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breelandwalker · 3 months

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Strawberry Moon - June 21, 2024

Grab your baskets and your moon jars, witches - it's time for the Strawberry Moon!

Strawberry Moon 🍓

The Strawberry Moon is the name given to the full moon which occurs in the month of June in the Northern Hemisphere. The name is taken from the ripening of those little red heart-shaped berries we find in so many summertime treats. Strawberries are typically ready to harvest beginning around the summer solstice, though this will vary depending on variety, planting times, and local weather. Sadly, the Strawberry Moon does not turn red or pink to match the berries.

Other European names for this moon include Honey Moon, Rose Moon, and Mead Moon. North American Indigenous names for the June moon include Blooming Moon (Anishinaabe), Green Corn Moon (Cherokee), and Hatching Moon (Cree).

This year's Strawberry Moon also roughly coincides with the summer solstice in the Northern Hemisphere, with peak illumination occurring at 9:08pm EST on June 21st. (The solstice is occurring one day prior, on June 20th.)

What Does It Mean For Witches? 🍓

Full moons are excellent times for bringing wishes to fulfillment and plans to fruition, all the more so under one named after a prolific berry. This is an optimal time to make things happen!

Your intuition may be stronger than usual during this time, so pay attention to those little inklings and gut feelings that won't be ignored. They might be telling you something important. Dreams may also be more vivid, though not necessarily more accurate or revealing.

This is a time to explore things that catch your attention or pique your curiosity, and to let yourself be open to new ideas and new opportunities.

What Witchy Things Can We Do? 🍓

With a full moon ripening in the sky and the summer solstice upon us, it's time to prepare for a full bloom. Here's hoping you've been nurturing those plans and seeds of growth you planted in the spring, because they're about to start flowering and the way is clear to sow the next stage of your plans. What they will be and what new prospects the summer will bring is entirely up to you.

The full moon is always a good time to look ahead to the future. Think on the plans you have in process and let yourself dream of how things might turn out. If you're inclined to journaling, make a note of how things are going so far and how you hope they'll turn out. Pick your favorite divination method and do a reading for the month ahead. (Make sure you write that down too so you can check back later!)

This is a great time to go berry-picking or flower-gathering, so check your area for pick-your-own farms or farmer's markets with local produce. Have a picnic with friends or just enjoy a quiet afternoon with your own thoughts and a few favorite treats. Make a jar of sun tea or a sweet and summery berry salad. If you're partial to strawberries, indulge that sweet tooth!

Strawberries are also excellent ingredient in spells for love, beauty, fertility, and emotional healing. Create a charm for self-love or perhaps to attract a summer romance. Enchant your favorite makeup or skin care products with a glamour of confidence. Just as expectant mothers once carried strawberry leaves as a folk remedy for pregnancy pains, you can carry a clutch of them in your pocket to help heal a broken heart or assuage the pain of grief. A packet of strawberry leaves is also a potent good-luck charm. Snack on strawberries to bring fertile abundance into your life, whether you're looking for creativity or opportunity or perhaps hoping to grow your family this year.

Charge your crystals and spell jars and moon water under the light of Strawberry Moon to catch the energy of blooming flowers, ripening fruit, wishes coming true, and carefully-laid plans realized. (If you're planning to use it for any consumables, please make sure you're using fresh, potable drinking water rather than rain or runoff.)

Spend a little time reflecting on how your year has gone thus far. Try to focus on the things that have improved and how you've grown as a person and in your life journey. Reflect on your accomplishments and what you plan to do next. Take a moment to be unashamedly proud of yourself for everything you've done and for making it this far despite everything life throws at you.

Happy Strawberry Moon, witches! 🌕🍓

Further Reading:

Bree's Lunar Calendar Series

Bree's Secular Celebrations Series

The Full Moon of June: A Special Solstice Full Moon, The Old Farmer's Almanac.

Strawberry Moon Meaning: The Spectacular Full Moon of June 2024, The Peculiar Brunette.

Everyday Moon Magic: Spells & Rituals for Abundant Living, Dorothy Morrison.

Image Source - Pesto and Margaritas

(If you're enjoying my content, please feel free to drop a little something in the tip jar or check out my published works on Amazon or in the Willow Wings Witch Shop. 😊)

#witchblr #witch community #lunar magic #full moon #strawberry moon #witchcraft #summer solstice #witch tips #moon magic #lunar calendar

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emporium · 2 years

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Brick Whartley: Escape From Clawland

After his short-lived stint as Chief Officer of Viral Marketing and Exponential Growth in April, Brick Whartley spent the last nine months banished relaxing on a remote, unnamed desert island 🏝️.

But one thing about Brick, a career Businessman, is that he found it difficult to relax for long. His brain bubbled over with concepts and pitches and decks and strategies for Maximizing Engagement: he just couldn’t help it! He had ants in his pants and they were saying CLICK! CLICK! CLICK!

So he gave in to the call of the business plan.

First it started with a branding exercise: the island needed a name, didn’t it? He called it Carcinopolis, and, with the help of his crab buddies, began designing a brand identity. Unfortunately this brand identity was a total failure as people thought going to the island would give you cancer. But a nimble pivot to an alternative name—Clawland—saw the island make a big impact in the tourism industry, with people coming from all over to dance and party with the energetic inhabitants.

Tanned and trustable, Brick’s cachet soared, and he moved quickly onto his next project. The problem was that the tourists coming to visit the crabs left when the sun rose, having danced themselves tired. Sure, they had already paid the fare to get onto the island, but as Brick saw them shuffle exhausted down the dock to the boat, his intuition said that there was another Engagement opportunity he was missing in the morning light.

Then he saw a tourist scoop up a shell from the shore and put it in his pocket as he staggered away. Hey! Brick thought. You should be paying for that!

And thus, Brick’s Crab Emporium was born. Crab and beach-themed merch for every taste: crab earrings, shell ties, palm tree tees. His operation, staffed entirely by diligent crabs 🦀, began churning out products by the hundred.

Brick efficiently trained his employees to act as product managers, printers, and salescrabs. The Emporium was so successful that at a certain point it began running itself, and Brick once again grew bored. He wanted to expand once more beyond the bounds of his island.

True, every time he had tried, he had failed… but as he gazed out over the horizon, he felt the call of Tumblr once more. The dashboard would never truly leave him.

He took out his shellphone 🐚 and speed-dialed his secret but loyal connection on the inside. “Hey, buddy!” he said. “Listen, I’ve got a business proposal for you. Have you ever thought about taking your merch operation to the big-time? My man, I’ll cut you a deal: you bring me on as Chief Officer of Merchandising and Physical Object Engineering, and I’ll ship out a fleet of my elite craftscrabs and mailcrabs to help cut and glue and ship it all out 📦. At no additional cost! Now whaddya say to that??????”

#brick whartley #escape from clawland #tumblr merch

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rookthorne · 1 year

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⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂ 𝐀 𝐅𝐚𝐫𝐦𝐞𝐫'𝐬 𝐖𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐦𝐚𝐧

To foster and encourage growth, you had to first begin with a seed — a start of a new life, the beginnings of a story. It was similar to how you met your husband if only a little unorthodox, but who were you to question a newfound tradition?

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒑𝒂𝒊𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈 ☼ Farmer!Husband!Bucky Barnes x Wife!F!Reader

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒅 𝒄𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒕 ☼ 1.5k

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒘𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔 ☼ Fluff ჻჻჻ TROPES: Meet Cute

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒂𝒖𝒕𝒉𝒐𝒓 𝒏𝒐𝒕𝒆 ☼ Colton is the best wingman. Fight me.

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒂𝒏𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒎 ☼ Fire by Noah Gunderson

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒏𝒕 ☼ @buckybarnesevents Hot Bucky Summer ჻჻჻ Week 8 — "How did you meet?" — Masterlist

𝐏𝐞𝐚𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐬 ‘𝐧 𝐂𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐦 𝐑𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐡 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

The morning was crisp, and the sun was bright, the beginnings of a new, hopeful day – one that you were excited to see the outcome. It was a Sunday, and the Farmer’s Market was in full swing of being set up. Even Bucky had elected to come and help on this occasion instead of working on the farm.

“Where do you want this?” Bucky asked, large crate in hand, this one full to the brim of your famous peaches.

You pointed to the end of your table. “Over there, please,” you replied. Bucky nodded and placed the crate down with a huff. “Thank you.”

“It’s lookin’ good, sweetheart,” Bucky said abruptly, right over your shoulder. You gasped quietly in surprise and turned to stare at him. “What?”

“Stop scaring the shit outta me,” you sniped, slapping his arm. “We’ve got shit to do now, c’mon.”

Bucky sighed and continued lugging crates from the bed of the truck to the stand, all while people started flooding the square, milling about the stands of produce and haggling for bargains.

An older woman, the greying strands of hair at her temples bright under the morning sun, stopped at your stall just as you finished setting up the jars of jam. “Hey there,” you greeted, beaming at her. “What can I get for you today?”

“Just some jam, love,” she said. You nodded and collected a couple of jars just as Bucky dropped the last crate with a groan. The older woman smiled at him as he stood behind you.

“All loaded, baby,” Bucky breathed, kissing you on the cheek. You nodded and pointed to a chair, indicating he should sit for a minute (if only to get him out of the way). “Damn right ‘m gonna sit after the hard work you made me do.”

“Ignore my husband,” you breathed, shaking your head.

The older woman laughed. “How did you two meet? I’ve seen you in these parts before, and everyone loves you both.”

