#gift for tree surgeon

[frankiecatphotography]

Tree Surgeon Apron - on Sale!

#frankie cat photography #frankie cat #on sale #christmas #great gift #gift ideas #redbubble #find your thing #tree surgeon #apron #tree cutter #lumberjack #gift for tree surgeon #gifts

[allthecanadianpolitics]

A pristine parcel of forested land in central Alberta will be protected from development after it was donated to a nature conservancy by the son of its original owners.

The Dr. Thomas S. and Mary Wilson Nature Preserve, located about 60 kilometres southwest of Edmonton, was created by the Nature Conservancy of Canada (NCC). 

The gift of land fulfilled a promise made to his father, said his son Thomas W. Wilson, who lives in Saskatoon.

"I had told my dad that I would never sell this land and that we would keep it in pristine condition," Wilson told CBC's Edmonton AM.

"He loved that place, as did my mom, and they wandered around and looked at the birds and trees and that sort of thing." [...]

Continue Reading.

Tagging: @newsfromstolenland, @abpoli

#cdnpoli #Alberta #conservation #environment #flora & fauna

[shady-lemur]

Abby spolis reader for their birthday

i love this sm. it would physically hurt her to not kiss the ground you walked on on your birthday.

you wake up to abby singing happy birthday in her pajamas with a tray of food in her hands and your cat trailing happily behind her. she always comes through with the breakfast in bed omfg… blueberry pancakes, bacon, lots of fruits, some yogurt, chopped potatoes, orange juice, and coffee. you smile at her and sit up so she can set the tray up on your shared bed. “happy birthday angel. do you feel old now?” she teases and you shoot her a warning glance. “shut up. i’m not that old..”

abby laughs and gives you a kiss on the cheek before getting under the covers to sit next to you. she knows you’d be mad if she just made you food and sat there and watched you eat so of course she brought her own utensils and put extra food on the plate so you can enjoy it together. before you can start to eat she puts a candle in your pancakes. “you gotta blow your candle out first!!”

you shake your head at her and smile, “are you gonna make me do this every meal?” abby shrugs playfully and gets her phone out to film you making your first birthday wish. after you blow out your candle and notice her sneaking a few pictures of you now and then you whine. “absss! i look crazy in those. i’m not ready.”

she frowns and shakes your head, planting kisses all over your face. “you are so beautiful angel.”

you laugh at her ticklish kisses and move to have your lips meet hers. “thank you abby. this smells so fucking good.”

you eat breakfast while laughing with each other and listening to the playlist you made for her one year for your anniversary.

————————————————————————

after breakfast is when the birthday surprises REALLLY start. after you get ready for the day and put on the “birthday girl” sash that abby got for you you walk out of your bedroom to a decorated living space. banners hung on the walls. balloons on the floor, party hats, and a dining room table full of gifts. a massive bouquet, a few designer brand bags, jewelry boxes, your favorite snacks, and a few gift bags and boxes. not to mention the huge new cat tree in your living room because when it’s your birthday it’s basically also his.

“oh my god abby. i thought you said you weren’t gonna do anything crazy. this is so much.” you cover your face and groan (half playfully) when she wraps her arms around you and hugs you from behind, pressing gentle kisses behind your ear. “hmm? giving my angel some presents on her birthday is not crazy.”

you turn to face her and give her a “really?” look. she smiles at you and gives you a peck on the lips.

“i’m serious! all i did for your birthday was get you a few books and a watch.” you whine. abby shakes her head and furrows her eyebrows.

“noo. you made me an incredible homemade pasta, got me those very thoughtful gifts, made me a beautiful cake, and gave me the best present of all before bed.” she gives you a wink and you sigh, how does she still make you so hot in the face after 6 years together..?

“are you gonna open your gifts? we’ve got a busy day planned!!”

you look at her and smile, eventually giving in to her excitement to show you what she got you. her gifts definitely were not under 10k… the surgeon salary 😍😍😍

————————————————————————

of course, after opening your gifts she takes you to the mall for a shopping spree. using your birthday as an excuse for you to finally except her offers of paying.

“abby i can’t. you already spent all that money one me.” she looks at you, genuinely confused, because she doesn’t understand how you don’t understand that this is very much a win-win for you. you get a bunch of cool stuff, she gets to get you a bunch of cool stuff!! you put the purse back on the shelf but she slips in back in the basket while walking behind you like a baby duck.

