#I GOT MOSQUITO DUNKS HERE TOO

[ichorousisopod]

I wonder if my isopods are doing okay...

[callofdudes]

Happy National Women's Day (yesterday, woops) Celebrated with a platonic story for y/n, Laswell, and Farah.

Readers gender is not specified. This isn't beta read because my eyes really hurt today for some reason.

You had just gotten back from a mission followed by Farah's forces and accompanying assistance of one Alex Keller. After getting back the guys were pretty tuckered out. Price and Simon going for a smoke and Johnny going for a long snooze in his bed. Missions usually left you exhausted.

However, this was the week that Laswell got a much needed break from her work and she wanted to spend it well.

She was sat on the couch, watching you and Simon quietly talk. Farah was cleaning her goggles, frowning over a small scratch in the top corner of the lense.

She could see the stress on Farah's face, and just from your posture she knew you needed a break as well. So when Simon got up to use the bathroom she leaned forward.

"What do you two say we get out of here for a couple days?"

You looked up curiously. "What do you mean?? Get a hotel or something?"

She shook her head. "Camping. My brother has a cabin up in the mountains where his buddies and him go climbing. We could go spend some time out there."

"Would it be quiet?" Farah asks.

"Most likely, it's not a big place. The spot we usually go isn't touristy either."

Farah looks to you. "I've never been camping outside of missions."

"If we can get a place with room for three and not get eaten alive by mosquitoes and the like, then yeah."

Laswell nods. "It's a cabin, so I don't think you'll have to worry too much about mosquitoes. But it'll just be the three of us." Laswell stands, stretching and grabbing her coffee. "We'll head out tomorrow after you're packed."

So the next morning you and Farah brought out your backpacks to Laswell's car. She only had a small vehicle but it was enough to fit all your supplies. Laswell brought her climbing gear, and enough food to last you a week at the cabin.

Once you were all ready to go there was one person you had to say goodbye to.

"Simon it's ok, I'm not going to be gone that long, only a week."

"A week... What am I supposed to do until then??"

"Hangout with the guys, take some time off to relax your feet. Read your book. You'll be ok."

Simon grumbled and looked over at Alex who was staying with them. To Simon's dismay.

You smiled softly, and fixed his sweater hoodie. "Only a week." You wrap your arms around him and he hugged you back, squeezing you for good measure.

Soon enough you packed in and set off on your journey. Farah plugged her phone in and played music from the passenger seat. "Any song requests??"

"Remember that one song you played the other day? With the guitar solo?"

Farah smiled and put the song on, and you jammed away in the backseat. Laswell put her son blocker down and set you off to the nearest coffee shop. Because what's a road trip without coffee?

She took the tray from the man at the drive through window and handed Farah her iced coffee and you your drink. “There you go.”

“Thank you mom.” You smiled and leaned back.

“Of course. Now, it’ll be a bit of a drive.” But you guys were ready for that.

You drove for the rest of the day. As you got closer to the mountains, Farah and you both pointed out a fair bit of wildlife you saw along the roadside.

Farah’s entire day was made by seeing baby ducklings going for a dunk in a small pond with their mom.

Laswell pointed out a few deer on the way, and soon you reached the place. Driving up the road and parking in front of a rather nice little cabin. It was old, with a couple swinging shutters and the frame would need some repainting.

“This is nice.” Farah looked around the grassy area behind the cabin that led up into a large hill. A small fire pit set up around some trees and a stone pathway up to the stairs.

“How did you get this place again??”

“My brother rents it most of the summer for his rock climbing. They come every few weeks.”

“Cool.”

Laswell nods, opening the car door and putting her park pass in the window. She tossed you the keys. “I'll go tell administration we’re here so they don't freak out. You two and get the first pickings.”

You and Farah smiled at each other softly. “Thanks laswell!” You called and grabbed out your stuff. You unlocked the house and you two headed inside. In the small entry way was a couple buckets full of wood and a shelf of paper and some lighters.

A tiny kitchen area and a gas stove. It was a cozy little place. Heading into the next part of the cabin there was a small bench, a cabinet with some games and a bed tucked against the opposite wall.

The back bedroom was separated by a curtain, inside being another two beds.

You and Farah looked at each other. “you can have either, I don't mind.” She said softly.

You were quiet for a moment. “You want the one by the window??”

“I'd like that.” She admitted.

You nodded and tossed your stuff on the bed in the corner, and let Farah have the bed next to the big window looking out at the field.

Laswell came back with a bag of some firewood and her climbing equipment. Taking dibs on the bed in the other room and getting comfy.

After which she promptly started on some dinner because she was starving. Until then you two opened her tray of fruit from the cooler and snacked away.

“So where do you usually go rock climbing, Laswell?” Farah asks.

“We usually go up one of the old trails. There's an open section of land that shows off this huge rock face. It's the perfect climb. I think it'll be easy enough for you two.”

“We’re capable Laswell.” You chuckle. You could smell the food waft through the cabin. She plated up, and came over to set down two plates for you two. You moved over on the bench allowing Laswell to sit down, and you all dug in.

Talking and laughing as the sun starts to go down on the field, the food being quickly devoured. Laswell brought out brownies as dessert.

You gasped softly. “Are those….”

Laswell smiled and ruffled your hair. “She said they're all yours.”

You eagerly popped the lid off and snatched one to dig into. “Oh Farah, you gotta try one. Her wife makes them the best.”

Farah smiled softly and reached in and took one out. “What's in it, Laswell??”

“Hm? I have the recipe list here if you want to look at it.” She took it from her bag and passed it over. Farah read through it before biting in, humming happily. “Oh, oh these are good.” She took another bite.

“Can I just…” She slid the recipe back toward herself and Laswell nodded. “All yours”

Farah tucked it into her pocket and you two devoured the brownies. Laswell’s wife was the best, always asking what sweets you guys would like best and sending Laswell out to work with a box or two for you guys.

Eventually you all headed to bed. You crawled into bed and rolled over, falling asleep.

Farah pulled the blanket over her shoulder, and opened the window to look out at the darkness. The cool breeze on her face.

She sighed softly, and closed it. Flopping down and rolling over again. She looked into the darkness, trying to arrange the blanket to try and get comfy.

When she couldn't, she leaned over and grabbed the flashlight off the nightstand, flicking it on low. She went over to you, standing at the edge of the bed for a bit before poking you.

“Y/n?” She whispered. You mumbled softly and opened your eyes. “Farah?”

“I'm sorry… I can't sleep.” She whispered.

You smiled softly, and rolled onto your back. You pulled the blanket back to allow her in. “Come on.”

She pursed her lips and flicked the light off. But she crawled into the bed. You gave her some more blanket and closed your eyes again. Farah laid next to you, sighing and slowly closing her eyes.

She held out her hand and you linked your pinky with hers. Helping her relax and fall asleep.

The next morning Laswell was up first. She got dressed and needed a coffee. She pushed the curtain to the second room open and smiled softly when she saw you and Farah curled up, pinkies still linked.

You two could sleep in.

She tied up her hair and went to the kitchen to put hot water on the stove and look through the food bag for what to make for breakfast.

The sound of the kettle woke you up, slowly rubbing your eyes and sitting up. Farah felt you stir and also opened her eyes. “Hmm…??”

“It's ok, you can keep resting if you want.” You assure, and crawled out around her. You scratched your stomach and headed out to the main room.

“Well good morning.” Laswell greeted you.

“Mornin…”

“Coffee??”

“Please.” You nodded.

You sat down at the bench, and heard the curtain shift. “I'm gonna change.” Farah gave you the heads up.

Laswell handed you your fresh coffee. “What do you feel for breakfast??”

“Eggs??” You gave her the innocent best child ever look. “Please mom??”

“Tell you what, find the carton in the cooler and I'll see what I can do.”

Farah filled up her water bottle as Laswell made breakfast, checking her phone. She snickered a little from across the table.

Without further incentive you rushed to the cooler and dug around for the eggs, bringing them to her.

She chuckled and saw Farah come out from the back room soon.

“What are you chuckling about?” You teased softly.

Farah turned her phone and showed you a photo of Alex around a corner with a blurry Ghost in the background.

“You think he's dead yet??”

“Knowing Simon and Johnny… maybe.” You snickered.

“Those three are going to kill each other.” She fully smiled briefly before looking down at the accompanying texts.

“Well, he's still alive but accidentally took some of Ghost’s gummy worms it seems.”

You cringed a little. “Ooh… ouch. I'll have to talk with Simon to make sure he didn't hurt Alex too badly.”

You both have a chuckle over it and Laswell brings you your eggs.

And without hesitation you dig in, humming happily to have your stomach full of food and happy.

“How long is the hike to the rock face??”

“Not long. Fifteen minutes at most. And I've got all the gear for you.”

“Awesome.”

“Now that you've got some fiber in you, let's get going.” Laswell fills her water bottle and grabs the bag of equipment.

“I can carry it for you??” You offered, but she shook her head. “I got it.”

You headed out down the road and hiked up the trail into the mountains. Seeing the tall trees and smelling the fresh air. Feeling the gentle breeze on your warm skin.

Laswell led you up and off the main path to a small outcrop. And there it was. A tall rock face up the side of the mountain with clearly outlined passages and handholds from how much it had been traversed.

Laswell secured her hair and handed you your gear. You and Farah got snug and comfy. Laswell set up the ropes and pegs in the ground to hold you three.

Chalking up your hands.

“You ready, princesses??”

“Hey!” You huffed, rushing after Laswell. Farah chuckled under her breath and found a small ledge to slide her hand into. And you three started to climb.

Farah scaled it fairly easily, though it definitely felt easier when under the pressure of a mission.

You found another handhold and pushed your foot up, feeling around until you could find a spot to slot your shoe in. Securing the tie on your belt.

“You doing ok Farah??”

“A little sweaty.” She wrung her wrist out.

“Let's pause for a minute.” You secured your line and tugged it a couple times before taking your hands off the rocks, keeping your feet in place to keep you from spinning.

Farah did the same, wringing out her wrists and wiping her sweaty palms on her hips.

“Need some more powder??”

“Yeah, thanks.”

You grabbed it off your belt and handed it to her, letting her resupply, and you did the same.

“I bet Laswell is already at the top.” You chuckled.

Farah looked around, trying to spot her. “Oh she probably is.”

“Let's catch up then, hey?”

Farah nodded, and you continued to climb until you reached the top.

And as you suspected, Laswell was already at the top. “You're fast.” You pushed yourself up, shaking out her legs, looking back down at where you came from.

“Oh.” You wobbled a little, stepping back. “It's best not to look down for a minute.” Laswell tipped and looked out at the edge of the cliff. The sun showed out from behind the clouds. It casted down over the lake and reflecting off of the water.

Farah took out her phone and got a picture of the view. Motioning you and Laswell to get close.

You wrapped your arm around her, keeping your hand just off her waist as she attempted a simple smile. Catching the moment with you three.

“Now I'm gonna tell Alex about the fun we’re having.” She chuckled, and put her phone away.

“Maybe I could bring Simon here.” You wondered aloud. You threw sat around the cliff on a small blanket, drinking from your water bottles.

“Hey, I just remembered.”

Farah and Laswell looked at you curiously.

“Happy National Women's Day.”

The two smiled. “That is today, isn't it?” Farah said, and Laswell nodded.

“It is. I almost forgot.”

“I mean, we got the Barbie movie.”

Farah smiled. “I got to see it with some of the girls from my group. Their families said I could come with them.” She fidgeted with her water bottle. “We want to go with Miss Farah.” She remembered them saying.

Laswell looked out at the cliff. “I remember dragging John out with my wife and I.”

You snickered. “Uh oh, how did that go??”

“Oh I think he fell asleep.” She snickered. “It's not his typical movie. But hey, he gave a kicker of a review afterward in the car home.”

You looked down at your hands, looking at all the roughness to your hands. Your battered knuckles and the dirt under your fingernails.

“Do you guys ever feel pressured to look or act a certain way??”

A moment of soft silence went by, letting the breeze drift between you three. “Yes. I think it comes with the territory… but even though I have respect, I still feel mentally challenged a lot to prove myself.” Laswell said.

“Like some of the men in my charge can't understand how I could be as smart as them or understand how to handle pressuring situations.”

"But... Recently a lot of the pressures and beauty standards have been pushed by other women. Which, is sad, considering a lot of them think we need all this stuff done to look pretty or be wanted. But it just isn't true."

You nodded. “Yeah…”

Farah sighed softly. “It feels pressuring every day, to have to dress and act a certain way. Follow a certain code or I won't be respected. I had a man tell me I wouldn't ever have a voice if I didn't have a husband to speak for me.”

You frowned, but nodded. Farah fidgeted a little. “But you know what? I did find my voice. And a voice for many other men and women who couldn't speak before.”

She smiles. “And for every bad person I meet, I've met ten more amazing men I know I have in my corner.”

Laswell nods. “I second that.”

You smile more, happily raising your water bottle. “To the women, and all those who support them.”

You clinked your water bottles and took a large sip. “I'm glad I get to spend the week with you guys. I know it's gonna be awesome.”

“We’re going swimming next.” Farah says quickly.

Laswell and you laugh. “Swimming is next on the list then.”

[nomsfaultau]

Daily ask №23!

Random/cursed edition!

What if I were to try and tell Fault!Wilbur where babies come from?

So. Phil has said that Tubbo's problem is not having blood in that one famous shitpost which got me into Fault in the first place. So. What if they did have blood though? Like what if some of the wax cells were filled with blood? Just spontaneously. For blood-letting purposes, yk.

I think I saw you mention somewhere that Fault!Tubbo either has or could potentially have memories from different alternative versions of themselves. Explain please?? Also does that mean that they potentially have memories from my personal au where most of my ocs and headcanons live? Btw my first reaction at that thought was "AAHH FUCK NONONONONO BITCH CHEESUS CRUST". It's not that bad though I promise I'd just be embarrassed either way.

What if. What if the Fault crew + the scp researchers got spontaneously teleported into a gacha reaction videos where they had to react to your shitposts, animations and drawings. Also throw a couple of 2018 style gacha vids in there for good measure. (While writing this I checked the lyrics of Devils don't fly and realised that it's actually a pretty serious song. Which like- damn.)

What role would the Fault crew characters get in the soldier poet king test? I do love that test a little too much maybe- here's the link to the quiz! https://uquiz.com/quiz/MYLbZ3/are-you-a-soldier-a-poet-or-a-king

This one has heavy spoilers!

1. Probably depends on how you do it, but I think he’d just take basic notes on sex-ed. Doesn’t have much puritan context of taboo or embarrassment on the subject. Fairly indifferent on the whole sex thing because he doesn’t think it’ll ever come up in his lifestyle of avoiding humans and knowing only 4 people. Probably a little irritated that its theories were so wildly off base, grumble a bit about how its own ideas about making Faustian bargains with dark entities and trading organ: [womb] for power make far more sense but whatever. He thinks pregnancy is stupid because how are you supposed to run like that? And your food is SIPHONED off by the fetus? Why can’t they get their own? And at the end you get a human. Terrible process all around. 3/10 Tommy has less ammunition to tease it now and that’s IT. 

