yo Ma: “I’ve always thought the sound that you make is just the tip of the iceberg, like the person that you see physically is just the tip of the iceberg as well.” That may just be the tip of the iceberg where winter idioms are concerned, but now if you’re put on the spot for a frigid phrase, you’ll have more than a snowball’s chance in hell.

The post 8 More Wondrous Winter Idioms appeared first on Grammarly Blog.

from Grammarly Blog https://www.grammarly.com/blog/8-more-wondrous-winter-idioms/

[arthur36domingo]

8 More Wondrous Winter Idioms

Feeling under the weather? Walking on thin ice with your vocabulary variety? These idioms will have a snowball effect on your language use this winter. And they’re just the tip of the iceberg.

Take a chill pill

If you’re going to tell someone to calm down, why not do it in rhyme? “Chill” means a feeling of coldness, as in, “there was a chill in the air.” Sometime in recent decades, probably the 1970s, the word also came to mean “relax”—just imagine a hippie flower child flashing a peace sign and saying “Chill out, dude.”

Eventually, “Take a chill pill” emerged. It might have shown up in the early days of ADD and ADHD medications like Ritalin, which were designed to calm hyperactive folks and therefore very logically dubbed “chill pills.” Other sources attribute the origin of the phrase to 1990s slang, specifically, Buffy the Vampire Slayer. If you’re stressed about the actual origin, we’ve got one thing to say: take a chill pill.

Cold shoulder

If Cher turns her back on Dion, Dion will see Cher’s shoulder. And the act shows dismissal or indifference to Dion, so it’s pretty unfriendly, or “cold.” Boom: an idiom is born.

Some unsavory sources claim that a custom back in Shakespearean times was to serve unwelcome guests a “cold shoulder of mutton”—i.e., not the tastiest meal, and a hard-to-miss sign of “would you be so kind as to get out. Now.” But etymologists are chilly on that origin, tending to favor reports that Scottish author Sir Walter Scott coined the phrase “cauld shouther” in 1816. With that literary proof, you can turn a cold shoulder on the meat story.

Cold turkey

Let’s say you love turkey. You eat it all the time. Then, the doctor tells you it’s bad for you. You better stop eating it—right away. Really? You can’t just slowly ease off it, eating a little less turkey each day until you’re down to none? NO. No more turkey for you.

That’s called “going cold turkey”: abruptly stopping a habit that’s bad for you. People often use this term when they talk about ways to stop smoking or taking a drug, but you can also use it when you’re talking about diet or other habits. The phrase may come from addiction doctors in the 1970s, noting the “cold, clammy feel of the skin during withdrawal,” while its earlier uses (back to the 1800s) have to do with straightforward talk or a sudden occurrence.

(Note: Grammarly is not licensed to give medical opinions about turkey.)

Under the weather

Weather can be nice and sunny or cloudy and miserable. In the case of this idiom, the idea is the latter. If you’re under a raincloud, chances are you’re not going to feel 100% healthy, happy, and ready to party. So if you’re feeling sick, “under the weather” is a way to say so.

If you ever forget, just visualize getting followed around by a raincloud. That should remind you to feel sick. Etymologists believe that the first folks to say it were probably sailors in the 1800s. If you’re feeling sniffly, consider yourself lucky you’re not also on a ship at sea.

In cold blood

“In cold blood” means without mercy or emotion, suggesting that a cruel act was committed in a calculated, unfeeling way. It’s usually used pretty violently: “The victim was murdered in cold blood,” or “Darth Vader killed Obi-Wan in cold blood.”

Etymologists trace the idea to the 1700s or even 1500s. Medicine back then wasn’t exactly what it is now, so people thought that blood got hot in the heat of passion. Therefore, to do something dispassionately was to act “in cold blood.”

If you go on a diet cold turkey, you might feel like you did this to yourself in cold blood. It’s just that painful.

Snowball effect

If something has a snowball effect, that means it might start out small, but keeps growing in importance. Just picture it: a snowball is rolling down a snowy hill, and as it rolls, it gathers more and more snow, getting bigger and bigger. Next thing you know, you’re running from an avalanche.

While an avalanche is usually bad, a snowball effect can be a bad thing or a good thing. You buy an Xbox, and then a trip to Cancun, and then a car, and then go into debt: that string of purchases has a snowball effect on your finances. Bad. One black woman becomes an engineer, and she paves the way for other minorities to get similar jobs, and that creates a snowball effect that leads to equality in the workplace. Good. (Also the plot of Hidden Figures). One person protests a government, the government arrests him, then more people protest, and back and forth until the government makes reforms or gets overthrown. Could be bad or good, depending on the government. But either way, that first person started a snowball effect.

When hell freezes over

Most notions of hell are that it’s a pretty hot place to be. So the chances that it would freeze there? Pretty much zero. “When hell freezes over” is basically a way to say “never.” There are variations on the “freezing in hell” phrase, too. Here are examples of each: “I suppose you think you can go on living on [the Union] till hell freezes over.” —Guy Wetmore Carryl, The Lieutenant-Governor (the first-recorded use of the phrase was in this book in 1903) “My first writing teacher told me it would be a cold day in hell if I ever won a National Board of Review award.” –Terence Winter (writer of The Wolf of Wall Street) “I don’t think the president’s plan has a snowball’s chance in hell of succeeding.” —General James Conway

Walking on thin ice

Again, this one gives a pretty clear mental picture: you go for a walk on a lake that’s iced over, but if the ice isn’t very thick, you might crack it and fall to a shivery doom. It’s a metaphor for being in a situation that might be dangerous or lead to negative consequences. If a kid is whining a lot and refusing to go to bed, her parents might tell her, “you’re on thin ice.” If an employee has been late to work every day for two weeks and is caught asleep at his desk, he’s probably walking on thin ice with his boss. Variations include “treading on thin ice,” “skating on thin ice,” or just “on thin ice.” The idiom’s first recorded use was in 1841: “In skating over thin ice our safety is in our speed.” —Ralph Waldo Emerson, Prudence

The tip of the iceberg

Less than 10 percent of an iceberg’s mass shows up above the water’s surface. That’s why they spell disaster for a fair number of ships, including the famous, Oscar-winning Titanic, which had an accident with the mass that was lurking below. As an idiom, “tip of the iceberg” means a small or visible part of a much bigger issue, and it usually has a negative connotation. For example: Sherlock finds the first clue to a murder, but it’s just the tip of the iceberg in unraveling a grand conspiracy. A classroom is using outdated textbooks because the school can’t afford new editions. But that’s just the tip of the iceberg where funding for education is concerned. On a brighter note, in the musical words of the great cellist Yo-Yo Ma: “I’ve always thought the sound that you make is just the tip of the iceberg, like the person that you see physically is just the tip of the iceberg as well.” That may just be the tip of the iceberg where winter idioms are concerned, but now if you’re put on the spot for a frigid phrase, you’ll have more than a snowball’s chance in hell.

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