“what about that dress angel? that style is perfect for you.” you look at her and smile before getting a dress to try on. it’s easier to give in than fight it.

after she pays at that store (chanel. you couldn’t even watch while she paid because it physically hurt) she smiles at you and gives you another kiss. “where do you wanna do next baby?”

so you led her to victoria secret, mostly as a reward for her because she won’t stop buying you shit!!!! her face definitely goes beat red at some of the things you point to or hold up to show her. “abs! wouldn’t that look so cute on me? i could wear it around the house, in the morning i-“

before you can finish she already had the right size in the bag. you giggle and continue to lead her through the store, basically just seeing how much you can tease her. “oh my god, abby!! can we get those, we could match!” in the bag.

“those look like they’d be so comfortable.” in the bag.

“oh my god i love that color!” in the bag.

*staring at something* in the bag.

and you don’t get to leave until at least another 8k was spent. jesus christ this woman.

————————————————————————

and of course you go to the fanciest restaurant abby could find. she takes you home after you shop so you can change into one of your new dresses and she puts on one of her favorite dresses too (sorry i know y’all wanted me to say a suit….. i’m just too obsessed with fem abby :(!!).

she feeds your cat and gives him a couple treats for being so good while you’ve been gone and then escorts you to her car before she goes feral because of how amazing you look!!

“you look so good baby. i can’t believe you’re my girl.” she reaches over the console (?? is that what it’s called…?) to give you a kiss, forcing herself to pull away before she gets too handsy.

you smile at her and move a hair out of her face. “abs. you’re so perfect. thank you so much for all of this.”

abby grins and looks at you like a fucking puppy. she puts her hand on your thigh and finally gets on the road!! she takes you to a very high end restaurant (ofc..) and has the staff give you a menu that has no prices… jesus christ. abby orders some wine and laughs as you try to pronounce the names of the fancy foods.

she tells everyone around that it’s your birthday just because she’s so excited to get to spoil you!! at the end of dinner they bring out a small cake with chocolate covered fruits around it. the cake has your name on it and abby makes sure to get pictures of your joyous face when it first comes out.

———————————————-—————————

you’re so tired by the time you get home. immediately stripping out of your dress and heels when the front door closes and making your way up to your shared bathroom to wash your face and brush your teeth. abby trails behind you happily. neither of you forget to pet the cat of course!!

after you finish in the bathroom you plop yourself on to the bed. you laugh when abby plops down next to you, causing the whole bed to shake. “thank you soo much for today abby. i couldn’t have had a better birthday.” you wrapped your arms around her sweetly and she copies your movements, resting her head against your shoulder. “this is no one near what i owe you for being you.”

you snort and look down at her. she starts to laugh too, “what are you laughing about? i’m serious!!”

“you’re so cheesy ab!! oh my god!”

you end the night with some cuddles and you’re favorite movie.

#tlou part 2 #abby anderson #abby tlou #tlou2 #abby anderson smut #tlou fic #abby x fem!reader #abby x reader

[the-dendrophile-bookdragon]

Magic of Christmas

Pairing: Modern!Aemond Targaryen x fem!reader

Warning: angst, mention of bullying, mention of injury and blood, mention of hospitals, fluff

Summary: After years of hating Christmas and all it stood, Aemond finally feels the magic of Christmas.

A/N: This can be read as a stand-alone or as part of My series Remedy.

Likes, Reblogs and comments are appreciated. Happy reading!

Christmas has always been your favourite time of the year. You never grew out of your child-like wonder for the holiday. It meant seeing your family all together in one place. Sharing and making new memories. Not even after you married the Grinch himself, Aemond, did you lose it.

Aemond was different. He hated the holidays. For him, it was always family drama. Every year his hopes were crushed to be noticed or to receive love from Viserys. All his father’s attention was on his half-sister and her sons. His cousins, he loathed with every fibre of his being.

He had to endure Aegon’s idiotic behaviour all year, but it turned into bullying when they were involved. They always wore these malicious grins when they knew he was at his breaking point. Once he acted on his anger, it cost him his eyesight as Lucerys, as weak as he may have looked at the time, punched him in the eye as they wrestled outside in the snowy yard. He could clearly remember the red-soaked snow beneath him. The agonizing scream of his mother.

He liked this Christmas. He was far away from home. His mom, sister, and baby Daeron were at his side, as he opened his presents in peaceful silence. No one would instantly destroy them or hog them until they drove home again. He liked the quiet of the hospital at Christmas. Maybe that is why he became a surgeon nearly twenty years later.