2. Probably smell bad. Maybe they could do things like blush? Mosquitoes would go crazy for them. If this is ‘a previously weren’t a blood fruit gusher’ situation, Tubbo would be freaking out about 1. Who the muffin’s blood is this and 2. Starving 2 death babyy. Cause they really need that honey to operate. A bunch of baby larva are going to die even if all the workers can go into overdrive to feed the Hive. I think it would be very funny if Tubbo tried to break into a blood bank to donate it all. Shhh don’t worry about where this blood came from. Or what happened to the security cameras. It’s for a good cause trust trust. 

3.Heavy spoilers. The plan was that Tubbo and Wilbur get dunked through the near apocalypse via dissolving of the narrative due to SOMEONE being so depressed it fails to keep the void in check/potentially interpretable as being suicidal, thus exposing the two to pure void madness and realizing everything is a story. Which would entail having some familiarity/confusion about the source material of the dsmp, some vlogs, etc. but not necessarily AUs. But then SOMEONE turned out to be an abusive ass, and that plot point got very icky to me. I’ve been debating it for months, but realized I’m sexy and do what I want so am going to limit it to pure awareness of being a story, but not necessarily a fanfic. Still has the existential crisis of it and the philosophical implications that are going to so beautifully deal with themes of attachments, the purpose of narratives, and parallel whatever the hell trauma Tommy is dealing with during that section. But won’t actually deal with having any true awareness of stuff outside of Fault. Except maybe for realizing “Lawrence killed our muffining husband?!” because that scene was funny as hell to write. I dunno plans change. I’ve tried not to let outside events change my artistic vision, but it’s inevitable. 

4.Oh goodness they absolutely despise me for all the jokes about the horrors they’re going through. Probably think they’re being drawn ‘cute’ given they’re probably a lot freakier looking irl, and slightly distressed about being chibis. I think most would even consider it ‘out of character’ given their self perceptions don’t tend to be the most accurate. Current Wilbur is hissing and vehement about being constantly called an it because his character development is very far off from when that happens. Philza is a little disappointed that his bloodthirsty moments gets so much emphasis since he’s so chill 97% of the time. Tommy is absolutely chuffed to bits to realize he’s the main character, though trying to do damage control cause haha I’m fine guys this crazy internet person just made me seem edgy and depressed. 

Webb is going to strangle me for the Philza/Webb post tho. And the haha poor alcoholic divorcee doormat jokes. Dr. Blake assumes the blog is an anomaly and starts trying to torture it…?

5. I took the quiz sitting in the heads of all of them. 

Tommy: The Poet. “So I wait for you like a lonely house till you will see me again and live in me, till then my windows ache.” “The one who hurt you haunts you. In your nightmares, they say I am disappointed in you” literally happens in Fault. With Philza. “What is a sin? Inevitable” is pretty much something he tells Tubbo word for word. “What is hell anyway? Barren” "how can you love me with all that I've done ?"

The Blade: The Soldier. “if you were to wear a crown it would be covered in blood. The one of the guilty.” “The sword is at your side. It bore your name long before you did.” is rather literal both for his name and The Blood God. “but how can I sleep with the world in my head?" “What is hell anyway? Doubt”

Wilbur: The King. “Despite all your attempts, you have never been a healer. You hurt people and they leave and you are alone in a room full of silence. You sing to try and forget, but it does not work” everything about this. Trying to heal but being made of destruction, his fears of devouring his family, singing, memory loss, everything everything it’s so Wilbur. "come and be human with me" “The one who hurt you haunts you. In your nightmares, they say I love you." <literally Phil’s last words when Wilbur killed him in the Whumptober au. "but how can I sleep with the world in my head?" why it has insomnia.

Philza: The Poet. “There are rules. How many? One, and you will follow it.” For his Collected. “Fear: You did your best and it wasn't enough. You tried and failed and kept trying and it wasn't enough. You had the power to change things and it wasn't enough.” For all his dead children. "you’re trembling, but he reaches over and he touches you, like a prayer for which no words exist" it's him reaching out. I love the reverse imagery with Phil, a god worshiping his mortals “anger is a strength in a world of apathy.” He feels no shame or burden for his anger, knowing well the good it can do. “Who taught you about guilt? The silence” 

Tubbo: The King. Absolutely perfect as a foil to The Blade btw. “What is duty? Undeniable” “The throne looks golden, and covered in flowers” “Fear: You did your best and it wasn't enough. You tried and failed and kept trying and it wasn't enough.” Saving people from Philza. “The one who hurt you haunts you. In your nightmares, they say I forgive you” Rosaliiiiiind. “Who taught you about guilt? God”

[likeastarstar]

4:10 PM- Namjoon

You woke up from your nap because of the heat, the humidity stirring you from the dream you had been having. Just a normal dream, nothing out of the ordinary. A good dream- you hadn't had a nightmare since Namjoon had busted into your room one night with his laptop, declaring it was time for a vacation.

Before that, things had gotten a little...stressful. Life was hard, being an adult was harder. The first thing to go when you were stressed out was your sleep, starting with nightmares and ending with insomnia. Joon hadn't said much but noticed when your side of the bed was more messed up than normal, a clear sign that you had spent the night tossing and turning instead of in his arms.

Pushing up from the bed, you looked around the room for your boyfriend, only finding a disarray of clothes littering around the space instead. You had been here for a week, staying in a floating hut on the river bank of a small town in Thailand. It was private and secluded, you only saw spoke to other people when you went into the town a little ways down the beach.

You padded out of the hut, pushing the netting that served as a bedroom wall to go out to the edge of the hut, sitting down so your feet dipped into the water. The sun was just setting, but God, it must've been over a hundred degrees with this humidity. The water was cooler, so you pulled the shirt you had off and dove in, dunking your head in the practically clear water to prevent yourself from overheating.

"You're going to get eaten alive by mosquitoes if you stay out here for too long."

You swam back to the edge of the hut, your eyes falling on a familiar tall, tanned man with his hair cropped short after he decided it was too hot to have hair anymore and made you buzz it off. He had a water bottle dangling in one hand, the other shoved lazily in his pocket. Thailand Namjoon was your favorite version so far, abandoning button downs and formal pants in favor for shorts and a short sleeved button down shirt, the top four buttons undone completely.

"You're back," You said cheerily, reaching out a hand. He took it willingly, stroking the top of your hand with his thumb. "So what? Was it a bust?" You asked, referencing the reason he left in the first place.

"No, I got some writing done." he said happily, reaching for a towel for me. "You aren't wearing a swimsuit again, are you?"

You grinned and shook your head, pulling yourself out of the water unabashedly. Namjoon raised his eyebrows and skimmed his eyes over your body, a smirk settling onto his face. "You're very frisky tonight." He commented.

You pushed the towel away and stepped closer to him, flattening your body against his. "You knew the deal," You whispered, wrapping an arm around his shoulders and ran another through his hair, raking over it with your damp fingers. You didn't bother caring about being dripping wet, it wasn't like he was going to have clothes on for very much longer anyway.

He grinned, obviously knowing what you were referring to. You had made a deal, he would spend the day writing but when he came back- you owned him and his time. You had something important you wanted to talk to him about and you wanted his undivided attention for it. "Let's talk about this where the neighbors can't see your ass," he grumbled, wrapping you in the towel and lifting you back to the bedroom.

He set you down on the bed, watching you push the hair off your shoulders and adjust your towel delicately. "I'm ready," You said, looking up at him. Namjoon didn't say a word, searching your facial expression for a shred of doubt he wouldn't see.

"What if you regret it?" He asked sadly, looking down at his hands twisting themselves into a knot. You took his hand in yours and unwound his fingers, wishing he'd stop saying that.

"You're part of my soul, Joon. I want to marry you." You kissed him quickly, to reassure him. You wanted him and to be tethered to him in every earthly way was the only thing on your mind ever since he had brought the idea up conversationally three months ago. You had been so stressed out it had caused a panic attack initially- not because the answer was no, but because the idea of getting married was so overwhelming it was a lot to take in at the moment. You mind immediately went to how much change would be happening, skipping over Namjoon completely.

Not your finest moment.

"I want to marry you too," He smiled, his dimples melting your heart as they always did. "And we can do it our way, it can just be us and our parents, if you want."

You nodded and he mirrored your motion, and that was that. You were going to get married.

"We'll do it our way," I mumbled, looking up at him just before Namjoon cupped your face in his free hand and kissed you urgently, leaning into your body. You felt him push the towel down and off of you, resting a hand between your shoulder blades, and using it as a guide to lay you down on the bed. The place where he touched you tingled slightly, you head spinning like it always did when he kissed you.

"I can't wait to be your husband," He whispered to you, hovering above you slightly with his arms caging you in. You felt safe with him, anxiety soothed. Sure, there would be times were you'd be stressed out and scared and probably would freak out at some point- but at least you had him. You'd always have him.

masterlist.

(A/N: whimpers)

[edgy-ella]

Super Smash Bros critical hit quotes

To contribute to the recent efforts to turn Smash Bros into Fire Emblem with Nintendo All Stars, I thought it would be cool/funny to add critical hit quotes to Smash Bros characters. Maybe they could say these whenever they used their final smashes (some of them already do lmao). Or, if we ever do get a tactics RPG with Nintendo characters which would be THE DREAM, Nintendo could use these. Some of these were really easy, others were really hard. I bet you can guess which ones.

Also, for characters who communicate with singular noises/grunts, I’ve added a translation of what they’re actually saying.

Mario:

“Lets-a go!”

“Mario time!”

“Mama Mia!”

“Wahoo!”

Donkey Kong:

“Banana slamma!”

“DK! Donkey Kong!”

“You’re an absolute zero!”

“Here I come!”

Link:

“My courage will prevail!”

“This is just between you and me.”

“…Now!”

“I’m dangerous, you know.”

Samus:

“For true peace!”

“You’ve done well.”

“Time to pay up!”

“Mission complete.”

Dark Samus:

“I will corrupt you.”

“The thrill of battle.”

“Touch me. I dare you.”

“Dead on arrival!”

Yoshi:

“Yoshi!” (Peace!)

“Hm hm, hup!” (I’m finished with you!)

“Yoshi yo?” (Fried or scrambled?)

“Yo yo yo!” (Don’t be such a baby!)

Kirby:

“Haiii!” (Hello!)

“Poyo poyo!” (Thanks for playing with me!)

“Uwaaah!” (Hey, that hurt!)

“Hiyaaa!”

Fox:

“Here I come!”

“Better luck next time.”

“It’s go time!”

“Mission complete.”

Pikachu:

“Pika pika!” (Bye bye!)

“Piii, pikachu?” (Oh, you want some more?)

“Chu, pika pi!” (I’m electrifying!)

“Pika pi pi!” (Sparks are flying!)

Luigi:

“Let’s-a go…”

“Go, green!”

“Bang, bang!”

“ACHOOO!”

Captain Falcon:

“Come on!”

“Show me your moves!”

“I’m number one!”

“Guess I’ll have to show off!”

Ness:

“Say fuzzy pickles!”

“Batter up!”

“You stink!”

“Does it hurt yet?”

Jigglypuff:

“Puff puff…” (I’m getting sleepy…)

“Jigglypuff jiggly jiggly!” (Time for a power ballad!)

“Jiggly, jigglypuff puff?” (Would you like an encore?)

“Jigglypuff puff jiggly!” (Sing with me now!)

Peach:

“Sweet!”

“This is fun!”

“Don’t hit me!”

“Want some cake?”

Daisy:

“Sweet!”

“I got it!”

“I’m the best!”

“Hi, I’m Daisy!”

Bowser:

“Bowser time!”

“I’m oughta rip your stuffing out!”

“Even scarier up close, huh?”

“Bwahahaha!”

Ice Climbers:

“Knock ‘em out!”

“Double trouble!”

“You’re wobbling!”

“Catch and release!”

Sheik:

“Time is cruel.”

“For my people!”

“Silence.”

“We will meet again.”

Zelda:

“Victory is a step away!”

“For my people!”

“I will not yield!”

“It would be wise to stand down.”

Dr. Mario:

“You are terminally ill.”

“The doctor will see you now.”

“I diagnose you with defeat!”

“Clear!”

Pichu:

“Pichu pi pi…” (This is exhausting…)

“Pichu pichu!” (My time to shine!)

“Chu, pichu pi!” (I’m electrifying!)

“Pi pichu chu!” (You’re such a baby!)

Falco:

“Had enough yet?”

“Gotta jet!”

“Quit moving around!”

“I’ll take you down with one shot!”

Marth:

“Eyes on me!”

“This is it!”

“Forgive me!”

“Shine, Falchion!”

Lucina:

“Time to change fate!”

“You will not stop me!”

“Hope will never die!”

“Our bonds give me strength!”

Young Link:

“My courage will prevail!”

“No hard feelings.”

“I’ll show you a terrible fate!”

“Hey, you! Listen up!”

Ganondorf:

“Pathetic little fool!”

“Your place is beneath me!”

“I am your demise!”

“Behold my power!”

Mewtwo:

“Do not defy me.”

“Pathetic.”

“You’re a fool.”

“Your thoughts betray you.”

Roy:

“I won’t lose!”

“By my blade!”

“For those I must protect!”

“My flame burns bright!”

Chrom:

“Anything can change!”

“Now I’m mad!”

“I will not fail!”

“Our bonds give me strength!”

Mr. Game & Watch:

“RING!” (NINE!)

“Beep beep bop beep.” (I am beyond your comprehension)

“Breep BOP!” (Now DIE!)

“Boop boop beep bop.” (The time has come!)

Meta Knight:

“Know my power!”

“Behold!”

“Come meet your doom!”

“You will not escape!”

Pit:

“You’re finished!”

“Bye now!”

“It’s game over for you!”

“Say your prayers!”

Dark Pit:

“Goodbye!”

“It’s time!”

“Game over.”

“Nothing personal.”

Zero Suit Samus:

“Be still.”

“You’re mine.”

“I object!”

“Stunning, isn’t it?”

Wario:

“I’m-a gonna win!”

“Stinker!”

“You smell that?”

“WAHAHAHA!”

Snake:

“It’s showtime.”

“War has changed.”

“I won’t shed tears for you.”

“Be quiet.”

Ike:

“Prepare yourself.”

“No holding back!”

“Amateur.”

“Out of my way!”

Pokémon Trainer:

“It’s super effective!”

“A critical hit!”

“Go get ‘em!”

“We’re a top percentage team!”

Diddy Kong:

“You’re outta here!”

“I’m one tough Kong!”

“Here’s my chance!”

“Hoo hah!”

Lucas:

“Don’t back down now…”

“I’m sorry!”

“You must be tired.”

“I can endure this!”

Sonic:

“Now I’ll show you!”

“I’ll always keep on running!”

“Do you know who I am?”

“You’re too slow!”

King Dedede:

“You ready to get clobbered?”

“I’ll kick you to the curb!”

