#Calloways

[silverseaming]

Summer drifts in on a warm wind, the heat climbing so subtly at first that it was hard to notice. By the middle of the harvest, though, the rays beat down with such intensity that man, beast and flower wilt beneath them. Only the wheat is uncowed, tall and golden as a sticky breeze runs ripples through the fields. It’s almost bearable in the morning — beautiful, even — when the sun only peeks over the mountaintops, glazing the crops orange as the sunrise. The stalks are still heavy with dew, Chestnut’s feathering shining with the moisture.

At midday, however, it is decidedly not beautiful. Despite setting out at dawn and having the help of the Mellors and Gillis boys, the need to harvest while the dry weather lasts means Kit can’t avoid the worst of the heat. By now his shirt sticks to his back, calluses throbbing on his palms. Even the faithful Chestnut has abandoned him to amble down to the creek, not that he can blame her. Each pile of straw tossed increases his longing for the sweet relief of cool water. It’s hard work, yes, but it must be done. This harvest, just like their first harvest, cannot be allowed to fail. Not when he’s risked so much for this, not when they need this, need— well, not even only the money. The success, the small joy of all the crops being gathered in, a bounty in one area of their lives, when others have been painfully barren. And enough to buy a Johnson self-raking reaper, he thinks, as he fiddles with the latest knot of twine. At least then Chestnut would have to pull her weight, rather than leaving everything to Kit and his scythe.

Just when he can’t take any longer, sustenance arrives in the form of Meg and Daisy, laden with freshly baked bread, jams, lemonade, and all sorts of other delights. This little ritual has quickly become Kit’s favourite part of the day — not just because of the welcome meal they bring, but for the view of watching them walk over the field, the moment before Daisy’s sticky hands grab at his where they come close enough for him to see their smiles. It makes something tighten in his chest. Gratitude. Guilt. The two never seem too far apart these days. Looking at Daisy it’s easy to forget, simply lose himself in her innocent happiness. But there are moments of sadness he catches in Meg’s eyes that bring up a whole new guilt, the old crashing harder in its wake. It’s all for them. That’s what he tells himself. It’s better Meg doesn’t worry. Not now. “Thank you, love.” Kit says, pulling Meg a little closer. “It’s no trouble,” Meg smiles, “And this way Daisy gets to be out in the fields with Pa, without driving me to distraction.” “Well, you two are my saviours all the same.”

[necessary-quotation-marks]

His mind is fucking intriguing as hell, I more than willingly follow every thread, every line of thought.

Krista and Becca Ritchie (Damaged Like Us)

[jadequarze]

Hells to the Bells

[yudol-skorbi]

*trows at you humanAU! callowmoore and runs away*

[lightningtitties]

the scream i scrumpt

[otterlyart]

"A voice to the side goes, 'And Grogory shouldn't have been drinking before this meeting.'

[ruidusnightmare]

liam and laura's in sync head turn sends me

[californiannostalgia]

The thing about Vox Machina is that they are a frat party that woke up one morning after a drunken bender and decided to hunt down the serial killers who murdered their friend's family. One thing happened after another and they ended up taking out some very bad individuals in power at great personal cost, which propelled them to mythic status.

But fundamentally, VM is a college frat party that got impossibly attached to each other in the process of trying to do some good.

The Mighty Nein are a group of confrontational, distrustful pariahs who are vulnerable to outside influences that try to manipulate them into a villain arc. But after they completed trauma dumping and crisis bonding, they closed ranks and ground every single one of their personal demons to smithereens.

In essence, the MN are an exclusive, protective battle blender that only saves the world in order to save each other.

Bells Hells are defined by extreme stress. VM was trying to save the world, and the MN were on a self-actualization journey. Bells Hells have to do both of these things at once.

They're quick to trust, which opens them up for numerous betrayals. They don't have enough power to protect against the losses of friends or family. All they've got going for them is their collective aura of tragic weirdness and their full-on willingness to kill immortals (fucking delilah).