Bucky laughed. “It’s my damn horse’s fault, ma’am,” he said, “the bastard was gone on her from the very first second.”

You rolled your eyes as the memory flashed through your mind.

The old truck you had borrowed from a friend rumbled down the road, gravel, and stone kicking up in its wake – the bitumen long overdue for a patch job.

It did add to the charm of your small town, though. Your family had spent generations farming the land and supporting the local economy by running endless farmer’s markets – a tourist hotspot, if you did say so yourself, especially going by the recent uptick in new arrivals.

The recent overtake of Parker’s Provisions by the newcomers , May and Peter Parker, had been a successful move – both having been welcomed and adored in equal measure by the townsfolk, Peter especially. That firecracker of a young man always made your day, rain or shine, and you were looking forward to your weekly supply run for the animals back home.

Though, the sight of a horse hitched at the front of the sprawling lot of buildings that made up the Parker’s Production lot was a shock. It wasn’t often that the ranchers and farmers on the outskirt properties actually rode into town. Instead, they always elected to bring their trucks and trailers.

Your truck came to a shuddering stop when you parked, and you killed the engine, taking just a moment to marvel at the horse hitched. It was a stallion, his face soft and kind, but his body was a whole other story. Muscles rippled and twitched as he stood while waiting for his rider – the build of a Quarter Horse very much evident in the stance of the creature. A barrel or cattle mount, you couldn’t quite tell.

His coat was a chocolate brown, with splashes of white over his flanks and legs, and a thick, pretty stripe adorned his face.

You couldn’t help but feel that while he looked at you, he was staring straight into you – deep into your being to reveal secrets and mysteries you kept hidden from the world.

It was unnerving, though assuring in the way that being seen was.

The driver’s door opened with a squeak, and you slid out of the truck and into the hot summer air outside. People milled about with bags and baskets, each one waving a small hello, and you smiled back at everyone politely. A loud voice inside the closest shed told you Peter was on site today, and you smiled.

“Hey, Pete!” you called, and a brunette mop of hair peeked around the doorway.

“Hey! Just a sec, I’ll be out with you soon,” Peter yelled back, disappearing again.

You chuckled and made to step towards the stallion, hand outstretched. “Hey, handsome–aren’t you a sight, huh?” The horse snorted, twitched his ears, and stared at you. “I know it’s hot out, but you look like your rider takes good care of you.”

Slowly, the stallion stretched his head out and sniffed the air around your hand, and once he made contact, the soft skin of his muzzle tickled your palm. “You’re just gorgeous,” you breathed, scratching his chin gently.

“Well, well, well–ain’t every day he finds a Peach he likes,” a voice drawled behind you, and you startled, spinning around on the spot. “Easy, love,” the man said, hands outstretched. “No harm done.”

“I’m sorry, I just- He’s gorgeous,” you rushed, hand over your heart. The man smiled and shook his head, the movement freeing his long hair from behind his ears. Taking a second, you took in the stranger. He was wearing a white tank top that was far too tight, a plaid jacket, and a pair of light jeans with boots – his hair was half up in a bun while the other half hung around his face, sticking to his skin from the sweat of a hot day.

“He is. A good horse, too,” the man said, still smiling. He walked closer, dug into his saddle bag, and pulled out his wallet. “Aren’t you, Colton? Lettin’ a pretty Peach love on you like that, huh?”

Colton snorted and nudged your shoulder, evidently displeased you stopped paying him attention. You chuckled and pet his neck, feeling the strong muscles under his skin. “A very good horse, indeed.”

The man grinned and shoved his wallet into his back pocket, then he offered you his hand to shake. “I’m Bucky, by the way–too distracted by the fact that my asshole of a horse actually lettin’ someone near ‘im that’s not me.”

This time you laughed, shaking Bucky’s hand and offering your name in return. “It’s nice seeing a fellow rancher out and about with his prize; makes me miss having my own,” you commented, slightly wistful. It had been years since you had owned a horse.

“I honestly jus’ couldn’t be bothered goin’ back home to get my truck, and Colton needed the exercise anyway, so.” Bucky shrugged. “Best be gettin’ back inside. Stuff won’t pay for itself.”

“Okay,” you said, “I best be going in there too. I have to pick up my order.”

“Oh!” Bucky exclaimed. Then, to your absolute and utter shock, he offered you his arm. “Together then?”

“Well, alright,” you laughed, placing your arm through his. “Why not.”

It was an hour later that you strode back through the doors to your truck, arms full with bags of feed while Bucky and Peter trailed behind you with their own arms full of bags – having had offered to help you carry, and you couldn’t resist the sight of seeing Bucky’s arms bulge under the strain.

And Lord above, he did not disappoint.

“Alright, that’s it, miss,” Peter huffed, heaving a bag into the truck’s bed. “See you next week, yeah?”

“Absolutely, Pete, thanks,” you called, waving to the young man’s retreating back. You turned to Bucky, smiling. “Well, it was good to meet you, Bucky.”

Bucky grinned. “Likewise, sugar. You should come and have coffee sometime.” He turned to Colton. “I know that bastard would love it if you came and fed him some peaches or somethin’–greedy sonofabitch,” he laughed, shaking his head at the hilariously deadpan expression on his stallion’s face.

“I would love to.” The words tumbled from your mouth before you could stop them, and you inwardly sighed. So much for subtlety. “It would be great. How about tomorrow? We can have lunch.”

“Sounds perfect to me, Peach,” Bucky said happily, saluting. “You get home safe now, I’ll come pick you up tomorrow–where do you live?”

You recited your address and smiled nervously, watching as Bucky mounted Colton and turned him around. “I expect all the stops pulled out, mister,” you joked, pointing at him.

“Can’t disappoint ya, honey–promise,” Bucky joked, “see you tomorrow!”

Colton snorted and started a slow trot away, Bucky’s hand loosely holding the reins as the stallion moved away and turned a corner, out of sight.

“He’s a decent boy,” a voice said behind you, and you jumped. May was smirking at you from the office. “Always kind and sweet–should give it a go, honey, can’t hurt.”

“You’re right,” you conceded a soft smile on your lips. “Can’t hurt. He ain’t bad to look at, either.”

May laughed and waved goodbye, and you jumped back into your truck, already thinking of all the ways tomorrow could go – or how it would end.

⠈⠂⠄ 𝐢𝐧𝐛𝐨𝐱 | 𝐥𝐢𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐲 | 𝐚𝐨𝟑 ⠄⠂⠁

⠈⠂⠄𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 | 𝐜𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 ⠄⠂⠁

#bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes x f!reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x female reader #bucky x f!reader #bucky x reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes oneshot #bucky barnes imagine #hotbuckysummer2023 #rookthorne's works

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likeadeuce · 3 months

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would love to hear about "surplus if we need it" !

For Tag Game (see above):

"surplus if we need it" is the sequel to "Crosstown" (https://archiveofourown.org/works/51719059), my niche'iest fandom, based on the novel "Confidence," by Rafael Frumkin. Long story short, the MCs are 22 year old boyfriends, semi-closeted, and running an extremely disreputable stock market scam in the guise of a 'wellness startup.' Title comes from 'Riches & Wonders' by the Mountain Goats and is suitably on the nose. This fic exists for exactly 1-2 other people and Idk when it's getting finished but I have enjoyed writing it so:

I’d had a few drinks and my after-dinner edible was kicking in or I never would have said it, but I had and I did. “Are we ever going to do anything with all this money? Like, for us?”

“It’s all for us, buddy. We’re not in it for charity.” Orson didn’t look up from his laptop, where he’d been deep in a database of big-money donors to mental-health nonprofits. We had theorized it wouldn’t take much to get them to redirect some of their munificence to a couple fresh-faced boys with a shiny startup. Doing good while doing well was in the zeitgeist in northern California in 2012, and Orson was good at riding a zeitgeist, regardless of the small detail that our shiny startup, did not and, if I understood the plan correctly, never would offer a useful product or service of any kind.

“I know. I get it. Our assets aren’t liquid. We invest and we re-invest, we grow and we leverage our growth to expand our scale.” I was the CFO. It was my five-year plan. The five-year-plan would turn into a ten year plan into a thirty-year-plan, once Orson had figured out the endgame. The plans were mine but the endgame was his, and whenever I tried to talk to him about the endgame, he told me it was evolving. Knowing that we had a future, however vague, was reassuring, but it was hard to think so far ahead all the time. “I’m not talking about five years from now, or once we get it all figured out. We get to pay ourselves, and just once I’d like to pay ourselves enough to spend a week on a private beach sipping cocktails with umbrellas in them.”

Orson finally looked at me. He didn’t drink alcohol, though he basically never got judgmental when I did; he even liked having somebody who would taste whatever expensive whiskey or personal-branded tequila some potential investor wanted to impress us with. “They can put an umbrella in a vegan smoothie for you, I promise.”

That wasn’t it. “You’ve never said you wanted something like that before,” he said. “Do you think it would make you happy?”

I felt foolish. I had given absolutely no thought to private beaches or fancy drinks before the words came out of my mouth. We’d lived in California for six months and driven to look at the Pacific Ocean exactly once. It just popped in my head when I was trying to think of the kind of thing that people did when they had money and time. “I guess not.” I pulled my hoodie over my face. “Never mind me.”

And he didn’t mind me, just looked back at the computer. “What do you think Alliance for Healthy Kids does? It’s like ten million dollars to get Nickelodeon stars to make ads telling kids to eat celery instead of potato chips. Tell me that’s any less of a fucking scam than what we do.”