But his world was turned upside down when he met you. Your first Christmas together you pouted at him as he told you he had taken over a shift for a colleague. He reasoned that his colleague had two little children at home. You nodded grudgingly. His mother had gotten used to him working, but not you. After your second year being exclusive, you finally gave up and accepted it. Even going out of your way and bringing him a small gift and home-cooked food to the hospital.

But now, two years married with a little one, he slowly understood his mother’s words. “You will see, darling. As soon as you have kids on your own, the magic will take over.” And indeed it did. He began to understand why you loved Christmas so much. He could feel it deep in his heart. The love and fuzzy feeling. The warmth surrounded him. He slightly regretted being a Grinch for the duration of his relationship with you.

Every light and every ornament sparkled like a brilliant crystal. But nothing looked more beautiful than his wife and three-month-old daughter staring at the Christmas tree with wide sparkling eyes. He surprised everyone, even himself when he sent a text message to the family group chat asking for a united Christmas dinner. Alicent had facetimed him. Tears streaming down her face as she thanked him. She had tried for years, ever since he went to med school, to celebrate Christmas just with him and his siblings. She would have gone anywhere so he wouldn’t see his father or his half-sister and her family.

So here they stood, Alicent, Heleana, Daeron, even Aegon, who was surprisingly sober for once, and his wife holding their daughter as they stared at the ornamented tree. A mountain of presents is placed under it. Most of them are from Alicent for her only granddaughter. Aemond had complained she was spoiling his daughter. Alicent just pets his cheek softly. She grinned at him and simply spoke, “No.”

Mealenys stared with wide sparkling blue eyes at the many lights on the tree. His wife leaned against his chest as she whispered to their daughter about all the new gifts she would get. His mother took no doubt, thousands of photos of everyone.

He felt like a little kid for the first time in years. He could feel his younger self was healing. Maybe, the magic of Christmas existed after all. He slowly began to believe as he held his small family in his arms.

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#aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen #aemond x reader #aemond one eye #aemond fanfiction #aemond the kinslayer #aemond targaryen x you #aemond targaryen imagine #aemond targaryen fanfic #modern aemond #modern aemond angst #aemond fanfic #modern aemond smut #modern aemond x reader #modern aemond targaryen #modern aemond x you #31 days of december

[thedepthsoffandomminds]

The guest PT 9

Masterlist

Jack Dawkins x fem reader

"I'm afraid I, too, have an uncomfortable revelation. About the stolen pay. Now seems an appropriate time to deliver it. My suspicions were first aroused when told there'd been an outbreak of typhoid and I can now confirm..." Gaines is interrupted by a redcoat dragging Fagin into the room.

"Get your hands off me!" The older man squirmed.

"Captain Gaines. Found this vagrant screamin' he's got urgent news. Flog him now or flog him in jail?" The soldier asked.

"Is no one interested in this urgent news?" Lady Jane mused.

"This man is my servant. And as such, I take full responsibility for him and whatever it is he's been up to." Jack says standing up from the table.

" Yes, well, I have vital information about the soldiers' pay. Please. Your Majesties, allow me to unfold a sordid tale of unmatched woe." Fagin began. You sat and listened to his story as a carriage pulled up at the front door. Gaines marched himself out there, finding his wife Peggy and Darius sitting together. The Soldiers pay in a leather bag at their feet.

The members of the party dispersed into separate rooms, you being left in the dining room alongside Sneed.

"Was that true? You helped him make a fool ofme? I knew you did not want to marry me but to go as far as to defame me, to scupper my chances of head surgeon..."

"No Rainsford I didn't mean...I was just-" your cut off by the pain in your chest. It takes over your whole body, making you drop against him, limp and dizzy. You gasp for breath.

"What is it?" He asks you but his words are lost in the fog of your mind.

"I can't...I... Rainsford." Your whole weight drops and you hardly feel as he lifts you into his arms. The rush of the family as they watch him carry you up to your room and lay you on the bed. You don't see the concerned glances between Fanny and Belle as he listens to your chest and checks your pulse. You know nothing until you awake hours later in a darkened room with only a single candle burning on the table, Belle sat close by.

*_*_*_*

"well if you insist on her living in town, I am going to live with her. It is completely uncivilised to expect an unwed young woman to live entirely alone." Belle was arguing with her mother.

"Absolutely not." Lady Jane slammed her hand on the table.

"then y/n should just stay here." Fanny argued.

"of course she is stating here, clearly the girl is unwell and I will not put her out in such a condition." Edmund finalised the conversation.

"I shall work on marrying her off then, I'm sure someone will take her " lady Jane scoffs and turns away. Fanny looks to her sister,

"You've been moping ever since Dr. Dawkins ruined our dinner. Come on. Up!" She demanded. Belle groaned at her and threw her legs off the side of the couch allowing Fanny to sit beside her, "Are you feeling any better?"