“Bow before my majesty!”

“I am D-D-Devious!”

Olimar:

“You were a fine research specimen.”

“Courage, Olimar!”

“I must survive!”

“Carry, fight, multiply!”

Lucario:

“The aura is with me!”

“I can smell your fear!”

“You can’t hide from me!”

“That was your last mistake.”

R.O.B.:

“Now terminating.”

“Initiating critical attack.”

“ERROR: Life not found.”

“I am Robotic Obliterating Buddy.”

Toon Link:

“My courage will prevail!”

“You want a piece of me?”

“Let’s get dangerous!”

“Do you hear the wind blowing?”

Wolf:

“What’s the matter, scared?”

“Playtime’s over.”

“You’re good, but I’m better.”

“Can’t let you do that!”

Villager:

“Now, scram!”

“Time to get buried!”

“This is gonna hurt!”

“Who’s the mighty one now?”

Mega Man:

“Leave it to me!”

“I’ll make you pay!”

“This is for the greater good!”

“You must be stopped!”

Wii Fit Trainer:

“Feel the burn!”

“Let’s get fired up!”

“You’re off balance!”

“No pain, no gain!”

Rosalina:

“I’ll put you to sleep.”

“Children, avert your eyes!”

“Let us begin!”

“Away with you!”

Little Mac:

“Don’t underestimate me!”

“I’m gonna punch you out!”

“This one’s for the Bronx!”

“Dance like a fly, bite like a mosquito!”

Greninja:

“Gre nin.” (Silent takedown.)

“Ja, Greninja!” (Now, you must die!)

“Gre, ninja gre…” (Just as the flow of the ocean…)

“Gre JAJAJAJA!” (Hiyayayaya!)

Palutena:

“You shall be purified.”

“Time for some divine intervention!”

“I won’t hold back!”

“Say your prayers!”

Pac-Man:

“Get ready!”

“Let’s put a smile on that face!”

“Do you have a fevor?”

“Wakka wakka wakka wakka.”

Robin:

“Time to tip the scales!”

“Checkmate!”

“I have a plan!”

“Our bonds give me strength!”

Shulk:

“This is the Monado’s power!”

“I can change the future!”

“Looks like I don’t have a choice!”

“I’m really feeling it!”

Bowser Jr.:

“I won’t quit!”

“Are you watching, Dad?”

“You need some roughing up!”

“Hope you’re ready!”

Duck Hunt:

“Heheheheh~”

“Grrr…”

“AWOOOO!”

“Ruff, ruff!” (I’ll bite your ankles off!)

Ryu:

“I will finish this.”

“Now’s my chance!”

“Gotcha!”

“I’m not finished yet!”

Ken:

“You’re going down!”

“Get serious!”

“Gotcha!”

“Open your eyes!”

Cloud:

“No hard feelings.”

“Your luck’s run out.”

“I’m breaking my limits!”

“Not interested.”

Corrin:

“This ends here!”

“I make my own fate!”

“I won’t surrender!”

“Open the way, please!”

Bayonetta:

“Let’s dance, boys!”

“New ‘do, dead you!”

“You’ve been naughty!”

“Flock off!”

Inkling:

“Woomy!” (Booyah!)

“Ngyes!” (Aww yeah!)

“Wo squalimey!” (Come on, this way!)

“Say fwess!” (Stay fresh!)

Ridley:

“You’re about to die!”

“I make a big impression!”

“Start screaming.”

“You’ll make for a good snack.”

Simon:

“My path is clear!”

“On my honor as a Belmont!”

“I vanquish the darkness!”

“I offer only defeat.”

Richter:

“You don’t belong in this world!”

“Begone, monster!”

“I vanquish the darkness!”

“Farewell.”

King K. Rool:

“I’ve had enough of this!”

“Nothing can stop me!”

“You’re all doomed!”

“Any last requests?”

Isabelle:

“My apologies!”

“Now you’ve done it!”

“I’m gonna go Isaballistic on you!”

“Will that be all?”

Incineroar:

“Grahaha!”

“Cineroar!” (I’m gonna put on a show!)

“Incin!” (Oh, yeah!)

“Incineroar, cin?” (You want an autograph?)

Piranha Plant:

“Plant gang!”

“You see these pearly whites?”

“For Lord Bowser!”

“I’m about to head out.”

Joker:

“The show’s over.”

“You never saw it coming!”

“I’m going to ravage you!”

“Time to steal your heart!”

Hero:

“But I must!”

“Have you wet your knickers?”

“My turn!”

“Time to get critical!”

“HOES MAD”

Banjo and Kazooie:

Banjo: “I’m sorry!”

Banjo: “Out of the way, please!”

Kazooie: “You can shove it!”

Kazooie: “Get bent, nerd!”

Both: “We’re raring to go!”

Terry:

“Are you okay?”

“Hey, c’mon!”

“Bingo!”

“Take it easy!”

Byleth:

“Here is something to believe in!”

“Allow me to demonstrate!”

“Let this be a lesson!”

“No hesitation!”

Bonus:

Sans:

“You’re gonna have a bad time.”

“Get dunked on!”

“This’ll hurt a skele-ton!”

“Sorry about this, pal…”

Cuphead:

“You’re up!”

“Don’t mess with me!”

“Ready for a walloping?”

“Oh, it’s on!”

[twistytwine]

Vietnamese Fantasy Universe: “Tóc Tiên”

Trigger warnings: Child abuse (emotional and physical), eye trauma, injury, self-harm, mentions of suicide, trauma, childhood trauma, stalking, medical operations, lobotomy

Tóc Tiên's mother didn't have a fair childhood. When she was younger, her mentally ill mother, with little to no proper care or treatment from medical services, dunked her own head into a boiling pot of water, and her young five-year-old daughter had to drag her outside for the doctors who spoke of "magic" to "heal" her wounds. 

She returned to their home to lay on the single bamboo bed, her head wrapped in bandages, and from that day on, she did not stand up to walk, nor did she manage to cook much food for her and her child. The young girl that lived with her fed her, took her to the bathroom, and even groomed what was left of her hair. One day, the mother was taken by the same doctors who "healed" the burns on her face to a bamboo tent. 

The girl sat outside and waited. When her mother came out, she no longer had bandages on her head, but instead she wore a scar on her forehead, and that was when the girl realized she'd truly lost her mother forever. When she cried, the mother gave her soulless hugs, and when she was hungry, the mother wouldn't even notice the growling of her stomach or soft whines. She offered cuddles and kisses on the head, but they never felt the same as before.

The girl grew up through money earned from years of working at an empress' palace, and she fell in love with a noble lord who'd scammed his way up to the rich class. She got pregnant, and the lord, noticing her severe mental health issues, tried to convince her to give the baby up for adoption, for she was not well enough to care for a child as of yet. 

But she dreamed of giving a child a future that she couldn't have, so she ran away from the noble's home at night to give birth to the baby on her own. The first thing she noticed of the baby was its wonderful locks of hair that appeared upon birth, so she named her Tóc Tiên, which translates to Vietnamese as “magic hair.”

Tóc Tiên and her mother lived in a faraway abandoned tower, high above the mossy swamps and forests of villagers and townspeople on their floating markets and houses stilted deep water. The mother adored Tóc Tiên's hair, and so she let it grow out, longer and longer until the hair was a waterfall of several feet at the age of ten. And around ages 13 to 14, Tóc Tiên started developing her own personal urges and identity. She wanted to see outside. Her mother would visit the markets of the swampy village to get food and all the luxuries she could afford for her daughter, but she never invited Tóc Tiên herself to visit the village with her.

So she was curious. Of course, the mother was absolutely terrified of the possibility of losing her child, so she denied Tóc Tiên of ever leaving their isolated home. 

But through the years, Tóc Tiên continued to develop her own opinions, her own wants and needs. And through the months, her mother became more and more oppressive to her daughter's own will without realizing it. She was horrified at the thought of Tóc Tiên escaping and leaving her, for that would mean a failure as a mother, someone meant to take care of something so precious. But the emotional abuse and neglect got worse.

Their only times of silence and cooperation was when they were doing chores together or when the mother ran her fingers through Tóc Tiên's enormous length of hair, combing it so there wasn't a single knot.   

Until one day, Tóc Tiên suggested the thought of moving out to live on her own next year. Her mother erupted in sadness and rage. Tóc Tiên spoke against her, speaking of how for so long she became so hurt and felt as if she couldn't breathe whenever her mother ignored her own identity. Her mother cries that she should be grateful for having a mother, for her own became empty and broken when she was so young as a child.

At the age of 18, Tóc Tiên ends up trying to escape the tower. Her mother tugs her back in and lectures her angrily before sending her to her room. Tóc Tiên, distressed, ends up pulling and cutting all of her hair out -- her mother enters the room to find this ocean of black strands surrounding her daughter, and Tóc Tiên mutters, "I'm tired of feeling your hands running through my hair. It sickens me. It haunts me. I want it to stop."

Her mother loses it. She forces Tóc Tiên into her own wardrobe and ends up tying her wrists and ankles together with her own cut-off hair before doing the same to the knobs of the closet.

Around the same day, she goes out to the market to try and control herself. She's nearly having a breakdown when she finds the noble lord she fell in love with long ago, now living as a peasant because he was found out to be a scammer of the rich. They catch up, and the mother accidentally reveals that she did not give up that baby for adoption, but instead has been raising it for 18 years.

The ex-noble (who will now be referred to as father from here on out) is horrified and deeply concerned, but the mother pushes him away and leaves in a deep anxiety with swarming guilt circling her head like a pack of mosquitoes.

The father stalks her until she leads the way to the tower, in which she enters. The father stays there and waits until he's sure she's asleep, and then he sneaks in. Tóc Tiên is released from her bounds, but after quiet conversation, he convinces her to try and escape with him. 

They attempt to, but the mother finds them trying to sneak out, in which in a fit of rage, she accidentally shoves him over the open window of the tower where he falls and his face crashes into a bush of thorns, where he permanently becomes blind due to the injuries. He limps away and blindly wanders into the swampy village where peasants help him recover.

The mother wilts in guilt and shame but hardheaded emotions, and she lives another two years with her daughter. Until Tóc Tiên tries to physically attack her mother in order to escape, in which they get into a fight and she brings Tóc Tiên to "doctors" -- and after their operation is done, Tóc Tiên leaves the medical tent with a scar on her forehead. The mother expects for their relationship to get better, but it only gets worse.

A long while later, the father returns to that same tower, except with help, mostly from a dog that helps him navigate. The mother is exhausted and contemplating taking her own life, but somethow she doesn't want to leave Tóc Tiên here. She could never. 

When she finds the father waiting at the bottom of the tower, she has no strength to keep her daughter with her. It took her so long, but she finally realizes she is not fit to be a mother. So she gives Tóc Tiên to the blind father, and even when circumstances are utterly bitter, cruel, and depressing, Tóc Tiên bids goodbye to her mother, saying an empty, "I love you" when she can no longer truly remember what it means, and the mother returning, "I love you, too," when she realizes the damage she's inflicted onto the child. 

Tóc Tiên and the blind father leave, leaving the mother alone by herself in the tower. She does nothing to herself. She just waits for the day she can feel again.

[kim-seungmine]

stay inside the hourglass

title: stay inside the hourglass

characters: reader x felix of stray kids

genre: slice-of-life (growing up is hard y’all), romance, gap year

warnings: mentions of drinking, kind of felix-centric, this has the ugliest title ever, sometimes dialog-heavy

word count: 4475 words

summary: time is about to eat him alive and felix wonders if it’s better to leave things unsaid. 

a/n: so here it is, the story based on chronosaurus and 19. i honestly don’t know if it’s good enough because i’m not in my best condition now but i hope you can relate and find comfort (and motivation!)

Seoul, D-90

“What is this?”

“Your birthday present.”

“I said I didn’t want presents, did I?”

“You did.”

“So why bother—”

“So you’ll always remember me. The one who still gave you presents no matter how many times you said no.”

Felix chuckled, staring at the small white box you forced him to take. He opened it, taking out a keyring you specially made for him. He could guess the meaning behind each pendant; a star because you adored his constellation-like freckles, a mosquito because his only talent that you acknowledged was his ability to imitate mosquito noises, a four-leaf clover because his name literally meant luck.

The last pendant, however, was something he didn’t expect. An hourglass. He stared at it long, racking his brain so he didn’t have to ask you what it meant. You were going to nag at him for hours for not getting it right and he hated it.

That, and he just didn’t want to disappoint you.

“What does this one mean?”

He didn’t want to disappoint you, but he also really had no idea. You smiled, watching the sand slowly trickled to the lower part of the chamber. “I’ll tell you later,” you chirped before flicking his forehead. “Happy birthday, Lee Yongbok.”

Felix would’ve flipped if it was anyone else who hurt him and called him Yongbok. But this was you, one of his very few true friends in Seoul, and he would keep you by his side for a lifetime, even though he knew that time would eventually eat him alive before he could tell you how much you meant to him.

“Okay,” he replied, already used to you and your so-called mysteriousness.  He opened his drawer to take out his airpods case. You instantly pouted as he attached your keyring to it while he just grinned at you. “You really know how to disappoint me,” you mumbled.

“Everyone knows you only use your Beats earphones, dipshit. You can’t fool me!”

Felix didn’t know which part of “I don’t wanna celebrate my birthday this year” that his friends failed to understand, but there was nothing he could do when Seo Changbin dragged him out of their shared apartment later that day, telling him that everyone threw him a party.

“You don’t even need to change, you’re already wearing black.”

“There’s a dresscode?” Felix snarked. “Even I didn’t know about that.”

Changbin sighed as they stopped in front of Bang Chan’s apartment, which was only 2 floors above theirs. Lee Minho opened the door, the glint in his eyes indicated that he was already drunk. He grinned, patting Felix’s back before smooching his left cheek. Changbin quickly maneuvered his way in and abandoned his housemate who was now struggling to get out of Minho’s tight embrace. “Are you sad now that you’re 20?” he slurred. “Don’t worry, you’ll be fine. Look at me!” Felix removed Minho’s arms from his shoulders, giving him a pat on the shoulder as he slowly lost consciousness.

Walking to the living room, Felix finally realized what kind of party his friends threw for him. Black balloons were sloppily glued to Chan’s gray curtain, most of them already scattered on the floor. The host had covered his white sofa with a black cloth and exchanged his usual glass table with black wooden table. Someone had written “HAPPY MOURNDAY FELIX!” on the whiteboard pinned on the wall. He assumed it was you, since it was written with a bright red marker instead of the blue ones that Chan owned.

His eyes caught a glimpse of empty boxes of pizza and bottles of soju on the floor, causing him to scoff. His friends threw him a party but didn’t even wait for him to come before actually starting the party. “Hey Felix!” Chan yelled, smiling from ear to ear from the other side of the living room. Felix gave him a distracted wave since he finally saw you, playing Charades with Hwang Hyunjin while sitting on the countertop.