“Yeah, that’s pretty dumb.” He didn’t notice me rocking on the couch, pulling my knees toward my chest, thinking that of course he was right, a vacation wasn’t going to make me happy. I was supposed to be happy here, on the sun-soaked West Coast, making money with the man I loved. We had all the sex we wanted, whenever we wanted, perfected each other’s schemes, finished each other’s sentences. If I wasn’t happy here, what was there?

#fanfic #wips #wip meme

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forthesanityofstorytellers · 2 years

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Granola Bites

Basically I told my sister late one night that I wanted a snack and all I could remember about them was 'granola bites'

She decided that this sounded like a story about a crunchy vampire.

And then I short story about one.

____________________________________________________________

WC: 2,405

Day-In-The-Life narrative.

tw: mentions of blood (in packets)

Summary: Trevor's a pretty normal guy that's decided to live a crunchy lifestyle; home garden, vegetarian, makes his own meals, a little stall at the local outdoor market, a book that he's working on and a complimentary blog. Oh. And he's a vampire.

Sunlight. It streamed over the land and covered the garden, stretching its fingers over the small cabin-like house in the middle of the suburbs. The golden fingers slipped through the closed shutters, over the couch, and began flicking at my nose. I woke up with a thunderous sneeze that catapulted me to the floor, and found myself struggling with an oddly-confining jacket under the redwood table. After a moment of sleep-deprived panic, I won the confrontation and peeked around at the clock pressed against the wall.

Shoot. It was a bit past feeding time.

I wormed my way to a standing position, left the villainous outerwear to sulk on the floor until tomorrow morning, and made my way out to the garden.

The green plants celebrated the sun, and I joined them for a moment. The sun was warm on my skin as I stood, breathing in the morning air before going about my day. The bell peppers were finally ready, the tomatoes juicy red, and the ears of corn seemed to wave like volunteers for harvest. Gathering them into small bundles, I brought them into the kitchen to rest and went out for a second round. Going straight to the back of my garden, I took a moment to talk to my beanstalks, admired them for their growth and thanked them for their contribution. Then I knelt and began to dig them up by the roots.

Escorting the bundles back into my kitchen -- and trying to ignore the giant dirty boot prints smearing dark mud across the linoleum tile -- I set to stripping the roots from each beanstalk, cleaning all my products, and getting them ready for both farmer’s markets I was to attend later in the day. Hunger began to set in as I worked, so I grabbed a couple of spare roots I kept in the freezer and began to chow down.

Ugh, the taste wasn’t exactly what I wanted. Metallic yet smooth, with a tiny bit of sweetness as an aftertaste. I needed something to drown it with. Another trip to the fridge produced a large cup full of green chalky liquid, and I downed it in just a few gulps. Sweet, sweet chlorophyll. The smooth taste was welcome after the metallic hemoglobin, and it went down easily thanks to the coconut water mixed in. The pairing of chlorophyll and coconut water was a great substitute for blood.

Oh, right. I’ve been living with it so long, I often forget not everyone knows about us.

Hi. The name’s Trevor. I’m a chlorophyre which, at its core, is a ‘vampire’ that lives on chlorophyll instead of hemoglobin. I used to be a vampire, but ever since I found out there were other, healthier ways of living, I decided to take a more natural approach to life.

I finished cleaning the greens, packaged them in little baskets, and stacked them in brown paper bags which then made it into my Hybrid car. I took the few veggies and beans to my stall out at the local farmers market and set up shop.

The humans were nice, as usual. A good number of lookie-loos, a handful of loyal buyers, and I even managed to convince one or two new faces to buy a basket of beans. It was a long day, made even longer with the knowledge I had committed to this booth for the next two days as well. I may have technically been a member of the ‘un-dead’ but that didn’t mean I enjoyed derelict houses or used familiars to do my work for me. The weekends at the farmer’s market helped pay my bills.

When time was up, I began cleaning my booth and storing things away while my neighbors did the same. We swapped stories about harvesting, soil prep, and the latest news on governmental damage in relation to agriculture and the environment. We traded farewells, knowing we’d see each other the next morning, packed the last of our unsold wares into our cars and drove off.

I made sure my veggies were safely stored away at home before going about my day; buying new seeds, working home-made compost into my soil, looking up the latest in natural pesticides. I couldn’t take too long, as I only had a few hours between markets. My second booth was scheduled to be set up right after sundown, and by the time I finished my daily chores, the sun was starting to drop below the horizon. I had to hurry.

I gathered up all the leaves and stalks of my plants and worked them, getting out all the chlorophyll I could manage and dividing the results between green-tinted eight ounce glass bottles. Then I removed the fresh root clusters from the fridge and bundled them, the fraying hemp rope scratching at my fingers. The cabinets above the sink held generous supplies of coconut water, which I removed and mixed with half of the chlorophyll bottles. Gotta create a good example of each product, after all.

The last step was to make sure all my pamphlets were in order, each one printed on eco-friendly paper with biodegradable ink. They contained information regarding a plant-based alternative to blood, and explained it in more detail than I could manage in the short time I was at my booth. It was definitely better than it sounded, but most vampires wouldn’t understand why green was better if it wasn’t explained properly. I had my work cut out for me, to be sure, but I deeply believed in chlorophyrism and wanted to get the word out to as many as I could.

Packing up my nightly wares, I got back in my Hybrid and took off for the Night-Market, a farmer’s market for nocturnal-based creatures. Parking in my regular spot, I gathered my things and began down the secret forest trail leading to the bridge where the market was held. Apparently, even under the cover of darkness, our gatherings must be veiled in secrecy and subterfuge.

I set up shop like normal, putting out my pamphlets and products and ignoring the jokes at my expense. I’d been doing this long enough to know responding in kind got me nowhere. The other vendors knew my product and knew where I stood on the matter, and so long as they didn’t upturn my booth or break my stuff, I wouldn’t burn their coffins in the middle of the day.

Instead of sinking to their level, I waved to the werewolf across the bridge selling distilled Wolfsbane pills. Apparently she had managed to figure out a formula able to reverse the werewolf curse for a limited time. I’d never seen it work in person, but she had plenty of regulars. The she-wolf must have been doing something right.

The market opened. Night-creatures began to pour in from all sides. Blood-suckers bought packets from the vampire vendors. The she-wolf’s regulars padded in, panting for her antidote. There were bottled nightmares, brain samples, animal parts, and a couple of the booths even sold ‘deals’. I was never quite sure what ‘deals’ were sold, but I didn’t try to find out.

A couple of curious vampires stopped by my booth. “What’s up with this?” one of them asked while sucking on a sample packet. “Is this a joke?”

The other one leaned in and whispered, “Vampire-hippie. Walk away slowly.”

“It’s nothing like that,” I said with a forced smile, sliding one of the pamphlets across to them. “Vampirism has its place in the world, I guess, but have you ever wondered if there was a better way?”

One of them looked like she couldn’t care less, but the other peered at the pamphlet and seemed to be listening.

“I mean, sure: drinking the blood of others has sustained us for a good long while. I’m not saying it hasn’t. But the world was...different back then. Less chemicals in the blood, less preservatives in the food.” I gestured towards the shrinking blood sample, which was now leaking in the corner. “Do you know how much more monoxide is in human blood these days thanks to burning gasoline and oil, as opposed to 100 years ago?”

The packet-drinker shrugged. “Nope. But if that’s true, why not just drink animal blood?”

“They’re inhaling the same air, for one thing,” I stated. “But if we all switched to drinking animals, do you know how badly that would impact the environment? It would take years to breed enough animals for them to be a sustainable alternative for all of our kind...not to mention there’d be competition from all sides.” In answer to the sarcastically-quirked eyebrow, I gestured around to a few of the other booths. “Vampires aren’t the only ones that feed on animals.”

The one reading the pamphlet finally spoke up. “So how is this any different?” she asked. “What’s the catch?”

“Ah, that’s the best thing,” I said, holding up a small glass bottle. “There is no catch. Drinking from plants instead of people is a much more sustainable alternative; you can grow your own food, so you don’t have to worry about things like cameras and cell phones tracking your movements. There’s more than enough soil to use, either out in a garden or in a potted plant, and you don’t have to worry about soil erosion so long as you rotate and feed the plants properly. And best of all, you know exactly what’s going into your food: because you’re putting it there.” I gestured to the ever-shrinking blood packet. “Do you have any idea what kind of life your food was living? How much blood-poisoning might have happened?” I looked back to the other one. “Using plants, you don’t ever have to worry about it again.”

The two glanced at each other. The blood-sucker shrugged her shoulders. “It’s not like I’d catch any of their diseases. Plus, this sounds like a lot more work.”

But the other one had picked up a bottle and was looking it over. “It’s not any more work than hunting down human prey in this digital age,” I said. “Plus, the switch is easier than ever with our root bundles.”

The blood-sucker was looking away, her packet nearly empty. She was clearly debating if she wanted to go back to the vendor a few booths down and purchase a couple packs for the fridge. But the other one looked up at me. “Root bundles?”

I nodded. “Did you know that the legume plant has nodules that produce the exact same substance as blood?” She peered at the bundle of roots, fingering one of the small gnarled ends. I could see she was interested, but unsure what her companion would say. I nudged her a little more and told her that the movement I was a part of had a small online presence. If she wanted to give me her general whereabouts or territory, I could have a representative stop by and give her more information. She shrugged and wasn’t sure, so I suggested she take my card and come back the next night to take another look at the nodules. I offered her a small sample root bundle as compensation for her listening ear, and as a little something to snack on when she had the time.