"Yes, I'm completely cured of my despair. I have a gift to lift your spirits. A guillotine? Better."

I have a gift for you. A painting made with these very hands. It's the story of us. Our journey here, a house, a kangaroo." Fanny pointed to each thing on the paper.

"What are these?" Belle asked pointing.

"Tree trunks. I keep seeing these in my dreams" fanny said absently.

"Doctor Sneed is here for you." Lady Jane announced through the door. Fanny perked up, "No, not for you for Belle, he wishes to take you shooting." Belle rolled her eyes and left the parlour.

With encouragement from Fanny you leave the comfort of your bed and sit in the parlour. Though she has to leave you some time later you are content for a moment until lady Jane enters.

"I'm sorry, Lady Jane. I can go elsewhere if you need the room." You say.

"No, no. It appears I have been out voted and you are to stay here with us." She grumbled.

"Oh, well, I will endeavour to no longer be a bad influence on your daughters." You said as respectably as you could.

"Yes, good." The older woman turned and left once more, followed only moments later by Belle as she flung herself onto the couch.

"He asked me to marry him." She huffed. You knew it was coming and you'd turned him down, so why did it annoy you?

"You could do worse?" You laugh falsely, knowing well enough Belle would never agree to marry Sneed. Her eyes looked at you, studied your features.

"No, but I could do so much better. Have you ever married?" Her question was breathy, like it had taken much courage to ask it. You shake your head, absentmindedly.

"No, no one ever stood up to the fictional characters that I feel for." You laugh.

"What are you doing?" She asked.

"Oh just some light reading." You closing the medical book. Belle thinks for a moment.

"Jack is a fine man." She states.

"Yes he is," you agree. His face instantly popping into your mind's eye. The way he had smiled at you, still fresh in your thoughts

"You say that I should consider him, but what if I want to consider someone else?" Her eyes flick between your eyes and your hands.

"No, you should set yourself on Jack, he compliments you and you him." You say.

"but the way he acted at the dinner..."

"Belle, you were awful to him. You invited him here for your own adjenda and then humiliated him." You chastise her.

"No, I...well I..." Belle sighs, resting her head on her fists. "he was rude to me."

"because you hurt him." You explain. "But don't worry, he'll come round." You assure her. Belle looks to you, a strange feeling bubbling in her stomach that she hadn't felt before.

*_*_*_*

Jack stood at the preparation table when Sneed came marching in.

"I demand to know why you were seeing my patient. I had already made it abundantly clear his condition is inoperable." He scowled.

" He wanted a second opinion." Jack replied almost uncaring .

"From you? Please." Sneed jeered. Jack put down the apparatus he had in his hands, "Wouldn't you want a second opinion if some spoilt, pompous, upper-class prat with only basic medical knowledge told you your career was over?"

"Never cross me again on matters medical, Dawkins. I don't know how things were done on your side of the city, but that's not how we do things here. You will not operate on that man. Nor will you have anything to do with the ladies of Government house." Sneed hissed,

"Ah you true intentions scream out. She'll never be yours." Jack knows he doesn't need to say a name for Sneed to understand.

"And if I find that foul stench has anything to do with you or your illiterate friends, I will see you are all soundly punished."

"That's so strange because, you see, we all thought that that smell was coming from you."

Jack could not concentrate after that, his mind caught back on you, when an idea pops into his mind.

*_*_*_*

"Hello." Jack said as he barrelled through Belle's balcony window.

"Have you completely lost all sense?" She scowled at him.

"Quite possibly."

" If you have come to apologise for your behaviour from now weeks ago, then you must do it formally and at a proper time. I will consider whether or not to accept it. Please go." Belle says arrogantly.

"I'm not here for you." He said walking to the bedroom door and slipping down the corridor, Belle marched behind him.

"Come to steal from my home have you?" She jeered. Jack stopped with his hand on a doorknob.

"on contrary." He pushed open the door entering your room. You sit on the bed. "Do you know about Strabismus surgery?" He asks you.

"What does a criminal need to know about that?" Belle scoffs.

"Do you?" He ignores her, keeping his eyes on you.

"It's the realignment of the eye." You say.

"See? I knew you'd know." He smiled at you

"Would you happen to have some medical textbook that might..." you say to Belle.

" Yes. This way." The two do you follow Belle downstairs, as Jack leans back on the desk you sit down in the desk chair. Belle climbed up to look through the shelves.