“O—oh! I know this one!” you yelled, biting your lips in frustration. “Come on Y/N we played this set before!” Hyunjin groaned, proceeding to give you more hints. Felix chuckled, knowing how much you hated losing to Hyunjin.

“Aladdin!” Felix quipped, laughing as you whipped your head at him in utter despair. “Don’t be so proud.” You punched his stomach playfully. “This just means you spend too much time watching cartoons.”

Felix placed his hand around your waist loosely, unable to contain his amusement at your rambles. He swore to God he had tried to keep his distance from you, to draw a straight line between best friends and something more. It never worked—especially when you didn’t push him away—but maybe Felix never tried hard enough, and he hated himself for that. Hyunjin gave him the look, which roughly translated to, “Stop being a dick and just confess!”

“Felix, play with Y/N. We gotta prepare your cake,” Hyunjin announced, winking at the birthday boy before dashing to the balcony, where Kim Seungmin was taking photos of the cake with his new Canon camera.  

“You have really nice friends,” you commented, shaking your phone so it showed a new word. Felix bit an imaginary apple before collapsing on the floor, his eyeballs rolled to the back of his eyes. “Snow White didn’t pass out like that, you’re so dramatic,” you said, smiling as he pretended to offer you the poisoned apple.

“So did you join the photography club?” he asked. You furrowed your brows, trying to understand what he was acting out. “Tiana?” you murmured. He nodded, signaling at you to move on to the next question. “Well,” you started. “I did. Seungmin was very persuasive.”

Felix darted his eyes to the drunken Minho who was fast asleep on the couch. “Did you tell your parents yet?” Your voice was barely a whisper, breaking Felix’s heart into pieces. This was the conversation he dreaded to have; he wanted to enjoy his last few months in Seoul without thinking that he wouldn’t meet you ever again.

“I did,” he answered, glancing at the word Peter Pan written on your phone screen. “Mum said no, but my Dad said he’d consider.”

“When are you leaving?” You no longer held your phone up, shoving it back to your jeans pocket instead.

“In three months.”

You huffed, resting your head on his shoulder. “Is this why you’ve been so gloomy these days?” you pointed out. Felix rested his head on top of yours, the familiar warmth of your body calmed his senses. “Who knows I’d get so attached to dumbasses like you guys?” he attempted to joke.

Last year, all Felix wanted was to figure out what his passion was and explore Korea. His parents were ecstatic because their son finally showed interest in his home country and let him take a gap year, with a condition that he’d enroll in university as soon as he returned to Sydney. He stayed with his aunt, accidentally met Chan at a restaurant where he struggled to order kimchi fried rice with his super limited Korean, and then he introduced him to all his close friends—including you.

Fast forward to a year later, Felix now lived with Changbin who desperately needed a housemate, got a part-time job at Ediya Coffee, discovered a burning passion in dancing, had 8 annoying brothers, and was helplessly in love with you.

“What did you tell them?” you said quickly, as if wanting to stop yourself. Felix pulled away to look into your eyes that he already got used to seeing at least 10 hours a day. “I told them I want to stay here and major in dance.”

“You did?”

“What did you expect me to say?”

“Well—”

“HAPPY MOURNDAY FELIX!!!!”

Chan carried the black cake (Felix wasn’t sure if it was edible) while the others sang for him. “Blow the candles! We don’t give a shit whether you want to do it or not, you have to blow candles on your birthday!” Han Jisung said. Seungmin snapped a photo as Felix closed his eyes to blow the colorful candles.

“Thanks guys, although I specifically said not to do anything today.”

“Y/N wanted to throw you a party, and they specifically said not to care about anything you said.”

You shrugged. “This isn’t even a birthday party, this is a funeral.”

“Goodbye 19!” Seungmin fake-wailed, dunking Felix’s face into the cake. The others clapped, smearing each other’s faces with whipped cream. You giggled, trying to run away but Felix caught you by the waist before squishing your cheeks with his palms.

“Ah, you’re back!” you exclaimed, looking into his eyes in a way that always made his heart stopped for a while. Felix wondered if you ever looked at anyone else the same way, but for now, he felt a bit reassured. You looked at him like he had stars in his eyes (in this case, his cheeks, but now they were all covered by whipped cream anyways), and at moments like this, Felix thought that maybe he wouldn’t lose you.

“I’m… back?”

You paused to step away from Changbin who wanted to ruin your face more before glancing back at him, still with that loving gaze Felix wanted to take a picture of and hang on his wall.

“The sparks,” you pointed at his eyes. “You’re happy again.”

The rest of the group turned to look at him better, and by the look on their faces, Felix knew they agreed with you.

Seoul, D-57

“Yongbok-ah, your Dad is calling!” Changbin shouted from the kitchen. Felix sighed, dragging his feet to where his phone was located. He didn’t need to answer the call to know what his father was going to say.

“Hi Dad.”

“Your Mum and I have talked. Are you serious with dancing?”

Changbin gave him a concerned look as Felix’s face hardened. “Yes,” he answered, firm and clear. “I have thought about everything, Dad. I want to dance. And I want to stay here.”

His father sighed on the other line, his Mum yelling something that sounded like, “That naïve boy knows nothing!”

“Have I ever disobeyed you before?” Felix argued. “I just want to do something that I love. That’s right, I was clueless when I first got here, but I’m not the same boy anymore. You guys can trust me.”

“I don’t know, son. You got good grades, why don’t you try challenging yourself?”

“Dancing is not easy, Dad.”

“We know that. Just, come home, okay? We’ll discuss this later.”

Felix let out a frustrated groan once the call ended. Changbin sat across him, opening a can of beer. “You know things won’t work out if you keep being like that, right?”

“Like what?”

“Like this. Snobbish and stubborn.”

Felix met his housemate’s eyes, biting his lips when he realized how serious Changbin’s eyes looked. “All you do is mopping around everywhere while you only have a few months to be here. Y/N and the others are trying to make you as happy as possible, and what have you done?”

“I never asked you guys to do any of that for me.” His tone was harsh and Felix regretted it as soon as those words slipped out of his month. Changbin got up from his seat, throwing the empty beer can to the trashcan.

“You’re right,” he answered. “You never asked anything but we did it anyways. Why? Because we think of you as our friend. Do you even realize how much Y/N has done for you?”

“It’s not my fault that I have to leave! It’s not my fault that I like Y/N, and it’s definitely not my fault that I can’t tell them that,” Felix challenged. Changbin shrugged, taking his jacket from the nightstand before walking out.

“None of this is your fault,” he agreed. “But acting like you’re the most unlucky person in the world and doing nothing to change that isn’t right either. Especially when feelings are involved. But you do you, man.”

When your name appeared on his phone screen, Felix wasn’t sure whether he wanted to cry in happiness or bang his head on the wall. He hadn’t seen you for weeks, and it wasn’t that he tried to avoid you, but he had been dancing any chance he got. He begged Minho to take him to every of his gig to observe, but after the second gig the dancer officially asked him to join his crew. But the truth was, he did kind of use it as a reason to reply to your messages late.

Felix had no idea how to face you and hid his feelings. Maybe he didn’t have to, but it would be unfair. He tried to ask Chan what to do, but his Sydney mate only said that all he needed to do was listen to himself. A very cliché, movie-like answer—although it wasn’t exactly wrong.

Another message from you came in, and as much as Felix wanted to make this easier for you (and him), he missed you a lot. So he replied, got out of his bed, and sprinted to your place.

“Can we order pizza?” he said as soon as you opened your door. You nodded, looking somehow surprised at his presence. “I thought you weren’t coming,” you mumbled, letting him in. Felix slipped into the pink slippers you specially prepared for him whenever he came over, and somehow, he felt like he was home.

“Where are the others?”

You plopped onto your beanbag, scrolling through movies on Netflix that had “zombie” in the titles. Felix took a seat beside you, watching you read the movies’ descriptions. “Jisung has a date—”

“Oh that’s surprising.”

You chuckled. “Changbin and Woojin are at work, Chan is busy composing for—wait. You didn’t read the group chat?”

Felix scratched the back of his head as if he had been caught. He hadn’t been really talking to any of his friends except Minho since his fight with Changbin. “I-I,” he stuttered. “Probably accidentally turned the notifs off.”

You frowned, but was quickly distracted as you finally found the movie you wanted to watch—which didn’t have any correlation to zombies. “I wanted to believe you, but I think you’re avoiding us. Am I right?”

The movie had started playing, but you shifted your gaze to him. “What’s wrong? Are you upset because we threw you a party when you said you didn’t one? Are you upset with me?”

Felix shook his head. “Not at all, but things have been pretty… complicated.”

“Mind to elaborate?”

“I’m leaving soon.”

“We’re fully aware of that, Felix.”

He ran his hand through his hair, desperately trying to form words that wouldn’t make him sound like an ungrateful asshole. “Yeah, it’s just—it’s hard. I want to stay, but—”

“Do you really want to stay?” you whispered, pausing the movie before giving him a stern look.

Felix felt his body burning—why was it so hard for you, Changbin, his other friends, and his parents to understand that he never wanted to leave? That he had found a new home which could be scary, but also beautiful?

“Oh God. First Changbin, now you. Why won’t anyone believe me?!”

You tried to blink your tears away, which broke Felix’s heart because he knew how much you hated crying in front of other people.  “Because you’re not fighting for it, Felix! You’re not fighting for us or even yourself and suddenly I’m not sure about anything anymore. Time never slows down for anyone!”

Now you were sobbing, your head hung low. Felix threw his arms around you, rubbing your back slowly as you let out everything you had been holding in. You didn’t say anything for the rest of the night, not even when he said he would come over again later.  

When Felix reached his aunt’s house at 2:48 AM, still wearing your pink slippers, it hit him. Out of all things he was afraid of, disappointing you was what he feared the most. Sadly, just like how this world worked, the one you were closest with was always the one whom disappointed you the most.

Felix had become that person for you, probably since a long time ago and he only realized it now. Tears started rolling down his cheeks, and before he could stop himself, he was already sobbing the way you did a few hours ago. He cried and cried and cried until his eyes felt dry and his throat felt raw.

He didn’t feel any better.

“You’re earl—wait what happened?!”

Minho panicked as he spotted Felix entering the dance studio with a camcorder and swollen eyes. The latter only shook his head and waved his camcorder. “Minho, can I record myself dancing for the rest of my time here?” he asked.

“Sure you can, we usually record ourselves anyways, but why?”

Felix smiled, turning on his camcorder and setting it next to Minho’s laptop before warming up. Minho joined him, and the stretching session soon turned into a flexibility showoff. Both of them laughed when Felix managed to do a perfect split and surprised himself.  

“Seriously though, why are you doing this?” Minho repeated, waving to the camera.

“I want to stay here.”

Minho ran to his laptop to play a new song. “Isn’t that clear?” he teased, glancing at his friend.

“Yeah, but not clear enough.”

“Y/N I need to tell you something,” Felix rasped the moment you opened the door. You made a way for him to enter your flat, ignoring his Converse that he forgot to wear on his way out yesterday. Before he reached the living room, you stopped him. “Leave them in the bathroom, they’re dirty,” you said, pointing at your slippers he was wearing.

“I’m sorry,” Felix responded. “For the slippers, and for everything.” He stared at them before taking them off. “I didn’t want to disappoint you, but I did just that, didn’t I?”

Felix cupped your face, automatically wiping the corners of your eyes when he noticed you tearing up. “You were so bright, like these slippers,” he whispered. “I did everything with you, but forgot to take care of you. Too scared to show how much you mean to me. Now you’re even crying in front of me.”

“I didn’t want to say I love you because I was afraid that I wouldn’t be able to stay with you. I didn’t want you to be sad, but maybe I didn’t want me to be sad. I know this is too late and I’ve kept you waiting for so long, but I love you.”

“I really want to stay, I really want to be with the others, I really want to dance. And most importantly, I really want to be with you, and I’m going to do everything in my power to make that happen. I’m sorry that the fight with Changbin and you needed to happen before I came back to my senses, I’m—”

You caught his lips with your fingers, chuckling at how much he resembled a fish with his lips puckered. “If you’re sorry, wash the slippers yourself, okay?”

Felix whined, but walked towards the bathroom immediately. “Wait, there’s no ‘I forgive you Felix?’, ‘I love you too, Felix’, ‘Please stay with me, Felix’?” he protested, pouting as you returned to your room.

“Make sure to turn off the lights when you leave, Yongbok!”

Seoul, D-15

“Where’s the submit button?”

“There, bottom right.”

“Where?!”

“Goddamn it, Felix it’s right. there!”

Changbin grabbed the mouse from Felix and scrolled down, clicking the submit button. “Okay, it’s done!”

“Now what do we do?” Felix asked, plopping back to his bed. “The announcement for early admission is still two months away, I feel so empty now.”

“Still no words from your parents?”

“Well they said we’ll discuss this again if I get accepted.”

“What if you don’t?”

“I’ll apply again? The new semester won’t start until next year anyways.”

Felix had decided to apply to one of the most prestigious Arts colleges in Korea after recording all his dance practices and competitions (he only joined 2, but Minho was kind enough to let him be the center for all of them).

You opened the door with a loud bang, your eyes twinkled even brighter than usual. “What happened? Did they respond?” Changbin muttered, getting more excited as you nodded rapidly.

“Who responded to what?” Felix frowned, but both Changbin and you ignored him and were busy talking among yourselves. “They’re gonna tell him soon. We did it!” you shouted and pulled him into a tight hug.

“Guys, what’s going on?!”

You finally looked at Felix who looked lost and betrayed. Changbin punched his biceps with a huge grin on his face before leaving with no words. As soon as the door was shut, you jumped to his lap, curling your arms around his neck.

“Mind to tell me what’s making you so happy that you forgot about me and hugged Changbin instead?” he said, failed to keep his sarcastic tone since your eyes twinkled with so much joy he hadn’t seen for quite a long time.

You released him, running to his balcony—where you two often hung out when it wasn’t too cold or too hot. Felix followed you, taking your extended hand before pulling you into his arms. “Come on, babe,” he begged. “I’m dying here.”

“You’re going to stay here,” you stated, adjusting your position so you could look into his eyes. “Stay… where?” he asked, completely dumfounded.

“Here. With us.”

Felix tightened his hold on you as his legs wobbled. “WHAT?! HOW DO YOU KNOW THAT?”

You took out your phone from your pocket and played a video for him. “We took turns to record you during your last few months here, starting on your birthday. I thought that the only way to convince your parents that you love it here is by showing them.”

The video showed Felix on many occasions with you and his 8 friends; during his mournday party, during a movie night at Chan’s flat, during a dinner Felix’s aunt invited you to, during the random but entertaining dance battle with Minho, and also during a totally mundane afternoon with Changbin. 

Felix knew he was happy with all of you, but he never realized he was that happy. He felt his eyes brim with tears when he got to the last part of the video, in which he played Charades with you on his birthday.

Felix was the happiest with you, and he never wanted to let go.

“How in the world did you guys do this?” he sniffled, pulling you back to his embrace. You pulled him even closer, listening to his heartbeat. “How in the world did you not notice?” you giggled. Felix laughed along with you, pressing a kiss on the top of your head.