She seemed grateful for the offer and accepted, slipping the small bundle into her coat along with my card before spinning around to join her companion. They loudly mocked the chlorophyre movement as they left, and I later spied the two buying a generous supply of packets from the vampire two booths down.

I didn’t mind. I may not have gotten a chance to tell them about the side-effects, how drinking chlorophyll was like drinking a natural sunscreen, how it converted sunlight into energy like the plants, but that was something I saved for customers showing a genuine interest. Vampires generally don’t believe that part of the deal, and I can’t blame them. The first chlorophyre I saw was met with equal cynicism, and I didn’t believe the movement until I tried it for myself. Anyway, it isn’t easy to make the switch from ‘acceptable’ to healthy, especially when clan pressure is involved. Said pressure is one of the reasons I now lived on my own.

A few more vampires came over during the night. A few more mocked my products openly or over their shoulders. Another couple passed by and stopped, familiar faces that wanted to purchase another bundle and learn more about growing their own. We talked while I gathered their order, and I found out that they prowled an alley a couple streets down from where I lived. With a smile, I offered them to stay at my place for a bit. They could learn more about growing their own food, and my house was definitely safer than the streets.

Soon the sun was on its way up, and all the booths were dismantled. I packed up what I had left and headed to my Hybrid, wondering if that couple had made their way to my house yet. I wondered if the two vampiresses from earlier in the night would come back. I loved talking to an open mind, something startling hard to find in the underworld. I got behind the wheel and drove, wondering once again what the she-wolf’s Wolfbane pills actually did for werewolves, or why they’d take an antidote in the first place.

I got back home and brought everything inside. I grabbed from my personal stash of chlorophyll, drinking it down as I laid out on the couch and enjoyed the slight tinge of rum added to the mix. It may not have had the same effect on me as it once did, but the flavor was still a nice addition. I stared at the ceiling, the full moon making silver tracks through the darkness, and contemplated the night. There was still some gardening I could do, but there was also online marketing to work on, a seminar on Essential Oils to watch, and more information to gather for the book I was planning on self-publishing later this year. One of the added benefits to being a healthy chlorophyre meant working in the day and the night, as my body no longer required sleep to function. I stared at the ceiling, sipped my drink, and wondered which of my projects to work on next.

#my writing #Granola Bites #short story #short stories #writeblr #Trevor the vampire #Trevor the vegan vampire #vegan vampire

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mariamariquinha · 2 years

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Bossa Nova (Benny ‘Borracho’ Magalon x f!reader) - Four

Three | Five

Summary: Sometimes you hated the workings of your mind; it just didn't compare to how your job works.

Word count: 3.820

Warnings: Bad words, a bit of angst, insecurity, low self esteem, talks about cheating, talks about sexism, slight mention of violence, a pinch of flirting, mention of body parts and... I guess that’s it.

Author’s Note: YES! It happened! I’m really happy to share, it took me soooo long to write this.

Oh and I’m adjusting my posts given the new Tumblr’ updates, don’t worry. The light will shine and I’ll be able to be happy again!

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!

Join my taglist! Don’t forget to reblog, comment and like! As always, I would love to know what you’re all thinking! ❤

****

Los Angeles had an average population of 3.8 million. With a population growth of 0.7% a year and with one of the worst traffic in the world, you could probably say that coincidences were an improbability. Hardly a high school friend would say that they saw you by chance on the street if you lived in LA.

You liked these stats because they gave you security and a minimal chance of dealing with unpleasant encounters. You grew up around Cali, so a lot of people, a lot of things going on at the same time… it was more advantageous to go after celebrities in West Hollywood or Beverly Hills or on the way out of movie studios. If you wanted it, that is.

But you had to go to the farmers market that day – Fairfax District, it was in your neighborhood, sometimes you took advantage of paying so much for a house there. It was your father's insistence, to go there to buy fruit and, as he said, important food – accepting wasn't that hard, spending time with him was always good.

She was beautiful. A shorter, more streamlined version of Charlize Theron because despite not having the long legs, she had the smile, hair, and gaze of a woman of that caliber. You knew every possible detail about her because you did your research, in a much more difficult time when things were… different. Complicated. Aileen, that was her name. The ‘Aileen’ who traveled to Ireland every year because her family came from there. The ‘Aileen’ who had a perfect Pinterest with pictures of her apartment in Santa Monica and the time she visited a mansion in Bel Air – the only time you did that was in a case of the theft of golden statues of the Grinch. The ‘Aileen’ who turned out to be… her.

She wasn't the type to complain about the size of the kitchen window, probably because people naturally made things easier for her, more optimistic. It was easy to be like that when life privileged her in the right way. You weren’t like this. You complained about that damn window because Theodore never helped you clean the house, and from the beginning he chose a place that size, with that giant window, that he clearly wouldn’t move a finger to maintain.

When you saw her from a distance, you thought it was an illusion, that the sun was too hot and made your mind trick you somehow. It wasn't until the second glance, with narrowed eyes and your attention more focused, that you realized it was Aileen, standing at an organic food stall and looking at the products unpretentiously. It's okay, you thought, she must not even know who you are.

It was very quick, discreet, and you were soon blinking a few times to distract yourself from the sight when your father returned with suggestions for an eggplant lasagna. If you looked a third time, she wouldn't be there anymore, and you could finish shopping without worrying about bumping into the woman.

Still, it was her. Out of 3.8 million people, you ended up seeing Aileen; THE Aileen, who was so much better when she was just a faceless name. Of course she was a delicate, smiling woman, with all her features perfectly traced by God and who didn't get her hair tousled by the wind – as beautiful as in a Dior perfume campaign.

It looked silly. No, it was definitely nonsense. There was no reason to feel anything but indifference.

… Right?

****

It was kind of random, actually, like your mind took you by surprise. A bad habit crawling your skull, your brain, your mind.

First you put on your panties and bra. Black, enough to hold your breasts and keep you comfortable. Functional. You paid attention to what you saw in the reflection – your arms, thighs, belly, cleavage, face. Everything looked normal. Reasonable. You've never been one to go to the gym like crazy, even though you sometimes used your LASD credential for it, and the main reason you lost a little weight was because of the whole diet situation and all. You were healthy (with a bit of a stretch here), some would even say ‘cool’ with that tattoo on your left thigh that made any mom (including yours) freak out because it was so big; this goes from your thigh to your ribs! And what does a dragon mean anyway?

Standing there, post-bath and in your most natural state, you ran your fingers through your hair, then tugged at the skin of your face as if to find something there. Turned around, stared at your ass, then the other tattoo you had on the back of your neck, hidden most of the time. In the process, you slipped your finger on your skin and found a discreet scar on your shoulder blade, left side, that gave you memories of a time that seemed a lifetime ago.

“Theo! Theo, what are we doing?” You were laughing a little breathlessly, your hand sweaty with your fingers locked in Theodore's, who was pulling you down the sidewalk with nimble, quick steps, ready for some partially illegal atrocity.

“Relax, we're almost there. You’ll like it,” His voice whispered, fetching, a reflection of a behavior well out of the way that was part of who he was. Terrible, sagacious, agitated.

You've always liked different things, curiosity would almost eat you up inside, especially for things no one could prove: aliens, ghosts, the Bermuda Triangle, the truth about JFK. Theodore said he liked that about you, it made you unique. That night, you escaped from a birthday party that you had a time to get back from – eleven o'clock. There was an aura of danger and adventure to it all, especially since it was almost midnight and you two should have been home by now. Eighteen years old, these things could happen.

You stopped at a 'haunted' house that was about two blocks away from the party. It was big, your typical horror movie set with dumb protagonists, but you were excited.

With an opening hole in the wire fence surrounding the place, you had to duck through the cut wire, but your clumsiness resulted in a discreet cut. You hissed. Theodore noticed and gently, right there in the weird backyard of that ghastly place, he kissed the bruise, then your cheek, then your mouth.

You got home around two. Your mom just didn't ground you for more than two days because you were packed for Berkeley – not just with your stuff, but with the memory of something you held inside your heart for as much as you could.

You stared at the bedroom door with a deep frown, the tips of yours rubbing with some delicacy against the flesh of your thighs. No, it wasn't right. It shouldn't be like that. Aileen was a fucking ghost for so long and then she… She wasn't even guilty and it was an involuntary feeling; like fingers squeezing your insides, choking, testing one of the few truly authentic things in your life. Her fingers. Theo fingers.

Felt like a fresh cut even though it was all gone so long ago, a scar that opened at the first hint of memory of those terrible times – you even hated Theodore, but you hated more the idea of standing there, in the middle of your own bedroom, with a lump in the throat and reliving a sensation that was hardly allowed to be felt, when more important things were happening.

The guilt, the lack of effort, the questions about where you went wrong when it wasn't really mistakes but choices. No, it really wasn't how it was supposed to be. You should have the resilience you held on to, the wisdom to take every step rationally, to just move on and not treat Aileen like a tormentor – a symbol that aroused your envy because she took something from you.

No, you thought for the third time, rubbing the skin of your face with your palms. She didn't take anything from you. He left. He was wrong. He chose. He made you small in your form as a woman. She… participated. As an accomplice. A partner.

“It’s always about your job! I don’t need a roommate, I need a woman! An accomplice! A partner! How can I find my happiness if you can’t even be the fucking wife you’re supposed to?!”

You clenched your fists tightly and took a deep breath. The thought inevitably made you angry.

****

Conference room. Important manner.