In a way, BH view themselves as monstrous abominations. They gain trust from the unlikeliest people and will try to befriend you if they think you're a fascinating monster like them. They've never agreed on anything ever, but they're open to a lot of impossible things and take it in stride. After all, their own existence is an impossibility. And I think that's fucking special.

[magsowo]

fearneposting

[ohbeauregard]

C3E105

Bells Hells + official titles

[silverseaming]

Dear Aunt Winifred,

Do you remember how as a child I used to wait for the first crocuses of Spring, impatiently tramping over the lawn each morning after the snow had melted? Lately I have found myself back in the same habit, and now I can finally say that the first flower has appeared! The snow has been gone for several weeks, but it was only this morning that I saw petals peeking up from the grass by the henhouse, and all the childish excitement came rushing back to me.

All of this is to say that Spring has arrived, and with it my good spirits. I find it so much easier to be cheerful in the sunshine than in the snow! To me it seems that the Winter darkness lasted longer than ever, but that may have been somewhat due to the self-imposed winter I had been keeping inside me. The slow emergence of new life in the world around has somehow brought hope, instead of sadness. I like to think of it as a reminder that life continues, and can spring up in the most unexpected of corners. 

While I don’t have any good news this month either, I have found the strength to try not to dwell on my disappointment. Instead I have resolved to make myself useful -- there is much to be done, and as you always say, the Devil makes work for idle hands! With Daisy to look after I certainly do not have idle hands. Every day she seems to be able to run faster, and to talk more. I look at her running around and marvel that only two years ago she was a tiny babe in my arms, barely larger than a sack of flour. 

Kit has taken on a pet lamb from Zachariah Miller, as they have had an illness in their flock, and Daisy is just besotted! She’s named him ‘Snowball’, and I have an almost impossible job separating them. More often than not Daisy ends the day smelling like the farmyard. I suppose I should be grateful that Snowball keeps her occupied, and is much more tolerant of her constant pestering than the chickens.

Talking of my husband, do you recall my telling you that he had gone into business with a Mr. Fred Allen, who’s running an export company out of Rockland? Well, Mr. Allen seems to have taken an interest in Kit, and the two of them have struck up a friendship. Quite against Kit’s will, I’m sure -- if he had his way he’d hide away from all society with his horses (and his wife, I hope) -- but he’s warming to it. I certainly think it’s doing him good to expand his social horizons, and the best thing is that it’s expanding my social horizons too. Mr. Allen has invited us to a party he and his wife are giving for those involved with the Lermond’s Cove Company.  It was my good luck that I was there to accept before Kit could make any excuses!

The appointed date isn’t for a few weeks yet, but I find myself quite unreasonably excited already. I suppose that speaks to how little we have been attending any sort of social event since taking Maple Farm -- or even since our marriage. It certainly feels like a long time since I have had cause to dress up for anything other than church. I shall have to take my old pink silk to Mrs Miller and see if she can work any of her magic on it, as I suspect it’s in dire need of brightening up.

Please tell me all is well with you and Uncle Thomas, that you’re not too lonely after Josie’s wedding. I think of you all as I watch Daisy grow, and how much she would love to run around at Rook’s Rest. I know every time I write I promise to come back, but we never seem to find the right time to leave the farm. I won’t say that Daisy will not have siblings, but I would so love for her to meet all her cousins before too long. Consider that my promise that we will come soon, and I shall put my best effort into keeping it.

As always you have my love in abundance, and I look forward to your next letter.

Your loving,

Meg

[necessary-quotation-marks]

His love for his siblings toughens him, not softens.

Krista and Becca Ritchie (Damaged Like Us)

[therosecleric]

exandria is NOT ready for fearne and jester's combined power I fear

[yudol-skorbi]

they are communicating

[suraelis]

From Critical Role C3EP110

MIGHTY NEIN I'VE MISSED YOU SO!