“I asked your aunt to contact your parents, and they allowed me to send the video,” you explained. “They called me this morning and told me that you don’t need to go back.”

“They told you before they told me?”

You slapped his back. “We dedicated a masterpiece for you and this is your response?”

“Sorry,” Felix winced. “And thank you.”

Felix pulled away, melting as you smiled at him. “Well done.” You patted his hair. “You’ve practiced so hard, I’m proud of you.” 

His heart clenched a little bit when you said that you were proud of him. That was exactly what he wanted to hear, but at the same time he wanted to hear more.

“And I love you.”

You gave Felix a quick peck on his lips and he desperately wanted to have your lips on his again, but he decided to stay still. You finally said that you loved him; that was all he needed to hear.

“You won’t ever have to doubt me anymore,” he said. “I’m not going to promise that I will never make you sad again, but I promise that I’ll always try my hardest for you. For us. I’m not going to hold back anymore, okay? Even if we’re running out of time.”

You were about to give him another peck, but he stopped you. “Speaking about time, will you tell me about the hourglass pendant you gave me? Can you tell me what it means now?”

Felix showed his phone to you, causing you to yelp when you found out that he had removed the said pendant from the original keyring and attached it to his phone instead. “Well, you’ve said it yourself,” you began. “I didn’t expect you to know what it means because it feels so personal.”

“Hourglass represents time, a reminder for us that time doesn’t stop for anyone, that everyone in this world has limited time. Time will catch up on us; we’ll run out of time and die, but I don’t care about that. Our time is limited, and I want to spend my limited time with you.”

“Is there anything else you want to say?” Felix asked after you stopped talking.

“Why?”

“I want to listen anything you say about time with that pretty voice of yours, but I also really want to kiss you.”

“Oh alright, kiss me then. But tell them to close the curtain first, please.”

Felix darted his eyes to the window, perplexed when he saw all of his friends standing there watching him and you. “No way!” Seungmin shouted, lifting his phone. “We have to show your parents this!” Hyunjin and Minho whistled along with the rest of the boys, causing Felix to hide his face on the crook of your neck.

“I was the one editing the video and I have many clips of your ugly faces that I won’t hesitate to post,” you threatened, still with a sweet smile on your face. The boys groaned, letting Chan drag them outside.

You caressed your boyfriend’s hair while he was muttering about how embarrassed he was. “You were acting so cool a few minutes ago, wanting to kiss me and all. Where did that Felix go?”

He lifted his head, his cheeks still a bit flushed. “Do you still want me to talk with this pretty voice of mine or—”

As soon as Felix captured your lips with his, everything that happened the past few months didn’t matter anymore. You were right there in his arms, mumbling about how you doubted that this was his first kiss because he was “so damn good in this.” His heart felt light and warm, and while he knows that this was only the beginning, he wasn’t afraid.

Felix was finally ready to confront time, to make every second of it worth the pain.  

more a/n: if you’ve reached this part, congratulations and thank you, as always! i’m sorry if felix can be so frustrating here, but that’s the whole point of this story: to allow him learn and grow from his mistakes. 

[varietydisco]

Bunny in a Bunny Suit

Characters: Arthur Morgan & John Marston, Hosea Matthews, Dutch van der Linde, Susan Grimshaw, Mac & Davey Callander Rating: Teen and Up Tags: Pre-Canon, Family dynamics, Trans Male Characters, Vague descriptions of non-sexual nudity, Silly but not technically crack Word Count: 3k

Description: Arthur tells young John an unfortunate lie. (Namesake: Bunny in a Bunny Suit by Simone Whittaker)

Part 3 of the Coming of Age series

1885

The first thing Arthur was greeted with upon riding into their temporary home— an abandoned, but well-off ranch on the plains— was Susan trudging over. She wore a lemon-soured expression that made Arthur briefly consider turning around and heading back for the mountains.

John leaned to one side and looked around Arthur’s shoulder to see what was happening.

“Afternoon, miss Grimshaw,” Arthur greeted. He touched the brim of his hat as he brought his horse to a slow stop beside the pasture fence.

As he lifted his leg, about to swing himself off the horse, Susan hurried her pace and waved her arms.

“Oh, no you don’t!” She exclaimed. “Don’t you boys even think of coming in here.”

“What? How come?” Arthur asked. “Did we get evicted while we was gone?”

Susan’s war-path came to a sudden stop and she huffed. With one finger held up at the boys, she turned back on her trail and went for a bucket of supplies hanging on a fence post a few feet away.

“…What’s she got?” John whispered.

“Somethin’ to beat us with, probably.” Arthur replied.

Bucket in hand, Susan stormed her way back over to the boys. Her expression never shifted once.

“I could smell you both comin’ a mile off,” She spat. “Just take one look at yourselves— you’re both disgusting.”

“I missed you, too.” Arthur said. “And why yes, we are safe and sound. Thanks for askin’.”

Susan huffed. “Take this down to the pond and go wash yourselves, before you even think of comin’ into the house.” She shoved the bucket up towards John, who awkwardly took it. The boy shot Arthur a quizzical look, his brows furrowed, then set it in his lap.

“You can’t be serious.”

Susan crossed her arms firmly. “Don’t test me, Morgan.”

Arthur groaned. He took his hat off and hooked it onto the horn of his saddle. His face was caked with dirt and sweat, and so were his clothes.

“We just finished a three-day huntin’ trip gatherin’ food for you lot, and we don’t even get a thank you.” He waved his hand back at John. “Marston here even caught his first rabbit. Not that you cared to ask any.”

“Good for him, doesn’t change that stench that followed you both home,” Susan made a shooing motion with her hand. “Leave what you caught here and get your asses down to the pond to wash. Don’t bother coming back until you’ve scrubbed every inch.”

“Lord Almighty,” Arthur mumbled. He reached back and elbowed John. “Hand that bucket over and unload the horse.”

John furrowed his brows.

“Why me?”

“‘Cause you smell the worse, and I want Grimshaw to get a good whiff.”

Susan scoffed and rolled her eyes. “Oh, grow up, Arthur.”

Arthur chuckled at that, while John eventually forked over the bucket and slid off the back of Boadicea. Silently, Arthur got a kick out of watching John fumble to untie their kill from the wagon and less silently did he enjoy watching Susan pluck at strands of John’s greasy hair while shaking her head in disgust.

Once the whole ordeal was done, John climbed back up, and the boys hit the trail again. As they approached the pond a few minutes later, John spoke up and said, bitterly, “That Grimshaw sure is a spitfire, isn’t she?”

“Not exactly the word I’d use to describe her most days, but that’ll work alright,” Arthur replied.

He rode Boadicea down a small, grassy slope which lead them to the pond’s bank. Mosquitoes and other bugs danced over the water’s silky-smooth surface. A frog leapt over a lily pad, and some birds chirped from the surrounding trees. The scene was pretty enough to have been a painting; Arthur only felt a little bad that they were about to use this pond to wash their asses.

Arthur pulled the horse to a stop and motioned his hand to John.

“Alright, let’s get this over with. Jump in.”

John faltered a second. “You ain’t serious. Clothes an’ all?”

“Naw, you’re right.” Arthur swung his leg and slid off the horse’s back. “Take your clothes off. We’ll have to burn ‘em at this point anyway, no sense in gettin’ them damp.”

John’s cheeks reddened. “Not you, too.”

“Yeah, me too. Now that Grimshaw’s mentioned it, and I’m standing down-wind of you, I can’t help noticin’ how ripe you are.”

Arthur swaggered towards the water. He made swift work of his coat and his shirt, both of which were promptly tossed aside onto some rocks. He scanned the water all the while and savoured the feeling of the early summer sun on his body.

He figured this place wouldn’t be too bad of a spot to stay for a while, assuming they didn’t plan any big commotions yet. The law was getting stricter about things like that and people like them, and frankly Arthur could have used a little peace and quiet for a while.

And there was that sweet girl he met in town— Mary Gillis. If nothing else, Arthur wouldn’t mind sticking around just to see her again. If he kept a low enough profile for a while, he might even have the chance to ask her out for a dinner, or something to that extent.

Caught in his own thoughts, Arthur stopped paying any attention to John, who was slowly taking care of his own clothes. Arthur only came back to reality when John announced, “Don’t look, okay?”

Arthur scoffed and rolled his eyes. “I don’t even wanna look at you dressed. I promise you, I ain’t lookin’ now.”

Keeping good to his word regardless, Arthur turned halfway to the side, putting his back fully to John. He kicked his boots off, then draped his pants over the rock with his shirt. Eager to get washed and return to camp, Arthur took off for the water.

It was warm at first against his feet as he waded in, though the farther in he went, the cold seemed to creep up his hairy thighs and straight through his bones. Instead of lingering on it, Arthur took a dive into the shallow water. He swam for a bit, letting the water rush over him and clear his senses; when he needed to breathe again, his toes found the soft, muddy bottom of the pond and he stood upright. Arthur burst to the surface, water cascading down his heavy-set body. He glanced around, wiping the water out of his eyes, and then fully turned to the shore.

“Hurry up and get in, Marston.” He called out.

John clutched the bucket to his chest unsurely. He still had his underwear on, but if he wanted to ride back to camp with a chapped ass, that was going to be his own issue. After a few long beats, John started wading out into the water.

He got to about his knees before stopping.

“It’s too cold,” he complained.

“S’ not so bad once you get in further. Also, shut up and throw me some soap.”

John rooted through the bucket with a grumble. He then tossed a bar to Arthur underhanded; Arthur lurched forward to catch it, but just barely.

“Christ!” Arthur scoffed. “What a shitty hand you’ve got.”

John frowned hard. His cheeks went red again as he dumped the bucket of its contents— another bar of soap and a wash brush— then filled it instead with water. He poured it over his head while Arthur started soaping himself up.

“Can’t throw, can barely shoot… It’s a wonder what Dutch sees in you at all.” Arthur called out. “Guess he likes projects.”

John’s cheeks flared hotter as annoyance built inside of him. Soaking wet, he threw the bucket aside and snatched up the soap instead.

“At least I’m not a butterball,” John snapped.

Arthur snorted a laugh. Quickly, he dunked his head underwater, then worked the soap into his hair.

“Butterball, huh? That’s a big word for you.”

“Would you just fuck off already?”

Arthur laughed again. It was so easy to get on John’s nerves, it almost made him understand all the grief Hosea and Dutch used to give him.

“I oughta wash your mouth out with soap. Save Grimshaw doin’ it herself.”

“I’d like to see you try, fatty.”

Arthur cocked his brow. For a long moment he stared at John, quietly sizing him up, before a smirk took his lips. John busied himself with scrubbing and soaping, so he didn’t notice Arthur approaching at first.

“I reckon you should come take a dip with me, Marston.”

John’s eyes widened with fear. He took half a step back, his hands going up.

“Don’t you dare. I can’t swim, you know that.”

“Oh, I’m well aware,” Arthur grinned. “Promise I won’t throw you out far… Just enough to let the eels get a bite in of your toes.”

“That ain’t funny.” John warned. He took another step back.

“Sure it is. At least to me.”

John stared at Arthur for half a moment, then turned and bolted for the shore.

Arthur gave immediate chase, laughing.

“Come on, not afraid of a little water, are ya?”

John was quick to scramble ashore, crying out, “Don’t you dare!” all the while. Arthur could have easily chased him the whole way, and maybe even caught the little bastard, but he started laughing too hard to make it far.

Arthur stopped a few feet from the shore, hands on his knees, while John scampered away to go hide behind an indifferent Boadicea. Arthur took a long moment to catch his breath, before he stood back up straight. He pushed his wet hair out of his face, then cleared his throat.

“Goddamn, you’re somethin’ else, boy.” Arthur laughed. He paused, smiling, before noting the weird expression on John’s face.

John’s head poked out barely over the top of Boadicea’s saddle. His brows were knitted tight together and his mouth was slightly open with disbelief.

Arthur’s smile slipped off. He glanced over his shoulder to make sure something wasn’t coming up behind him; sure enough, all he saw was an expanse of water and the swaying, shady trees around its edge. He looked back at John, lips pursed.

“What? You got a problem?”

“Where’s…” John started, his voice slow and confused. Maybe a little scared. “Where’s your dick at?”

Arthur glanced down, mostly confused himself. The water came up to the middle of his thighs, gently lapping at the back of his legs. He took half a second to process everything, before he realized. John was so fresh in the gang, he didn’t know a damn thing.

Immediately, Arthur knew the right thing to do. He should sit down, give John the whole spiel Hosea had given him years ago, about people and norms and bodies…

But he wasn’t going to do that. Instead, Arthur gasped in fake terror.

“Oh my god. It must’ve fallen off.”

John’s voice cracked as he exclaimed, “What?!”

“I can’t believe this,” Arthur continued, voice taut with faux panic. “I had it just a second ago— oh my god. One of the eels must’ve taken it.”

John’s face went white as a sheet. His body was stiff.

“All these years, I thought Hosea was pullin’ my leg when he said your dick would fall off if you played with it too much, but he was tellin’ me the truth this whole time!”

“You ain’t for real,” John managed, weakly. His own voice was high-strung with panic he tried to keep control of.

“Look, you can even see for yourself. It sure as shit ain’t there!”

That much was true. Arthur had a mat of hair that went down from his large chest to his stomach and between his legs, but there was nothing else to be seen. John desperately wanted to believe that this was a practical joke, but there was no conceivable way he could think of for Arthur to pull it off. Literally.

Except, after a few long, dramatic pauses, Arthur cracked. He barked a laugh, one which made John’s shoulders tighten and his cheeks flare cherry red. Before he could snap at Arthur, Arthur pushed all his hair back away from his face and waved his hand.

“Ah, I’m just messin’ with ya,” Arthur drawled. “That old thing fell off years ago.”

The annoyance at being laughed at evaded John’s face. In its wake, his eyes snapped open wide again as the colour flooded from his cheeks.

“Yessir, probably when I was about, oh… Twelve, thirteen.” Arthur turned around, trudging back to the water. “I shook it too many times whenever I went to take a piss and one day the damn thing just popped right off in my hand. But never mind that.”

Arthur splashed around, rinsing the soap out of his hair and off his body. Dropping the topic altogether, he said, “Best hurry up an’ finish washin’, Marston; supper won’t wait on our accounts.”

Uneasily, John trailed back to the water. He didn’t have an appetite for supper any more.

                                                     —30—

“If I may,” Dutch announced, as he stepped from the stairs to the open main-floor of the cottage. “I’d like to call a meeting for a moment.”

Hosea, Susan, Mac, and Davey sat around the big dining table in the center of the room, caught amid a poker game. Arthur was across the room, in the kitchen corner, digging through one of their boxes of liquor. Oil lamps burned on the walls, lighting the room in a flickering glow. Smoke hung heavy in the air.

Hosea was the first to look up first from his cards to Dutch. He waved him over.

“Only if you make it quick,” Hosea replied. His eyes returned to the table. “We were having an intellectual and in-depth conversation about politics before Arthur returned, so he didn’t feel left out for not understanding.”