For those new to the Department, Emma's behavior could be classified as 'absent' or 'volatile', much like a divorced father who has left and only appears every two years. She had a broader view of the work, made people more comfortable but never enough to break rules, even if she didn't agree with all of them; she was a progressive. Her parents went to Woodstock and she participated in pro-turtles protests – that was her way.

The email that popped up on your computer just said that. By protocol, there was a 'meeting' written in the subject box, accompanied by a very succinct text: time, place, level of urgency. An economy of words, as if they were too rare to be spent on long informative paragraphs.You liked that about her. Still, with your acquaintance, you knew each other well enough to know that the situation required attention, so you checked your watch so you wouldn't be late; hoping that wasn't a problem related to Travis.

****

It was a problem.

A big one.

Not related to Travis at all.

And to be quite honest, it had been a mistake for you to think that the situation with Walsh would end that day. That's what you said to Emma when you saw the agent sitting next to his supervisor, as well as Lieutenant Brixton from Internal Affairs. It was a replay of what had happened the last time the confrontation between you two got to that point and judging by the way Mathias was serious, the situation fell more on him – this time, at least.

“We have a strict protocol on working together between agencies, especially in cases like the one we're dealing with right now,” Brixton started from his spot at the end of the table. “As the two of you have a history of conflict, I'd like to draw attention to an episode that occurred a few weeks ago and came to my knowledge recently.”

That made you frown at Emma, who just shook her head discreetly – later, she meant.

“The reason for this meeting is to come to an agreement on how to handle the situation going forward. I've heard from agent Walsh's side, it's not my place to correct his behavior but it's my obligation to remind him that we have this integration policy that deserves to be respected, especially with regard to our female employees.”

What your boss didn't say, Brixton took advantage of it and followed the ‘protocol’ bit by bit. This included extensive speeches at the lectures they concocted about sexism in the workplace, for example. It was kind of pointless, things were still happening and you were sure the DEA followed the same bureaucracy and there you were, dealing with Mathias.

“So, agent, why don’t you tell us what happened that day?”

You? Oh, yeah. Right. What happened that day.

You blinked a few times before clearing your throat, looking at Emma, then Walsh and his supervisor. The story slipped out of your mouth easily, at least until the memory of the little confrontation taking place.

“From what it says here, was it your day off?”

“Not exactly,” You shook your head. “I only needed a few hours. Personal issues.”

“Your divorce?”

“... Yes.”

“I'm just asking to verify the situation, I don't want to embarrass you or…”

“That’s okay,” Your answer came as fast as he started his excuses. Brixton nodded, got back to his papers and you crossed your arms over your chest.

“Does Detective O'Brien have the autonomy to request your services?”

“Periodically, yes.”

“And do you know if he ever informed agent Walsh about this addition to the investigation team?”

“No.”

Mathias shifted uncomfortably in his chair, you saw it in your peripheral vision.

“Nick usually asks for her as a matter of professional affinity, they have been working together for some time and this has never interfered with the results of parallel investigations she was working on,” Emma complemented with a certain care, finding the necessity to explain her position.

“We all know detective O'Brien's reputation in this regard but I warn you that it wouldn't be ideal for this to become a habit.”

“I’ll make sure of it,” She said with a nod.

“Now, agent, did the situation with agent Mathias Walsh affect you in any way? Did you feel attacked, perhaps… Morally harassed in some way?”

You had the answer to that question on the tip of your tongue, between the memory of you leaving the scene and that pathetic moment of crying in the bathroom. So you hesitated, pressed your lips together and looked at Mathias again.

“Considerably.”

“How so?”

“I believe that my personal life should not be used as an argument in the situation,” Your eyes were on Brixton again. “And despite our differences, at no point that day did I speak to Agent Walsh or direct any offense towards him. Furthermore, he insinuated that my affinity for Detective O'Brien and his team had a sexual connotation.”

Connotation. Big, big word.

“Do you feel threatened by him?”

“No.” This answer came more assertively.

“Do you think you could continue the work eventually without major problems?”

“For me, yes,” And you increased that 'me', because you wanted to redirect the question to the said Mathias, who was always the main one bothered by everything. “Unless he uses his personal opinions to harass me again. Then no.”

“Right…” Brixton wrote something down in silence and you all waited for him just as quietly. He read a few more things, frowned, then raised his head at you while speaking. “What about detective Magalon?”

You frowned.

“What about him?”

“He witnessed what happened. Was he ever defensive, did he react in any way? Violently?”

It didn't take a genius to put things together, and even your distracted mind was able to understand what the point was; that meeting wouldn't have happened if Benny hadn't been there and if that punch (that had nothing to do with you) had never existed. You almost believed that your well-being would make a difference.

Emma must have noticed this too because she was visibly annoyed.

“No, not at all. Everything he did was exactly as I said.”

“Riiiiight,” He repeated the word, this time saying it while writing more things down.

The conversation didn't go beyond that and after an hour, you were conditioned to see Mathias leaving the building with his supervisor with an impressive number of 0 words for you. Emma stayed behind to chat something with Brixton, so you waited in the hallway for the two of you to be alone and you started asking questions.

“I think we had good impressions today,” She said first, gesturing to the elevator nonchalantly. “But, you know, it’s always about the guys.”

“I noticed.”

“Honestly, I thought this story with Magalon was gossip, but it looks like the repercussions were pretty significant.”

“Do you know what happened between them?”

“They’re men, anything could lead into a fight,” You saw her pressing the call button with a discreet smile. “I thought you had some idea, considering your proximity to them.”

Them being Major Crimes. Huh. That shit again.

“You were the one who told me that I should be careful to maintain a professional relationship with them. Benny never was… Open, I guess. He keeps his distance.”

“It's amazing to know that you listen to me.”

You both entered the elevator, which was fortunately empty. She sighed with a defeated stance, leaning on one of the corners.

“Anyway, I think this served as a warning,” Emma said after a beat of silence and you stared dumbly at her, waiting for an elaboration. “I should have encouraged you to talk to Internal Affairs, not just scolded you. Sometimes I talk so much about female support that I forget I have the power to help in any way and… Well, having to hear that one of Nick's guys took the step was a slap in the face.”

This left you even more confused, if not perplexed.

“... What do you mean?”

“Huh?”

“By Nick’s guys. Who told the Internal Affairs about what happened?”

“Benny did. Just today, Brixton went to talk to Gina, he wanted to know…”

As much as you would have liked to know more details, no other words from her made sense or even entered your ears. You weren't that veteran in the business, but you were sure that Nick's instructions about you extended to everyone on the team. Not that you thought Benny would face any reprisal for what he did to Walsh, but of all the issues that could go through your day, having a meeting like that and still knowing that it was on Magalon's instructions, it was confusing to say the least.

Yeah, confusing. That was quite a word.

****

“Can we talk?”

It wasn't like every interaction with Benny was an issue, but suddenly you were afraid to bring it up, especially when the said issue was that. With any luck, you had managed to catch up with him before he left for the night and after a whole day of thinking, you decided to give it a try. Henderson was beside him and looked as surprised as his partner. You glanced at the two of them, not wanting to say that you preferred it to be a private conversation, but Benny understood and said he'd meet his friend at the bar – for some reason, you waited for Henderson to disappear from your sight in the parking lot after kissing his cheek goodbye. Just to be sure.

“Are you okay?”

You raised your eyebrows and nodded, adjusting the hem of your shirt that went up with the farewell. Looked like every conversation you’d been having with him started like that.

“Mm-hm. Yeah, I… There’s something I want to ask you, if you don’t mind.”

“Not at all. What’s up?” He shifted from foot to foot, a bit concerned at your hushed tone.

“Brixton called me to a meeting today, he wanted to talk about what happened with Walsh that day. You know, from the liquor store,” It was a rather useless insinuation, Benny was already expressing recognition when you mentioned Brixton's name.

“Emma told you?”

“Yeah.”

“Are you mad at me?”

The question took you a little by surprise – no, very much by surprise. You'd expect a more heroic reaction, something like 'I did you a favor' or something, but no. Benny looked worried.

“... No! No, I’m not, I mean…”

“I didn’t want to assume, just-”

“It’s okay, it’s okay.”

“You can tell me if you’re mad.”

“I’m not, promise.”

You two stumbled with your words for a moment, both determined to make assurances with phrases being spilled faster than your thoughts, basically. He clapped his mouth shut when you raised your hands to put an end in the babbling, obliging for the sake of giving you the word.

“It just caught me by surprise, like, you didn’t need to. I just thought it was risky for you, given the circumstances.”

“What circumstances?”

And you didn’t know he was teasing you or demanding that you say what was implied in words, but without a shadow of a doubt there was no questioning on the way he asked. You considered not saying anything, just shrugging your shoulders and muttering a 'you know', but Benny shifted on his foot again, patiently waiting.

“You literally punched the guy in the face,” Defeated, your shoulders relaxed while you gesticulated at him. “I’m sure he made it clear to Internal Affairs.”

“He did.”

“As I said.”

“But I don't think it was a risk.”

Like in the lab, you stared at each other for a while, but he decided to break contact first with a pinch to his nose, turning his head to the side with a chuckle. That's when you realized you must have been carrying a grimace during the whole interaction; a frown, mouth partially open not knowing what to say.

“The danger was throwing the punch and this already happened. That day, I saw the way he spoke to you, how hurt you were. I know it's none of my business, and again, I apologize for that, but I should have said something, defended you.”

That shouldn't have made you back down like it did. That just shouldn't. Because it wasn't like he was putting himself in an alpha male position; it sounded more like regret for just not saying something to stop Mathias.

It came from a place of chivalry, you thought, not authority.

“You did enough,” Your voice was steady, even if a little too soft, and a smile played on your lips – maybe the first real one since you woke up. “Thanks.”

“When I said ‘gotcha’ I meant that. No worries here. Besides, this sort of thing is for princes who rescue pretty ladies and I'm really not that kind of guy. I did what I should do.”

“Oh,” You scoffed. “Okay, right.”

“What? Don’t you believe me?”

“Your analogy was interesting, that’s all.”

“An analogy is an example of things,” He twisted his mouth and shook his head. “Consider this a joke. The ones that have a basis of truth.”

“You just don't strike me as the type who aspires to be a prince.”

“But I like helping pretty ladies like they do.”

Once again, that shouldn't have made you back down, but you felt your cheeks burn at the comment he made, not least because he was watching you closely, gauging your reactions. That was subtle, understated, and he didn't move to be invasive in any way. Benny waited.

“I need to go,” He pointed behind his shoulder, already taking a step away. “Before you thank me for that, lemme say your tattoo is really cool. You are really polite, at least save the thanks for someone else.”

Your… Oh. Oh. You absently placed your palm where your shirt had riled up minutes before, right on the top of your tattoo.

Without saying anything, you watched the man walk to his car as if nothing had happened and discreetly raised your hand as he waved his in the distance.

“... Thanks,” Your murmured anyway, Benny already out of the ear sight.

****

No pressure tags

@cheesybadgers

@paintlavillered

@sexuallover

@nerdyreaderpapi

#benny borracho magalon #benny magalon x reader #benny magalon fic #den of thieves #den of thieves fic #maurice compte

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dru-plays-starbound · 2 years

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Tales of the Starbound: The Old-Timer's Tale

Universe: Starbound CW: Alcohol, Fantasy religion Words: 1,616 Context: This was written during NaNoWriMo 2015, part of a collection of short stories called "Tales of the Starbound". I decided to re-write each story individually. Note: I'm using "Deosil" (towards the sun) to mean the left-hand side of the screen, since cardinal directions don't work in-game. Or read on AO3

Warm sunlight filtered down from a lavender sky filled with puffy pale clouds. The old avian shook out his yellow plumage before settling onto the worn bench, listening to the market traders as they hawked their wares to passing customers. A bracing breeze caused the banners above him to flutter and snap, but the bench was a lovely little suntrap – warm and sheltered on this clear spring day. The avian gave a contented sigh, his eyes fluttering shut. Far better for his aching bones, he mused, than the wintry chill and drenching rain.

"Quihui! Warm greetingsss, birdman." The avian cracked an eye to see a floran grinning broadly down at him. He smiled back. "Wandangi. A pleasure to see you, dear. You're looking wonderfully bushy today." The floran crinkled xir eyes, preening at xir brown and blue leaves. "Thank you. Many floran in bloom right now. Is good season." "Indeed. The sun is kind to all of us today. Would you like to sit and photosynthesise a little?" Wandangi's grin faded, and xe shook xir head. "Ah! Floran too restless. Another day we will contemplate growth together, yes? Today, floran take Ulf on hunt – feel the wind in our leaves." Quihui cooed in disappointment. "Another day then. Good hunting." Wandangi stroked over xir head growth, collecting pollen on xir hand to smear on Quihui's beak. "Floran will ssstab many things in your honour!" xe crowed.

Quihui felt heat flood his feet as Wandangi wandered off, sing-songing, "Stabby, shabby, stabby!" Had Wandangi, Quihui wondered, discovered his feelings for xem? Was xe making xir intentions known by dedicating xir hunt to him? He ducked his head, preening at his arm feathers. No – it was too fanciful. There was no way Wandangi could know that painting an avian's beak was a declaration of intent… At the sound of more greetings being called, he pushed away his fancifulness, raising a hand to Minera, the barkeep of the Diamond and Pear, as the cyan novakid crossed paths with Chef Zyanitl.

The hustle and bustle of the market hardly slowed as the sun reached the zenith of its slow pendulum. Quihui rose and hobbled over to Devon Dyson's stall, selecting a bowl of curried beakseed and carrot juice as he chatted to Devon about her business. Over lunch, he was joined by the alpaca, Caden the Axe, and Nuttrace, one of Lord Brasscrank's guards. After the two guards had said their farewells, Quihui pulled out a book and relaxed back to read.

As the golden pendulum fell, turning lilac to mauve, the market traders began to pack up their stalls. The shouts and calls of the market folk nearly drowned out a soft cough, as a dark figure slid onto the bench next to Quihui. "What have your keen eyes seen this day, revered flightless?" "Good day, Aly," Quihui said to the red lenses glinting from under the shroud. "It's been busy. Lots of traders from 'Tahnt Rise, many browsing faces I don't recognise." "Indeed, exalted watcher. I have heard tell of more construction work happening deosil of Lady Caseswing's great home." Quihui stroked down his blue chest piece, gazing out at the softly rolling hills, dotted with sweet meadow flowers. "Her ladyship has been more planet-side of late. Perhaps she has grown weary of adventure and wishes to settle instead." "Mayhaps she is also making good on a promise; many of those newest to Virla come claiming her Ladyship offered them a home here. With such an offering, she needs must back it up with production." Quihui murmured in agreement. "Our Lady is gaining quite the generous reputation across the stars." The calls of the traders trailed off as they filtered away, back to their homes. "A pleasant eve to you, exalted watcher," Aly said when only a few traders lingered. The shadowed figure stood, brushing down their robes. "Light of Kluex guide your way," Quihui murmured as Aly disappeared into the encroaching darkness.