A couple chuckles came from the table. They continued to play as Dutch came around and slid into what was presumably Arthur’s empty spot between Hosea and Davey.

“This involves you too, Arthur, so pay attention,” Dutch said.

“I can hear you just fine. Go ahead.” Arthur grumbled, as he pawed fruitlessly through a rattling box of empty bottles.

“Alright. Now I want adult, honest answers here,” Dutch began. He picked up Arthur’s cards, looked them over, then showed them to Hosea. “I just spent an hour painstakingly talking to the boy, John, about something he was told recently.”

Hosea scanned the cards quickly and nodded silently. Dutch turned them to Davey.

“Alright. What was it?” Hosea asked. He pushed a sizable number of coins into the pot in the center of the table.

Arthur, notably, was silent in the background.

Dutch placed Arthur’s cards back down. He kept his face stony as he could. “Someone, supposedly, convinced the boy that his pecker was going to fall off.”

Davey laughed first, loud and hard. Mac quickly followed with his own chortle. While they both got a kick out of the idea, Susan bit back a grin and Hosea smirked, nodding to his cards. Arthur, in the background, didn’t even try to can his snorting laughter.

Dutch fought hard to keep a stern expression. His lips twitched.

“This ain’t no laughing matter. That boy was scared shitless.”

Mac’s hand shot out to grab onto Hosea’s shoulder. He gripped it, while the rest of his body shook with laughter. Hosea laughed himself, though quieter and more contained.

“You boys are awful,” Susan chided with a smirk. She swatted Davey on the shoulder. “You should be ashamed of yourselves.”

Davey kept laughing. He had already been hitting the bottle since noon, so his laughter carried farther and longer than anyone else’s. “Don’t hit me! I didn’t do it. Wish I had, though.”

“Here, here.” Mac replied.

Dutch turned to his left. “Hosea?”

Hosea patted Mac’s hand, shaking his head. “I would’ve told you already if it were me.”

“And it wasn’t me,” Dutch said, “So it had to have been one of you unlawful bunch.”

Dutch’s eyes roamed across the table and then settled on Arthur in the corner. Innocently, he continued to root through the box with one hand, while he used the other to wipe his mouth.

Dutch narrowed his eyes a little.

“Was it you, Arthur?”

“Me? No, never.” But Arthur couldn’t keep his straight face this time. His cheeks split with a crooked smirk behind his hand.

Dutch scoffed.

“Your poker face is laughable, son. That’s why you’re losing so badly.”

“Actually, it’s ‘cause I’m playin’ with a room full of cheaters… But sure. We’ll go with that.”

Dutch waved his hand.

“Go up there and apologize to the boy, will you? Hell, apologize to me, too, because I spent an hour trying to convince him otherwise and speaking on behalf of topics I am not qualified for.”

“I’m sorry you had to be in the same room as him for that long.”

“Arthur!” Dutch snapped. “Get going! Be the bigger man.”

Arthur had a little, stupid smirk about him as he left the kitchen and crossed the room instead. He slapped Dutch’s shoulder as he walked by.

“You know, if Hosea had done this to me, you wouldn’t have said a word,” Arthur commented. “How come Marston gets all the special treatment?”

“If Hosea had done it, I wouldn’t have to handle it.”

That was all Dutch had to say on the matter, so the rest of the group quieted around the table. Arthur trudged up the stairs, feet pounding the whole way, and eventually they disappeared. Once he did, Dutch tossed Arthur’s cards aside.

“You’re handling the next crisis,” He said to Hosea.

“I figured about as much.”

Then, with a smile, Hosea laid down his winning hand and reaped his rewards from the middle of the table.

[harryisadogperson]

I like writing but have no outlet for it, so here you go.

          To say I hate doing cardio would be putting it very, very lightly. Call me high maintenance and/or a wimp, but I don’t like sweating. It’s why I’m vaguely grumpy any time the weather is above 75, convenient for someone born and raised in Florida, and one of the reasons why the idea of those bungalow beach getaways perplex me (you can have people bringing you frosty beverages and snacks at your wish and you’re going to go with a mosquito net and a fishing pole???). Anyway, as can be guessed, I avoid it like the plague. I had a good run in high school and college, hitting up the elliptical for half an hour a few times a week, but then the real world hit and it had about the same appeal as a root canal without medication.

          Make no mistake, though, I do- at least vaguely- like working out. I’ve been a lover of Cassie Ho’s Blogilates since college and have always liked the idea of my body being the machine, knowing I can do it anywhere at any time. And I have-- an ill fated night while studying abroad resulted in me waking up with my laptop up on a pilates video, recollection of having done so not included. Her videos have been an old friend, from my childhood bedroom to England to dorm room floors at NYU, always there when I needed to let off some steam. I’m not good at pilates whatsoever and Cassie would probably develop a very polite twitch watching me fumble along to her videos, but it makes me feel strong.

          It may be cliche but I, along with millions of others all over the world, aimed to get back into the swing of things in 2019. Cardio is important and even just a little bit added can be a help. I won’t call it a resolution, as that flashes “you will fail” in neon in my mind, but it has been something to add to my routine. That being said, I didn’t think I’d be too far out of shape. I hadn’t seen any significant weight gain, and figured my strength training would have to count for something.

          I was wrong. I am very out of shape. I currently would be the first gone if chased by zombies. I knew I couldn’t jump right back onto an elliptical, not because I didn’t think I could handle it, but because I knew I’d give up faster than Usain Bolt. If I was going to be serious about this, I needed to find something at least moderately tolerable. Of things I’ve tried in the past, cardio kickboxing ranked fairly high on my list of workouts I’ve hated the least, so I brought up a Youtube video and was ready to go. 30 minutes. Basic stuff. No problem. Except I made it 15 minutes before collapsing onto my couch, thankful I wasn’t in a class and only had my dog Rigby’s silent judgement to deal with.

          I was mad at myself. Always my own harshest critic, thoughts of giving up were already circling my brain sprinkled in with articles I’ve seen in passing of what we’re supposed to be capable of and look like. With cliche thoughts of “new year, new me”, I gave myself a pep talk. 15 minutes of cardio is 15 minutes more than I had been doing. It’s 15 minutes less than where I’ll likely be in a couple of weeks. I think most people, at least stubborn ones like me, are hardwired to give up on the first sign of what we see as failure. We’d rather sweep the attempt under the rug than learn and solider on. But what’s hard work is worth having, so I’ll keep on keeping on, whining the whole way. You don’t have to like working out. You may never find a routine you actually like, as much as peppy trainers would like us to think so. But you’ve got to do it. So whether you started out the year slam dunking your workout goals, or are like me and feel a bit more like Michael Scott on the Michael Scott’s Dunder Mifflin Scranton Meredith Palmer Pro-Am Fun Run Race For the Cure, your attempts are valid and you are killing the game. I’m proud of you. Let’s whine together.

[mldrgrl]

Heat

by: mldrgrl Rating: PG-13ish Summary: Set somewhere around the end of season 6.  They have to beat the heat somehow.

The air conditioner in Scully’s motel room rattles too loudly for her to sleep, but it’s too hot to turn it off.  The ancient, noisy box doesn’t provide much cold air, but it’s enough to beat back the humidity.  Restless, she gets out of bed and slips on a pair of sandals.  She distinctly remembered seeing a vending machine by the manager’s office, maybe she could get a cold water, or at the very least, a bucket of ice.  She doesn’t bother putting on another layer of clothes over her shorts and tank top.  It’s after midnight, there were only four cars in the parking lot at this motel and one of them was the rental she and Mulder picked up at the airport that morning.  Who would be out this late in the middle of nowhere?

Mulder.  Of course, Mulder is out this late in the middle of nowhere.  As soon as Scully steps outside, she sees him, sprawled in one of the tiny plastic chairs that dot the front of the rooms beneath the windows.  He’s got his running shorts on and he’s wiping his face with the front of his t-shirt.  When he sees her, he bends his wrist up and flutters his fingers once in a wave.

“Can’t sleep?” he asks as she shuffles by.

Scully raises the ice bucket in reply and wipes a sheen of sweat off her upper lip that’s already formed in the few moments she’s been outside.  He nods and she keeps shuffling towards the office.   The vending machine won’t accept her dollar.  Even though it’s lit, it doesn’t seem to be on.  She sighs and fills her bucket with little rectangular pellets of ice and shuffles back towards her room.

“I was thinking,” Mulder says, as she passes him, “what if the witnesses stories aren’t rehearsed, but it’s part of a post-hypnotic suggestion?”

She pauses and sighs.  “We can talk about it tomorrow,” she says.

“Technically, it is tomorrow.”

“Mr. Rappaport won’t be any less dead in the morning.”

Behind them, a bug zapper hanging next to management’s door sizzles and snaps about every ten seconds.  It suddenly occurs to her that the glowing blue light is irresistible to the bugs in the same way that lights in the sky are irresistible to Mulder.  Can’t stop, won’t stop, even if he - if they - get burned.  

“It must be at least a hundred degrees still,” Mulder complains, wiping his face again with his shirt.

Better than frostbite, she thinks, her mind wandering back to last summer.  Condensation drips from the ice bucket onto her toes and she startles just a little.  Mulder suddenly pushes himself out of the chair and stretches his arms over his head.

“I’m gonna check out that pool,” he says.  “Wanna come?”

“It’s so hot.”

“That’s kind of the point.”  Mulder smiles at her over his shoulder as he walks away from her.  She hesitates for a few moments and then follows, hugging the dripping ice bucket to her chest.

Typical Mulder, he ignores the Pool Closes at 10PM sign and pushes the gate open.  It rattles as the bottom scrapes the concrete.  Scully is the one that slowly pushes it shut, conscientious of the noise lest they wake their sleeping neighbors, or worse, management.  The pool looks surprisingly clean; no debris on the surface and the bottom is visible even in such poor lighting.  Mulder crouches down, dips a hand in the water, and then makes a noise of relief as he brings it, dripping wet, to the back of his neck.

“Let’s go in,” Mulder says.

“We can’t.”

“Why not?”

“It’s closed.”

Mulder shrugs and peels off his t-shirt.  She thinks he’s going to use his running shorts for swim trunks, but he shucks those too and she doesn’t even have time to look away without catching a glimpse of his bare backside.  She wonders where and how he managed to get tan lines with his back so bronze and his ass so white.  Her head is still turned as he slides almost silently into the water, maybe finally aware of the fact that getting caught would mean getting kicked out.

“Come in,” he says.

“I don’t have a suit.”

“Me neither.”

Scully takes a glance at the pool and Mulder grins before dunking his head and then coming up and spitting a mouthful of water in her direction.  She shuffles backwards, but he hits her legs anyway.  The water is cool and tempting.

“I’ll keep my eyes closed,” he says, squinting hard, but she can see him watching her anyway.

“Turn around.”

One eye opens, but his face stays scrunched.  “Don’t trust me?”

“Nope.”

Mulder grins and dunks down again.  When he comes back up, his back is to her and he shakes water from his hair.  The ice rattles in the bucket as she sets it on the ground.  It takes a few more moments of nervous hesitation before she pulls her tank top off.  She shivers, even though she’s not cold, and something tickles the back of her neck.  She slaps at it reflexively and though her hand comes away empty, she catches sight of a mosquito in the corner of her eye.  Malaria, her mind screams.  West Nile.  Yellow Fever.  Alien virus of unknown origin.

“You coming?” Mulder asks.

“Don’t turn around.”  She takes a deep breath and pushes her shorts off, letting them pool at her foot with her underwear.  This is crazy, she thinks.  You’re crazy for doing this.  You’re both crazy.

“I’ll give you until the count of three.”

“Mulder, no.”

“One.”

Scully takes hold of the guide pole and dips a shy toe into the water.  She turns and moves her foot down to the first step, up to her knee now.  Goose flesh blooms on her legs and arms from the drastic change from outside to inside temperatures.

“Two,” Mulder says.

“Stop.”  Another step and she’s down to the backs of her thighs.

“Two and a half.”

“I shot you once, I’ll do it again.”  The last step brings the water up to her waist, but she’s not ready to let go quite yet.

“Two and three quarters.”

Scully takes a deep breath and sinks down until her shoulders disappear and she’s treading water, the edge of the pool getting further away as her body is pushed backwards by her kicking legs.

“Three,” Mulder says, but he doesn’t turn.

“I’m here.”

Mulder swivels to face her and she sees his eyes drop to the surface of the pool and quickly back up to her face.  It’s too dark to really see anything and she supposes it probably shouldn’t matter anyway.  Once you’ve shared a decontamination shower with someone, there’s not much left to the imagination.  Still, she can’t help her own gaze from drifting down into the depths of the pool.  It’s how she notices he’s standing and not actually treading water, like herself, but he spreads his arms like he is.

“You want to hold on to me?” he asks.

“I’m fine,” she says, but surprises them both by drifting closer and reaching for his shoulders.  The tops of her feet brush his knees as she steadies herself.  When she relaxes her arms, she sinks down to her chin, but Mulder puts his arms under hers and brings her back up.

There’s a look of stunned fear in Mulder’s eyes and he keeps still, like she’s a small animal, like any sudden movements might chase her away.  She takes one hand from his shoulder, plugs her nose, closes her eyes, and plunges down into the water.  Her fingers tighten on Mulder’s shoulder as she springs back up to the surface and he grabs onto her arm as she pushes her wet hair back over her head.  Her body collides softly with his and he takes a step back and pushes her away.  She’s oddly disappointed by the space between them.

“Sorry,” he whispers.

“What makes you think post-hypnotic suggestion?” she asks.

“I thought you wanted to talk about it tomorrow.”

Scully stares at Mulder’s mouth, remembering how their lips almost touched last summer and the anticipation as his he moved in towards her.  She doesn’t remember much of what happened after that, but she does remember that moment and she wonders why it ended there.  Maybe the cool water emboldens her, maybe she’s tired, or maybe it’s just time for answers.  

“You can tell me if I’m going to have to wait another five years for you to try to kiss again me instead,” Scully says.

“Um…”  Mulder blinks, purses his lips, says nothing.

Scully slides her arms around Mulder’s neck and presses her chest to his.  He moves his arms out and stumbles backwards a little bit.

“Um…”  Mulder says again.

Scully uses her wet nose to caress the line of Mulder’s jaw.  She can still smell a hint of his aftershave, and chlorine, but mostly aftershave.  His hands find the back of her shoulders and he holds her lightly.

“All six of the witnesses used the word ‘vibrant’ when describing the way the lights lit up the sky,” he says, voice higher pitched than normal.  “And I...I...I’m not even sure Mr. Mitchum knows what the word vibrant means.  I think the...the memory of the event was implanted somehow and whatever killed Rappaport was actually nothing like how they describe.”

“Mulder,” she murmurs, lips grazing the back of his jaw, just beneath his ear.  “Mr. Rappaport died of accidental electrocution.”

“Electrocution, yes.  Accidental, no.”

“Aliens didn’t kill Mr. Rappaport.”