With a pained grunt, the old avian gained his feet and followed the general stream of traffic up the terraces, heading towards Minera's bar.

~~~

It was early still as Quihui shuffled into the Diamond and Pear, with only the regular barflies hovering around. Minera – stood behind the glossy chrome counter – raised a hand in greeting, her pale cyan glow winking in the glass of the old saloon cabinet behind her. From the back corridor, the heavy thud of workboots reverberated as the bouncer, Morgan, kept everything in check.

"Qui!" came a fluting coo from the corner of the bar. Quihui sighed as he approached the counter, nodding to the rotund human nursing a small tumbler of root liquor as he waited for Minera to finish up with another drink. "Hadley." "Mister Quihui," the man replied, running a hand over his bald pate. "Qui, don't ignore me." "C'mon now, Min," Minera said, as she poured fizzing cerise liquid into a crystal glass. "Give the man a chance to wet his throat, wontcha?" Quihui turned, dipping his head to greet the citrus-yellow avian behind him. "Good evening, Bloodsoother Minoch." The hen cooed again as she flitted onto the stool next to him. "It's rude to ignore people, you know." "Apologies," Quihui said, "You'll have to forgive me – my hearing is not as it was." "Pah." Minoch rolled her eyes with a smile. "You can't keep giving that excuse forever." Minera cocked her head at Quihui as she slid the glass over the counter. "There you go, Hadley. You can tell herself it's a 2744 vintage." "Thank you. Miss Ami will appreciate that." He slid off his stool and exchanged the glass for a handful of pixels, carrying both drinks carefully up to the mezzanine. Quihui followed Hadley's path as he made jet-trails for the sage and bubblegum-coloured hylotl drumming the pads of her fingers against the metal tabletop. "What'll it be?" Minera asked Quihui. "An OilSlick, if you'd be so kind." As Minera turned to the cabinet, Minoch slid some pixels on the counter. "Let me get this one, Qui." "I have the pix-" "I know. But I insist. Let a lady buy a gent a drink, huh? Could I get another glass of Cyanider, too?" "Sure thing, little miss," Minera said. She placed the bottle of OilSlick and a wide glass on the counter, then reached into a bucket of ice for the bottle of cerise bubbly.

Once the two had their drinks, they made trails to the corner that Minoch had already claimed. Quihui lent against the wall as he settled into the chair, only to have the wall squelch under his hand. "Ugh," he muttered, wiping his hand on the table. "You know, for such a recent addition, I do wonder why this place is, well," he lowered his voice, "rather a dump." Minoch cooed her disapproval. "That's not a nice thing to say, Qui." "It's true, though. The floors are mining girders, the walls are a mess of scrap and junk. I think that bit was radioactive…" "You're hardly one to talk, Quihui. I've seen your dusty, rickety furniture, all tied together with straw and hope." "I took what I was given when I came here, all those years ago. I happily accepted what the Princess could spare – which wasn't much at all!" Quihui ground his beak. "Nothing but trackless forests, wild pearlpeas, and monsters in those days. Not like it is now at all." "Metish says it is still like that. Outside the walls, anyway. She says the floran wouldn't have anything to hunt if it was all built up." "Maybe so, maybe so." Quihui sipped his beer. "And my house wasn't always so rickety, you know. Not back when the planet was empty of anyone but the six of us." "So ask the Princess to get you new furniture. I'm sure she could spare it." "Oh, but it's comfortable now. And Wandangi wouldn't come by so often if there wasn't something to repair." Minoch murmured; a disapproving sound, Quihui thought, as he sipped his drink.

"She does seem to be building a lot these days," he said. "Princess Caseswing, I mean. Aly said there's a new building going up on the deosil side." "Is that the tower?" "They didn't say." Minoch rested her chin on a hand, gazing into the middle distance with a wistful sigh. "Can you imagine? How amazing would it be to live in such a tower, so close to the heavens that you could reach out and touch Kluex as if you had wings." Quihui gave his drinking companion a slow blink. "Ah, maybe for you, young hen. My talons are firmly on the ground forever." He shuddered at the thought of being so far off the ground again, within reach of the god who'd wanted his mortal life. Minoch had no such qualms, having never been in such a position – she'd still been searching the stars for the erstwhile realm of the Winged when Caseswing found her.

"Maybe when it's built, and Minera's teleporter is working again, I'll go over and take a look." Minoch's eyes shone. "Meet all those new faces. Touch the stars." "New faces, new faces," Quihui said with humour. "Every day, more and more." "New stories too," Minoch grinned at him. "Don't tell me you're not curious." Quihui glanced out of the window at the last stains of sunlight. "Indeed I am. You should become a scribe, Mini. Write the stories down for me, write them down so they don't get lost." "Maybe I'll do that." Minoch raised her glass. "Good," Quihui said, tapping his own against it. "We all have our reasons for being here. And everyone deserves to have their story told."

#cw alcohol #starbound #starbound fanfic #starbound fanfiction #wandering words #oc Quihui #oc Wandangi Wilibind #oc Aly Shostak #oc Minera Lamine #oc Hadley Scobie #oc Bloodsoother Minoch

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sarahc1713 · 1 year

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How Clear Communication Created the Climb of Sun, Fun, and Beach

Modelo’s persistence paid off

Consistent and clear communication with consumers allowed Modelo to turn Corona into the number 2 imported beer brand in the U.S. Modelo's ability to commit to consistent advertising, fight off two false quality rumors, and not raise prices by absorbing tax increases allowed customers to trust the brand. These actions are all a result of Modelo’s persistence to be a top premium imported beer. Modelo visited almost every city in Germany to build trust again after rumors of Corona causing cancer and was very selective in who they chose as importers in order to build consistency and value for consumers, demonstrating how Modelo put in the work to build their brand.

Consistency builds trust

It is Modelo’s clear and consistent advertising that played a key roll in its success. Customer trust in a brand is what gives a brand power and allows the brand to fulfill its promise to its customers. Strong brands are symbols to customers and for Modelo’s Corona it promised to transport customers to a vacation, to provide them a little piece of the paradise of a Mexican beach through the messaging of “Fun, Sun, and Beach”. Corona’s “Vacation in a Bottle” and “Change your Lattitude” communications with straightforward ads demonstrated Corona’s distinct personality of a relaxing and fun beer, which resonated well with young consumers who are the primary consumers of imported beer. It is clear Modelo understood their target audience. Besides knowing what would resonate with younger consumers, Modelo benefitted from the growing U.S. Hispanic population, with even faster growing buying power. Modelo appealed to the Hispanic population by keeping production 100% in Mexico and maintaining the authentic Mexican bottle form with long-necks and simple logo.

With marketing being such an important factor in beer consumption as consumers are heavily persuaded by brand image when buying beer, I believe Modelo’s consistency in advertising and offering such a specific tangible promise to its consumers is one of the most important factors in its growth. Therefore, I think it would be a mistake for Modelo to drift away from their “Fun, Sun, and Beach” theme in communications.

The wrong consistency can backfire

While Heineken was consistently the number one imported premium beer brand in the U.S., it’s consistent confidence in high quality product, led to trouble by coming off as pretentious and stiff to customers. When I personally think of Heineken I think of the green bottle and formal more serious toned advertising, but that is really my only association with Heineken. Heineken’s belief that “Just being the best is enough” is unrelatable to young consumers who are their target audience for imported beers. Heineken should think about what their customer promise is other than product quality as they work to restructure their advertising communication.

#2023MITSloanBrandingSB

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mariacallous · 1 year

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Netflix’s recent announcement of a $2.5 billion investment in its production of South Korean movies and television shows is only the latest data point to suggest that Asia is a rising content giant—and Seoul sits at the center of it all.

The Netflix outlay—twice what it has plowed into the Korean market since 2016—came just before Asian American, Native Hawaiian, and Pacific Islander Heritage Month, which kicked off May 1. Asian content and entertainers of Asian descent are enjoying their highest profile in the United States since the month was first celebrated in 1992.

The historic showing at the Academy Awards in March—seven wins for Everything Everywhere All at Once, including actors Michelle Yeoh and Ke Huy Quan, and two Oscars for Indian films—represents a breakthrough moment. This builds on the cultural phenomenon of the South Korean show Squid Game, which took over Halloween costume parties last year, as well as Parasite, which won several Oscars in 2020.

Entertainment is a trend-driven industry, and it’s easy to write off the success of Korean content as a potent but passing fad. Other foreign-produced content has had its moment in the American sun and then faded. What sets South Korea apart from many other countries its size, and its neighbors in Asia, has been its relentless focus on foreign markets and its ability to produce multiple types of successful entertainment content—music, film, TV shows, and games—for those markets. Only South Korean literature has yet to join the party, and that may be coming. South Korean novels that have been translated into English, such as Kim Ji-young, Born 1982 and Please Look After Mom, a Man Asian Literary Prize winner, have started to focus global attention on Korean authors.

There are some specific reasons the South Korean entertainment industry has prospered overseas. First, it is a tough crucible. If Korean audiences don’t like a new film, TV show, or song, it will die a quick and merciless death. The domestic competition among entertainment companies is intense.

Korean audiences demand high-quality content, high production values, and a constant stream of fresh product. Unlike in the United States, where successful TV shows span multiple seasons and spawn franchises, it is rare for even hit shows in South Korea to last for more than one season. Writers are restless and want to move on to new projects, and so do audiences.

South Korea’s size has something to do with its constant cycle of creation and improvement. With just 52 million people in the Korean market, entertainment companies’ growth depends on creating movies, TV shows, and music that will fare well internationally. As a wealthy country that has prioritized content creation as an economic engine, in some ways the Korean entertainment industry has become too big to be contained within national borders. At the same time, the Korean domestic market acts like a shark tank as companies battle for a limited number of entertainment dollars. These factors combine to create high-quality, ready-to-export content.

This constant pressure guarantees a pipeline of high-quality shows and movies at a pace most other countries haven’t matched. For example, four of the eight-most watched non-English Netflix series of all time are South Korean. South Korea is a perpetual content engine tuned to the latest societal issues of our times. It’s also worth noting that South Korea has made the entertainment industry a national priority, in terms of seed funding, establishing numerous international film festivals and teaching filmmaking in schools, and the industry treats behind-the-scenes production staff as importantly as stars.

Culturally, South Korea is like a petri dish of innovation for many industries. The cycle of consumer trial, adoption, and failure or success is accelerated to warp speed because of the country’s dense population, global orientation, and fast internet. (South Korea was the first nation to roll out wide-scale commercial 5G service.)

There is a relentless appetite for something new that has led South Korea to be a preferred testbed for technology companies, luxury brands, and co-working with robots. “If any trend is going to move from overseas to the U.S., I would put South Korea at the front of the line in terms of who is likeliest to be that springboard,” Andrew Wallenstein, the president of Variety Intelligence Platform, told the New York Times.

Second, despite what American audiences may understandably think, K-content did not come out of nowhere. The United States is only the most recent market to embrace it. One of South Korea’s first big entertainment exports was the TV series Winter Sonata, which became a hit in Japan and the Philippines in the early 2000s, generating a wave across Asia that Korean dramas and films rode.

K-pop expanded its footprint beginning in the mid-2000s from Asia to Latin America and Europe, propelled by social media. According to Twitter data, the top five countries of origin of K-pop tweets are Indonesia, Japan, the Philippines, South Korea, and the United States. In fact, research by the AMPD group showed Korean content ranking first or second in every Southeast Asian country as measured by premium content by country of origin in 2022, besting Hollywood and even local-language content.