“It’s just that you never mentioned it, Scully - what happened in my hallway.  Not once.  I didn’t think...I just didn’t think you…”

“What are we doing in this pool, Mulder?”  Scully pulls her head back and stares Mulder in the eyes.  

“It’s hot out.  You...we just needed to cool off.”  He follows her gaze as she turns her head and looks at the ice bucket.

“That’s what the ice was for,” she says.

Their heads turn back towards each other at the same time, but Scully angles hers just so and presses her mouth to his.  Mulder’s arms move around her waist, squeezing her tight.  Despite the cool water, she’s warm all over again, heart racing.  She likes the little splish-splash sounds the water makes around them, masking their heavy breathing and the wet slide of their tongues against each other.

Mulder pulls back suddenly, breathing roughly.  “Don’t think you can kiss me and make me buy into your accidental electrocution theory,” he pants.  

“I wouldn’t dream of it,” she answers, a teeth-baring smile on her face.  “Same goes for you and your post-hypnotic suggestion theory.”

“Do you want to get out of the pool?”

“I think I’d like to stay a bit longer,” she says, pulling him back in for another kiss.

The End

[rosielovell-blog]

Tips for a Christmas holiday in Goa

As I washed the dark terracotta dirt from my feet in our cold London flat, hours after we all returned from our Christmas in Goa, I felt I wanted to keep the holiday alive and remember all the things that we learned whilst away. Travelling with children (ours are 2 and 6) is never easy. Lets face it, it’s mostly about you. They would be just as happy glued to Wild Krats for the whole of the school holidays, clamped to a large sofa in pyjamas being drip-fed Cadbury’s. So if you want your kids to come along for the ride, you’ve got to make it easy on them. Well, not so much easy as give them options so that they don’t consistently go mental and show you up in every longed for curry destination!

1. The first thing to get out of the way is that our children knew that this was a screen-free trip, a holiday about being together, getting bored, fighting, running around naked, watching birds and eating great food. We didn’t take ipads or computers. We did take our phones but they weren’t much use as we don’t have apps for the children on them and internet access was spluttery and often absent. Having removed this option all together there was no need to constantly negotiate with how much or how frequently they would be watching their drivel. Instead we went armed with paper, pens, dot-to-dot books, plane activities, a travel version of Guess Who, and a small trail of poundshop trinkets to keep their attention up. We definitely didn’t make it easy on ourselves but once we had put the initial work in (and put phones away ourselves) the delights of sand castles and crabs became more appealing than anything else. Soon our son had forgotten all about the TV. It sounds smug. But it did work. I took activities where ever we went and set them up at tables. It helped get through the pressure of eating in restaurants but without resorting to the obvious. Since we’ve been back he’s watched hundreds of hours of his favourite Netflix shows and is happily reunited. It is what it is.  

2. We found that food comes pretty slowing in Goan restaurants. As our children become inconsolable when hungry, Billy blotchy with tears and Penny dragon-like with rage, it became important to think ahead and order pre-supper pakoras on the daily. Combined with your first Long Island Ice Tea, it worked for everyone. I too get pretty ratty when hungry. My amuse-bouche-of-choice-with-sundowner was a daily plate of Gobi Manchurian. I would marry this plate of food if I could: sticky, deep fried, dunked in sauce, with a tender cauliflower centre, this is the best thing since KFC and accounts for my increased dress size. Then one more swim before supper on the beach. The cheque also took forever so make sure you order it with your pudding or last dishes. As the sun goes down and the mosquitos come out, sometimes you need to make a quick get-away. 

3. Both our children got savaged by mosquitos. It’s worst between 5 and 7pm so make sure you burn coils from 3pm (they cost pennies). If they get assaulted by these high-pitched bastards, use aloe vera and turmeric cream which you can get from the local doctors. Also another one called Kailas Jeevan worked well. 

4. I have a real problem: I find a place I want to go, often for breakfast, and fantasise about it’s perfection. I drag the whole family to the much elevated German Bakery or best-ever-chai-shop, like we are on a sacred pilgrimage. No time for showers, I’m hungry. Both children have a melt down en route and by the time we get there (it’s actually a 20 minute march, not a 7 minute amble) everyone wants to go home. So here it is: your children don’t care where they eat breakfast, lunch or dinner. It’s your interest. They just want food when they are hungry and only you want to Instagram the food anyway (Click on the link to see all of mine). The trick to making it work is to give them a quick breakfast before you leave. A couple of bananas. Or listen out for the 9am man on a bike, honking his horn. Chances are he has THE BEST banana buns you will ever taste. If the children their first breakfast early, they might manage the journey. You can eat your much imagined sacred brunch, they can eat or not eat depending and everyone will leave having got just about enough from the experience. No child ever thanked their parents for that great brunch experience. They just don’t care. 

5. Two out of three of our lodgings in South India were Airbnb houses.  For me, as a cook, and for a family of four, this worked fantastically. Whilst I don’t want to cook (and wash up) three meals a day, sometimes it’s about what is going to work, being a bit pragmatic, everyone getting a bit of what they fancy. Sitting in a restaurant for 3 meals a day can be very challenging for everyone. You end up policing your children’s manners endlessly (well, I do) and it can get to a point where no one actually wants to eat, they’ve got ants in their pants or are chasing manky cats around the joint. There is a sort of fatigue around the experience, the huge choice. So. I opted (in the absence of a child-free holiday) to cook 1 or 2 meals a day. At the beginning of the day we planned which meals these were and planned around them all the fun things we would do. Again, kids don’t really care if they are eating at the hipster spot on the beach or having red pasta in the kitchen. And the bonus to having a kitchen is that we could then put them to bed after they had eaten and have a rare moment alone, drink beer, chat, read, listen to music, cook and actually relax. If it means a bit of washing up, I’ll take that. 

6. Simple kid’s suppers which were easy to rustle up at home were: Heinz beans with paratha; instant noodles with green beans and cucumber on the side; red pasta; garlic calamari. Now back to the Heinz thing. There is no shame in a few comforts. Our kids were pretty good at trying new foods but almost everything really is spicy. Giving them something familiar every now and again was reassuring. And doesn’t everyone love beans?

When eating out, Dosa plain was popular and again the garlic and lemon seafoods like prawns and calamari. Spaghetti Vongole is also on a few menus and was delicious. Perhaps surprising but given Goa was a Portuguese colony it does make sense. 

7. Again, because of the Airbnb, I went to the local market. This was partly an excuse as it’s just about my favourite thing to do. To watch how people buy food, how they make exchanges, how they laugh, what they wear, what’s on offer (mountains of unrecognisable herbs), how they get it home. It’s also a brilliant way of making sure you are eating the right things. Chaudi market was pumping, bold and colourful, smelly, confused and inspiring. The ‘take-home’ here was that there was very little meat for sale. It was almost all clams and calamari and small tunas. The few meat stalls looked pretty rank and unpopular. This informed me that ordering meat from the restaurants was probably not worth it. And because the fish and fresh vegetables were so abundant that’s clearly the best stuff to buy and order. 

I would recommend Goa to any family. It’s not challenging. No one got sick. We just ate delicious food, went to chai shops and bought afternoon samosas. We took hair-raising rickshaw rides and dodged cows where ever we went. Do it. You wont regret it. Even the dogs are friendly.

[olena]

It’s unofficially summer! 

It’s sunny and warm, everything is green, and... the bugs have come out. Spider mites, mealy bugs, fungus gnats, aphids, and other unwelcome pests are making their way indoors, which means you’re probably searching for solutions and pulling your hair out over products and remedies that do nothing at all.

In a tiny apartment in the middle of the city, my SO and I live with 150+ plants, all indoors, with no outside to speak of, and (mostly) no unwanted critters. Tips like “put the plant outside and hose it down” or “just get this super cheap thing in bulk from the local mom n’ pop farm supply shop and take it home in your car” don’t work here. Also, approaches to garden maintenance are a little different when you have 1-10 plants vs. dozens!

Thus, in this post I’ll be focusing on plant pest control solutions for those of us with a lot of house plants, no yards, no cars, and no patience left for pests.

Note: links to products are included for convenience only; I have no partnerships with nor receive compensation from these sellers.

Note 2: all pest treatments take time (weeks) and multiple applications to work, often in combination with other methods.

PART 1: ANTI-PEST PRODUCTS THAT ACTUALLY WORK

Repti Bark (can also be found at most pet stores) Use for: gnats Use a 2cm+ layer as soil cover/mulch to retain moisture a little longer without attracting gnats. Pebbles work well for plants that like even damper soil, like ferns, but are they’re heavier and more expensive.

Yellow Sticky Traps Use for: gnats, flying pests In *combination with other gnat control products, these work wonders. (*Key word being combination -- if you see poor reviews on any given product, it’s probably because the person is only using that single thing and only hitting one life stage of the pest while others, like eggs or larvae, are left untreated.)

Pyrethrin Concentrate Use for: gnats, aphids, mealy bugs, mites This is a chemical naturally present in chrysanthemums and is relatively safe for indoor use. Read more about it here. For soil pests: mix recommended amount with water and spray directly on soil/mulch before watering, or just add some to your watering can. This will disperse it throughout the soil, targeting larvae. The plant will also take up some of these chemicals through the roots, potentially protecting it from leaf pests as well. For leaf pests: mix recommended amount and spray. As with fertilizers, LESS IS MORE! Don’t use too much; you’ll burn your plants.

AzaMax (Azadirachtin) Use for: spider mites, aphids, mealy bugs, gnats Azadirachtin is the main active ingredient in neem seeds and neem oil. It’s also safe for mammals and birds -- ok to use indoors even if you have pets or children. Read more: Wikipedia: Azadirachtin Wikipedia: Neem Oil NPIC: Neem Oil Fact Sheet GPN Article: Neem and Azadirachtin Why not just use neem oil? Well, I do (I like DynaGro’s neem oil) but I’ve found that extracted Azadirachtin works especially well for spider mites (when used as directed, in multiple applications over a couple of weeks). And maybe it’s a placebo effect, but, with all the various offerings of neem oil out there and little to no labeled info on constituents or active ingredient percentages, it gives me peace of mind to know I have the active, effective extract when using AzaMax. On the other hand, neem oil contains other active ingredients, some insecticidal, which may work synergistically and so may be more effective together than they are separately. Can be used with a spray bottle (one that won’t get clogged by oils, like these, or better yet, this pressure sprayer) or applied directly when watering, just like the pyrethrin above.

Dr. Bronner's Pure-Castile Liquid Soap - Baby Unscented Use for: any leaf pests like spider mites or aphids This is my favorite hand/body soap, but I’ve recently found it works wonders for plants as well! It’s now my first line of defense against mites and other leaf pests: just wash them off without burning the foliage. (I don’t recommend the following method for your vining Philodendrons and ivies with tons of leaves, unless you’ve got a lot of time and patience). To use: simply get your plant wet in the sink or shower, allowing the water alone to wash off some of the pests. Pour some soap in your hands and get to work lathering up each leaf: back, front, and down the petiole and stem if you can. Then rinse. Between washings, you can follow up with pyrethrin, neem, or AzaMax sprays.

PART 2: STILL TESTING / LESS EFFECTIVE BUT GOOD FOR COMBOS

SM-90 Mostly citrus oil. Smells good. Some people swear by this stuff, especially in combination with AzaMax. I have it and like to use it with AzaMax or Pyrethrin, although I’m not sure of its efficacy alone.

Rosemary Oil A friend introduced me to this for spider mite control. It does contain some insecticidal chemicals and seems to work well in diluted spray applications. Read more: Chemical composition: The main chemical components of rosemary oil are a-pinene, borneol, b-pinene, camphor, bornyl acetate, camphene, 1,8-cineole and limonene. Contains 10-20% camphor, which is sometimes used as an insect repellent. Study: Efficacy and Persistence of Rosemary Oil as an Acaricide Against Twospotted Spider Mite -- “Laboratory bioassay results indicated that pure rosemary oil and EcoTrol (a rosemary oil-based pesticide) caused complete mortality of spider mites at concentrations that are not phytotoxic to the host plant.”

PART 3: DON’T EVEN BOTHER

Various insecticidal soap sprays: (commonly found in garden centers at hardware stores) Garden Safe Insecticidal Soap Miracle-Gro Nature's Care 3-in-1 Insect, Disease and Mite Control Garden Safe 80422 Houseplant and Garden Insect Killer, 24-Ounce Spray Etc. The active ingredients are of questionable efficacy, or extremely low in concentration. I’ve tried these, but results weren’t astounding, and since the list of stuff above yields observable results, I don’t waste time with these.

Diatomaceous Earth It’s messy as hell and I’m not impressed with the (lack of) results. Fine powder that can be harmful if accidentally inhaled.

Mosquito Bits (and Dunks) Commonly recommended for gnats. Also messy; results aren’t obvious.

Hydrogen Peroxide Often recommended for fungus gnats and root rot. But unless you miraculously achieve the perfect dilution of this stuff with water (there’s much contention about proper amounts), it either does nothing at all at best or burns your plants at worst. I do like it for cleaning my humidifier, though!

Gnatrol The effects weren’t noticeable and I don’t use it anymore. Again, mostly because the list of stuff above is enough for my arsenal. Also, as you can see by this bottom list, I just don’t like powders and stuff that easily spills everywhere or is easily inhaled.

Potatoes, “letting the soil dry”, ladybugs, etc.: There are so many remedies out there, it’s a headache sifting through them. They can cost you a lot of money and plant lives before you figure out what works (I know from experience). Others may have found that some of these things work for them, and that’s fine, but they’re not on my list of favorites for lack of consistent, clear, and relatively quick results. Also, (and this goes beyond plants) don’t be fooled by the words “natural” and “chemical”. Not all natural ingredients are safe, and not all chemicals (synthetic or naturally derived) are bad. But don’t take random bloggers’ word for it (including me) -- do your research. Look for studies (Google Scholar is great for this) and reputable, primary sources. Check the chemical composition of oils and other mixtures and find out whether any of those constituents are A. insectidices and B. safe for other animals. Be smart and be safe.

Pictured: mealy bug through a magnifying loupe.