Much has been said about the diversity of American K-pop fans. Indeed, last year’s KCON, the annual K-culture festival sponsored by my firm, CJ ENM, in Los Angeles, drew about 100,000 fans—and only about 20 percent of them were ethnically Korean. In 2022, 60 percent of Netflix’s 221 million subscribers watched Korean content, and even this week, the Korean series Black Knight features on Netflix’s list of most watched non-English shows (with South Korea’s Dr. Cha in second place). The streaming services’ algorithms that curate shows don’t think in terms of geographic boundaries, so they surface high-quality, popular content regardless of country of origin.

By their increasing size, audiences have demonstrated that the storylines of K-dramas are universal. Even a Korean film that looked inaccessible to Western audiences—set in the hidden neighborhoods of Seoul and featuring a cast largely unknown to English-language moviegoers—hit on universal themes of class struggle, greed, and justice, all with a dash of caper and horror. This is why Parasite grossed $260 million worldwide. Korean content creators—much like Korean automakers and smartphone producers—are outwardly focused on global trends and the social zeitgeist. Director Bong Joon-ho tapped into the brewing cross-cultural anxiety over wealth inequality that drove the film’s core connection with global audiences. And, as CJ Group Vice Chairwoman Miky Lee said during her Oscar acceptance speech, “I really, really, really want to thank our Korean film audience … [who] never hesitated to give us straightforward opinions.”

Action movies look different today than they did 20 years ago. But their popularity endures. Likewise, K-content—with a strong international base and a constant cycle of creation and improvement—will continue to resonate with global audiences. It takes time and money to establish a high-quality entertainment industry, but digital technology and social media have lowered some key barriers to entry for production and distribution. Every country has distinct cultural forces at work within it, but South Korea’s success at creating broadly appealing music, movies, and TV series and engaging online with fans around the world could well be a template for other countries seeking to make their mark on the global stage.

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chemicalresearchupdates · 1 year

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After Sun Products Market CAGR Status, Emerging Trends and Forecast till 2030

After-sun products are specialized skincare products designed to provide relief and hydration to the skin after exposure to the sun. These products are commonly used to soothe sunburns, reduce redness and inflammation, and restore the skin's natural moisture barrier. The after-sun products market has seen significant growth in recent years, driven by the increasing awareness of the harmful effects of sun exposure and the growing demand for skincare products.

Market Size and Growth

The global after-sun products market size was valued at USD 1.1 billion in 2020 and is expected to grow at a compound annual growth rate (CAGR) of 6.7% from 2021 to 2028. The growth of the market is driven by the increasing demand for after-sun products, particularly in regions with high levels of sun exposure.

Product Types

The after-sun products market is segmented into several product types, including:

Gel: After-sun gel is a popular product type that is designed to quickly absorb into the skin, providing a cooling and soothing effect.

Lotion: After-sun lotion is a thicker product that is designed to provide long-lasting hydration to the skin.

Cream: After-sun cream is a heavy-duty product that is designed to deeply moisturize and repair damaged skin.

Spray: After-sun spray is a convenient product that can be applied directly to the skin, providing a quick and easy way to hydrate and soothe the skin.

End-Use Industries

The after-sun products market is segmented into several end-use industries, including:

Retail: After-sun products are commonly sold through retail channels such as drugstores, supermarkets, and online retailers.

Professional: After-sun products are also used by professionals such as dermatologists and aestheticians as part of their skincare treatments.

Regional Analysis

The after-sun products market is segmented into several regions, including North America, Europe, Asia-Pacific, Middle East and Africa, and South America.

North America: The after-sun products market in North America is driven by the increasing awareness of the harmful effects of sun exposure and the growing demand for skincare products.

Europe: The European after-sun products market is driven by the popularity of beach vacations and the growing demand for natural and organic skincare products.

Asia-Pacific: The Asia-Pacific after-sun products market is expected to grow at the highest CAGR over the forecast period due to the increasing awareness of the harmful effects of sun exposure and the growing demand for skincare products in countries such as China and India.

Key Players

The key players operating in the after-sun products market include Johnson & Johnson, L'Oréal S.A., Beiersdorf AG, Unilever, and Estée Lauder Companies Inc.

Regulatory Framework

The use of after-sun products is subject to various regulations in different countries, particularly regarding the labeling and advertising of these products. In the United States, the Food and Drug Administration (FDA) regulates the labeling and advertising of after-sun products through various regulations such as the Federal Food, Drug, and Cosmetic Act. In the European Union, after-sun products are regulated under the Cosmetic Products Regulation.

Conclusion

The global after-sun products market is expected to grow at a significant rate over the forecast period due to the increasing awareness of the harmful effects of sun exposure and the growing demand for skincare products. However, the market is subject to various regulations, particularly regarding the labeling and advertising of these products, which may constrain the growth of the market in the coming years. The increasing demand for natural and organic skincare products is also expected to drive the growth of the market in the future.

#After Sun Products Market #After Sun Products Market Growth #After Sun Products Market Trends

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market-insider · 12 days

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Egg Yolk Oil Market: Detailed Insights on Size, Share, and Growth Potential

The global egg yolk oil market size is expected to reach USD 419.19 million by 2030, growing at a CAGR of 5.3% from 2024 to 2030, according to a new report by Grand View Research, Inc. Egg yolk oil is witnessing a surge in demand, propelled by key trends such as the increasing consumer preference for natural and sustainable beauty products, the expanding awareness of holistic health benefits, and the shift toward clean beauty formulations. With its rich composition of phospholipids, triglycerides, and antioxidants, egg yolk oil is becoming a sought-after ingredient in various industries. The growing inclination toward products with minimal environmental impact and the rising interest in multifunctional ingredients further boost the market for egg yolk oil.

In the skincare and cosmetics industry, egg yolk oil is valued for its moisturizing, anti-aging, and anti-inflammatory properties. It serves as an effective emollient and is incorporated into creams, lotions, and serums to enhance skin hydration and elasticity. The presence of antioxidants like lutein and zeaxanthin helps protect the skin from UV damage and oxidative stress. Additionally, egg yolk oil's ability to stabilize carotenoids makes it a preferred ingredient in sun-protective formulations, catering to the growing demand for natural sunscreens and anti-aging products.

Egg yolk oil is also gaining traction in the nutritional supplements and functional foods sector. Its high content of phospholipids and essential fatty acids supports cognitive health, cardiovascular health, and overall wellness. Studies, such as the one conducted by Kewpie Corporation in 2023, have shown that egg yolk choline can improve verbal and visual memory in forgetful individuals. This positions egg yolk oil as a valuable component in supplements targeting brain health and memory enhancement, addressing the rising consumer focus on mental well-being.

The health and wellness industry presents numerous emerging opportunities for egg yolk oil. Its potential use in ready-to-drink beauty beverages and beauty foods aligns with trends like ingestible beauty and the gut-skin axis, where consumers seek to improve skin health from within. Egg yolk oil can be integrated into products such as collagen drinks, nut butters, and bone broths, offering added skin and health benefits. The versatility of egg yolk oil, combined with its proven efficacy, makes it a promising ingredient in the evolving landscape of health-focused food and beverage innovations.

Egg yolk oil has shown significant potential in regulating photosensitivity and shielding skin cells from UV-induced oxidative stress. Egg oil treatment preserved normal epidermal cell structure and nuclei integrity even after UV exposure in research by Hahn et al. utilizing a full-thickness human skin model, in contrast to untreated models that displayed pycnotic nuclei indicative of cell death. Egg oil's potential as a therapeutic ingredient in skincare products targeted at reducing UV-related skin damage and supporting tissue healing is highlighted by its protective impact against sunburn-induced skin inflammation, which has been attributed to its antioxidant qualities.

Furthermore, egg yolk oil has strong analgesic and anti-inflammatory qualities that make it useful in the treatment of inflammatory diseases such as joint pain. At concentrations of 100–300 mg/kg, oils derived from duck and hen eggs considerably reduced pain and inflammation, according to research by Mahmoudi et al. The presence of choline, which decreased inflammatory markers by 20%, and palmitoylethanolamide in the phospholipid fraction, which further reduces inflammation, are both responsible for some of the anti-inflammatory benefits. According to these results, egg yolk oil shows promise as a component in medicinal formulations intended to reduce inflammation and discomfort.

For More Details or Sample Copy please visit link @: Egg Yolk Oil Market Report

Egg Yolk Oil Market Report Highlights

Based on application, the personal care & cosmetics segment led the market in 2023. This ingredient is highly valued in the cosmetics industry for its emollient and skin-repairing properties. It is frequently used in formulations for moisturizers, anti-aging creams, and hair care products. The presence of antioxidants such as lutein and zeaxanthin helps protect the skin from UV damage and environmental stressors

Based on extraction method, the petroleum ether method is set to rise at a significant rate from 2024 to 2030. This is due to its efficiency in yielding high-purity oil, which is increasingly demanded for its applications in natural skincare and nutraceutical products

The Asia Pacific egg yolk oil market is expected to grow rapidly from 2024 to 2030. This is due to increasing consumer awareness of natural and sustainable beauty solutions, a growing middle-class population, and the popularity of traditional holistic health practices. Additionally, the expanding nutraceutical and cosmetics industries in countries like China, Japan, and South Korea are driving demand for high-quality, multifunctional ingredients like egg yolk oil

Gain deeper insights on the market and receive your free copy with TOC now @: Egg Yolk Oil Market Report We have segmented the global egg yolk oil market on the basis of application, extraction method, and region.

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breelandwalker · 1 year

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Strawberry Moon - June 3, 2023

Grab your baskets and your moon jars, witches - it's time for the Strawberry Moon!

Strawberry Moon

The Strawberry Moon is the name given to the full moon which occurs in the month of June in the Northern Hemisphere. The name is taken from the ripening of those little red heart-shaped berries we find in so many summertime treats. Strawberries are typically ready to harvest beginning around the summer solstice, though this will vary depending on variety, planting times, and local weather. The Strawberry Moon, sadly, does not turn pink to match the berries.

Other European names for this moon include Honey Moon, Rose Moon, and Mead Moon. Indigenous names for the June moon include Blooming Moon (Anishinaabe), Green Corn Moon (Cherokee), and Hatching Moon (Cree).

What Does It Mean For Witches?

Full moons are excellent times for bringing wishes to fulfillment and plans to fruition, all the more so under one named after a prolific berry. This is an optimal time to make things happen!

This is a time to explore things that catch your attention or pique your curiosity, and to let yourself be open to new ideas and new opportunities.

What Witchy Things Can We Do?

With a full moon in the sky and the summer solstice hot on its' heels, it's time to prepare for a full bloom. Here's hoping you've been nurturing those plans and seeds of growth you planted in the spring, because they're about to start flowering and the way is clear to sow the next stage of your plans. What they will be and what new prospects the summer will bring is entirely up to you.

With the moon in Sagittarius again this year, it's a good time to look ahead to the future. Think on the plans you have in process and let yourself dream of how things might turn out. If you're inclined to journaling, make a note of how things are going so far and how you hope they'll turn out. Pick your favorite divination method and do a reading for the month ahead. (Make sure you write that down too so you can check back later!)

Happy Strawberry Moon, witches! 🌕🍓