[moshfeghpilled]

February: The fall starts easy. I took baby aspirin, and a rusty spoon to my head, and smoked the stale weed my brother left in a broken vase before he left for college. Night comes fast, and tells the creation story. I ignore her this time. I don’t give a fuck about how I was made anymore tell me how I fall apart. March: Nobody can ever find the raw spot on their leg until they start itching. I remember 6th grade when the mosquito bit my calf. Larvae and laps on the soccer field in early spring. He is oozing into my shoes with the mud. April: My mother buried my rusty spoon, and took my brown hands. the clothesline was dripping carbonated orange soda sun, the wind was soft, the mice were sleeping warm beneath the floorboards; she spread my tarot on the floor with the forever broken and gnarled thumb she stuck in a blender when she was 5. That spring I walked home alone some nights, the heatwaves followed me like the labored breath of drunk men who don’t take no for an answer, I turned over The Devil and someone dropped a wine glass next door, she gasped, white eyes, the mice began to scrape and scream, the heatwave killed their children like it split my shoulders open and ate the youth inside. May: The month of falling out of trees, junior high was gonna shipwreck any day now. There is a fast food place where the milkshakes taste like cough syrup and the skater kids cheat death on 3 feet of concrete stairs. There is a crack in the sidewalk in front of it, and he kick flips on it to break the back of the mother who left him at 13, he breeds violence between his fraying vans and then something in his ankle snaps, my oxygen goes tar black. He bleeds, he. Makes this sound. Like a dog when you step on its foot. I want to hold him, put a butterfly on his cheek, give him a band aid, something, God, something. He looks like he’s in pain. I want to. I don’t know. Help. I walk away trembling and put my head between my knees behind a dumpster full of shitty milkshakes. June: The neighbors fuck like rabbits while I’m trying to cry to joy division. I pray for a lightning strike. This type of poetry is for pretty girls, anyway. July: my birthday flies into the glass of my bedroom window and breaks its neck. mom said the only things you can grow in summer that won’t die are grapefruit and hair, and I made a garden, I cut my chest open for Demeter each full moon. These locks were watered with gulf stream sea spray. I fed them bludgeoned daydreams. I threw my head against church doors trying to send Jesus some red flowers for his funeral, or maybe his birthday, doesn’t really matter, we celebrate both. August: I got kicked out of high school knocking myself out on my desk. People carved hearts into the enamel, I carved my heart out of my chest and turned it in for my midterm. I slam dunked my skull into the bleachers on game day, and when the bleachers fell, into my history textbook, and when the book was mushy with blood, into the track field. I’m grinning ugly, dancing to the 80’s synth in an empty gym after homecoming, with a nosebleed dripping love songs down my yellow teeth, like words on old gravestones: here lies a moontoothed lover who will never rest in peace, every night she claws her grave and hears the call of western waves. September: I’m high on concussion flavored car races in a stolen low rider, bluebirds fly in circles around my head after we crash, I wrote a song on a 5 dollar bill called blunt force trauma and it is about skater boys with broken noses, snarls of shaggy Jew fro his friends make fun of, and hands. that graze los angeles highways while he rides asphalt waves, slam his locker, and give the finger to the education system he keeps tripping over like untied shoelaces. he pricks those hands sewing together the lackluster parties private school kids throw. he puts his dewy rose bud lips to the jack daniels bottle, and kicks the drum kit over, gives it mouth to mouth, pump his fists into someone’s chest, gives it a pulse again. hands big enough to steal grapefruit with, the size of my swollen heart. I didn’t know it could get that big but he bumped into me, buzzing like a light saber, sky walking out of the grocery store with a grapefruit. with my heart. October: do you have a girl do you? have a lover? Jupiter is orbiting around whatever this emotion is called, the rollercoaster one. when you look at me. We spend Halloween turning into werewolves at the library, you were moshing in the kids section, bleaching your hair in punk rock, I was banging my bruised and knuckleheaded love poems into a paperback copy of Romeo and Juliet, brushing my hair with broken glass. That was the first day the blood on our hands was not our own, she shushed us and we laughed. High on Shakespeare and Jupiter gas, we dug our fangs into the dewy decimal system. You ask me my name, I tell you, you smile. We had matching bruises and I floated home. November: You make me. Feel. You make me feel like I can speak to snakes. You make me feel like my hips have a purpose besides balancing bins of laundry, and bowls of fruit. You make 17 stop feeling like a suicide note no one will read. you make me banshee scream and lick like fire against young pines, when you. dance. when you. kiss her, let her ride your double dutch hips, and your skateboard. She is a new coin, tangy on his numb tongue, and he tucks her in his pocket, his lucky penny. I’m the bubblegum he scrapes off his sneakers and throws into a storm drain. December: I still cower into my pillow and smile a crooked smile, and go red at the cheeks, you. You put the red in my cheeks. I’m here, I’m exploding, why can’t you see me? Just put the bottle down, take your hand from your eyes, I won’t ask you what happened to your face, or how you got that scar, I will just like you and like you. we can buy angels wings in Hollywood, make an apartment out of crumpled homework pages at the bottoms of our dirty backpacks, we can drop out of high school, I will like you and dissect your sadness like frogs in freshman biology I am used to the rotting smell in your ribcage, I reek of it too. I will like you. until I know how to love you. January: I switch schools, I cut my hair, bleach what little is left. It makes my mother unhappy, she thinks my spirit world is severing ties, she thinks my planets are discordant. I ask somebody back home about him, she says he dropped out and started working on cars. I come down. Softly. February (again, again, again): He was born to a rabbi and a beauty queen. I was born to a chemist, and a witch. Ammonia, bleach. Don’t mix them unless you want someone to die. Blood, adolescence, summer saltwater. Don’t mix them unless you want to make somebody wish they were dead.

2. a crush. and nothing more.

[kaileynel4-blog]

So many things to be thankful for!

I am now all settled in my new apartment in Cambodia. Got my photos hung up, tapestry on the wall(keeps falling) and the house plants have made their debut. The craziest thing about the place is the outdoor kitchen! I would have never guessed when i left America, that I would be in Siem Reap living in a tiny studio apartment where my kitchen sits over a lotus flower pond thing. The other bonus is that there are cows that roam around the streets. Just the other morning i stepped outside to bike to work and a cow was right infront of my door doing cow things. He didn’t move and of course made me go around him! Having wide open spaces is something that has become increasingly important to me or at least being able to have access to them. So Mom and Dad, I want to thank you. Thank you for moving out in the country and having us grow up playing in the woods, using our imaginations, showing us to appreciate nature and dealing with us complaining that we are too far from our friends who lived in the city (except for KC). I dont think i will live as far as we did but definitely will want to live in a place that has nature easily accessible. So thank you for that! The appeal of this tiny apartment was the simple fact of nature and also, when in my life would i be able to live above a lotus flower pond!!! I mean really? One thing that I have learned already is to challenge myself to get out of my comfort zone. I mean this whole trip was about that but even this apartment is part of that. Adapting to the weird things that come with living near a pond...just yesterday I had 7 frogs hopping around my place. One now is a proper resident of my bathroom. I was trying to put them outside but the doors arent properly sealed so the little buggers kept sneaking in. It was a battle that I lost and just hoped that I wouldn’t wake up with one on my face. I did look up if there are any deadly frogs in Cambodia and couldn’t find anything so at least i wont die from them. There are also spiders and other creatures that roam around the kitchen. The thing i have taken from my new crib is that when in a foreign country, try not to live like a foreigner, live like the locals. Take in the differences, learn about the culture and do as they do!

Here’s a couple photos of the place!

We all go through ups and downs in life. That’s just how it goes. We adapt, learn and grow from these experiences. So far, I am learning a lot! Soaking everything up like a sponge and learning from it. So far i have learned, people are crazy drivers and dont care if you are on a bicycle, dont drink the water but you can use it to wash your dishes, always learn hello and thank you when in a new country, passion fruit is the best fruit ever, sweat is a daily occurrence, dont touch Thai peoples heads, Cambodia has the most public holidays in the world, washing your hair is not that necessary, always bring a reusable straw, dont give money to the kids on the street, everyone talks about their horrible poop stories, air conditioning is precious as gold, cold showers are actually wonderful, locals wake up very early, Thais eat spicy and Cambodians do not, all dogs and cats here need to be spayed or neutered, time is not a concern, everyone is late and its okay, food does not come out in a timely manner, if your meal hasn’t come in 20 minutes most likely it was never made and they are doing it now, SE Asia does not know how to make a proper cookie or cake, when it rains ALL the bugs come out, i am allergic to red ant bites, never stay in a party hostel unless you are prepared for what is to come, seek out local culture, Oreo cookies are really good dunked in coconut milk, Asian elephants live a tough life and need more help than i thought, i am fully addicted to coffee, always check your bowls and cups for critters under them, bum guns are gods gift to this earth, the fruit is out of this world delicious, water is life, dont waste anything, there are good people everywhere, check your tennis shoes for frogs, I think I am ready to live out of a VW bus and lastly, mosquitos suck. Life is a crazy journey and I fully intend to continue to soak everything up like a sponge, challenge things and always be kind.

This is my first holiday season away from home. I am lucky enough to have a loving family that cherishes spending the holidays together. So the one thing that I am grateful this thanksgiving is my family. You are all amazing and I wouldn’t be where i am without you all. I spoke with my grandma before she went in for surgery and she said, “how are you talking to me when you are in Cambodia?” I love her so much and love that she doesn’t understand how technology works. So this holiday season i challenge you to be thankful for something everyday not just one day a year. There are people in our lives that impact it for a lifetime and derserve to be given thanks everyday, not just in November.

Cheers to meeting good people in life, being thankful for all that we have and simply being happy!

Love you all and wish you the happiest of holidays this year! :)

[cookingwithcraic]

People often ask me if I miss living in Canada. I’ve been living in Ireland now for almost five years. I have three great kids, a house we’re fixing up, a big garden (and more gardens planned), a small business and lots of friends and family milling around.

So yeah, it’s safe to say I’m usually too busy to be feeling homesick for Canada. That said, I recently got my kids their Canadian citizenship and, this year being Canada’s 150th birthday (if you’re First Nations, though, I should add that Canada is thousands of years older), I started feeling a bit nostalgic with all the celebrations and activities posted all over my social media streams.

Canada Day is July 1st, so it’s already happened. I didn’t do anything on the day to celebrate. Sometimes I host barbecues, bake a cake and have my friends over for Canada Day, but this year – having just had a baby – I wasn’t really feeling it. Too much, too soon.

But I can’t say Canada hasn’t been on my mind lately. So while I don’t miss living in Canada, there are a few things about Canada (or just Cape Breton, really) I miss in general:

Lobster season: May to July in Cape Breton. Lobsters everywhere you look. Lobster boil dinners at every small community hall. Lobsters being sold right from the boat. I love lobster, and I really miss eating it when it’s at its best. That also goes for mussels, scallops, haddock, salmon, chowder… and the list goes on. I know Ireland is surrounded by ocean, but there isn’t great seafood in landlocked Tipperary!

The beach: Cape Breton has so many gorgeous beaches. By July the water is warm enough to swim, the sand is golden and fine-textured and the beaches are relatively isolated. I love Irish beaches, but find the water is usually a bit too cold and most beaches a bit too crowded.

The restaurants: I love lobster and seafood. I love the places that prepare these foods as well. The Rusty Anchor in Pleasant Bay (where I once had some decadent lobster poutine with a cold beer; one of my most favourite meals), The Dancing Goat in Margaree, The Herring Choker in Nyanza, Charlene’s Bayside in Whycocomagh, The Bite House in Big Baddeck – all of these places make amazing Cape Breton food and deserve all of the accolades. I miss these places.

My friends and family: Obvs. I love and miss my *very large* extended family. Aunties, uncles, cousins, nieces, nephew, brothers – I miss them all.

The weather: in summer, it’s warm enough to swim in the river and in the ocean almost every day. On the East Coast, though, it’s not as hot as it would be elsewhere in Canada. We have the ocean to keep the temperature moderate (like, 35°C and under). A great deal warmer and sunnier than an Irish summer, but still comfortable (I don’t miss black flies and mosquitos, though).

Wild Blueberries and good Maple Syrup: I miss these things very much. The fruit in Ireland is lovely, but the blueberries here don’t compare to the blueberries in Cape Breton.

Canadian beer and wine: in Nova Scotia there is a wine appellation called Tidal Bay. It’s located close to where I went to university. The wine is gorgeous. Once, a sparkling wine called (Benjamin Bridge) Nova 7 beat out actual, expensive champagne at a tasting I attented in Toronto. It’s that good. The beer in Ireland is great, so I don’t miss Canadian beer that much; just certain kinds.

Homestyle baking: I know I do a lot of Cape Breton-style baking here in Ireland, but I miss other people’s baking. Namely from the cafes I mentioned previously, my aunties and older people from around my community.

Speaking of homestyle baking, I especially love East Coast scones. Large, triangular, sweet with a crunchy sugar or glazed topping, scones in Cape Breton are indulgent – often made for sharing – and perfect with a cup of strong tea.

I whipped up these maple walnut scones with another nostalgic food in mind – ice cream! I love the ice cream at home. It’s not soft serve like a 99 here in Ireland, it’s hard and comes in a million and a half flavours; one of my favourites being maple walnut.

No need for butter and jam on these scones. The glaze is thick enough to ensure the right amount of sweetness in each bite, and the walnuts are toasted in the oven and then soaked in maple syrup. Perhaps most importantly, the flavour is nostalgic enough to get me through to my next visit home.

Maple Walnut Scones

Ingredients:

2 1/2 cups/375g Plain Flour

1 Tbsp baking powder

1 tsp sea salt

1/4 cup/60g light brown sugar

1/2 cup/125g cold butter, cubed

1 large egg

2 tsp vanilla extract

1 cup/250ml cold buttermilk

For the glaze:

2 cups/500g Icing Sugar

1 tsp vanilla or maple extract

3 Tbsp good quality maple syrup

Splash of heavy cream

Toasted walnuts, soaked in maple syrup

Directions:

Preheat your oven to 200°C (400°F). Line one or two baking sheets with parchment and set aside.

In a large bowl, combine the flour, baking powder, salt, brown sugar and cold, cubed butter.

Using a pastry cutter or your fingers, cut/rub the butter into the dry ingredients until the mixture resembles coarse crumbs. Make a well in the centre of the butter/dry ingredient mixture.

In a large measuring cup, measure out the buttermilk, then add the egg and vanilla. Mix to combine.

Add the wet ingredients to the well in the middle of the dry ingredients. Using a wooden spoon or just using your hands (your best pastry tool!) mix the wet into the dry until just combined (mixture should be on the wet side – if it’s dry and crumbly add more buttermilk!).

On a lightly floured surface, turn the dough out and knead lightly for one minute. Form into a ball and allow to rest for 10 minutes.

Using more flour for dusting and a rolling pin, roll the dough out into a thick rectangle (you want to get 8-10 scones out of this dough at most). At least 1.5 inches thick.

Cut the rectangle into 8-10 smaller rectangles or triangles. Transfer to the prepared baking sheets. Using a pastry brush, lightly brush the tops with milk and sprinkle a bit of sugar over each scone.

Bake the scones for 20-ish minutes. Let cool slightly on a rack.

Make the glaze: in a mixing bowl, combine the icing sugar, maple syrup, maple extract (or vanilla) and about a tablespoon of heavy cream. You want the glaze to be thick, but still be able to drizzle it over the scones. If the glaze is too thick for your liking, loosen it up with a bit more cream.

Dunk the tops of each scone in the glaze, or spoon the glaze over each scone allowing the excess to drip down the sides. Top with toasted maple walnuts. Allow glaze to set slightly before eating (if you can wait that long).

The scones will keep no longer than two days, so make sure you eat them right away!

  Maple Walnut Scones People often ask me if I miss living in Canada. I've been living in Ireland now for almost five years.