"Are you...how are you?" Jack asks you.

"I'm fine Jack." You reply to him, trying to keep your tone flat.

"It was first performed in the 1830s by John Homer Dix. The surgeon needs only three instruments, a fine hook to elevate the conjunctiva, a bent probe to isolate the tendon, and scissors for opening up the conjunctiva."Belle read allowed from an old book as she climbed down.

"Pictures. I need pictures." Jack says standing to his full height.

" Yes. Here." Belle holds the book towards him.

"It is so dangerous." You say from your seat.

" Yeah, but you love that, don't you?" He grins back at you.

"Can you do it?" Belle asked.

" Yes. Maybe." He scanned the pictures.

The three of you start walking back toward the stairs.

"It's important for both of us that we clear the air about what transpired." Belle addressed Jack, "I admit that I said things in that moment that I now regret. And I'm equally sure that you said things that now, in the cold light of day, you wish were-" you feel Jack slip away from your side.

"What are you two doing? Y/n are you feeling any better?" Fanny asked walking up to you both.

"I'm well, Fanny. Thank you." You say quietly.

"You've had eight turns in the last few weeks. I've been keeping count." She said, eyes full of concern.

"All's well, sister. Go on, back to bed." Belle said. You shoot your eyes back to Jack before pulling Belle upstairs with you to dress.

"What is that smell?" Belle asks as you walk into the hospital.

"Fagin." Jack answered with a grin.

"It smells like ambergris." She scoffed.

" Like what?" You couldn't help your giggle at his words.

"Will you wait?" Belle grabbed his arm, " Are you going to apologise to me or not?"

"No. What for?" Jack asked.

" For the way you spoke to me."

"Hang on, Belle we spoke about this." You say.

"No, y/n it's fine. I was hurt. And I'm sorry if I spoke to you abruptly. But I don't know how to talk to women. I've never really had to." Jack admits.

" I am similarly rarely interested in anything a man has to say. And I forgive you." Belle nods her head.

" Good. Don't invite me to any more stupid dinner parties. Your lot will never accept me." Jack implores her.

" Why would you want them to accept you? You have no idea how boring we all are." She grins.

"Not all of you." Jack muses, his eyes momentarily flicking to you.

As Jack is preparing the equipment and Belle is helping the navigator on to the operating table he turns to you.

"So, you know what happens here, right?" You nod to him, "So...can I do it?"

"Jack, you are the most skilled surgeon in the world. You can do anything." You say.

Jack dropped his eyes to the table, a thousand thoughts running through his mind.

"Are you still-" he swallows, "still set on my being with Belle and not you?" He asks.

"Jack, I know.it doesn't make sense to you but that's how it's supposed to happen." You stick to your guns.

"But isn't it all different already? I don't feel for her what you say I should. I feel them for you. Surely just being here has already changed it. What if you're meant to change it?" Jack had moved around the table coming closer to you.

"We're ready in here." Belle interrupted.

"y/n?" Jack raised his eyebrows to you.

"Go, I'll be there in a moment."

@fandomfan-102 @deanstolemydragon @mydeputyghostwagon

#jack dawkins x y/n #jack dawkins x reader

[dalishious]

Magical & Non-Magical Healing in Thedas

Magical Healing

Most healing magic falls under the School of Creation, which is about manipulating natural forces of life. It is a school rarely studied by mages, as it requires more finesse than any other school.

While any mage can study the school of creation and learn to heal, it is Spirit Healers who have the strongest healing magic. Spirit Healers can call in spirits to rapidly heal someone’s body, be it from physical damage or through disease. It requires a special gift of working with spirits in this way, which is rare among mages.

Finally, blood magic is also capable of healing. Solas says, “I once saw a blood mage healer who would shed her own blood to close a patient's wounds,” in defence of blood magic. But the details of this form of healing is unknown.

The extent of what healing magic is capable of varies by the skill of the mage practitioner. In the Tevinter Nights story Three Trees to Midnight, Myrion says that while he only knows a little bit of healing magic and can just close Strife’s wounds, his friend Jasecca was a Spirit Healer who “once reattached a man’s hand after it had been chopped off.”

It’s possible that the average mage in Tevinter is taught at least a little bit of healing magic, as in Tevinter Nights’s The Streets of Minrathous, Neve Gallus is also able to use her magic to slow the flow of blood out her wound, despite claiming to not be a proper healer. This is just like Myrion’s limited abilities.

There are also objects imbued with magical properties capable of healing people. For example, in Herold Had the Plan from Tevinter Nights, Bharv’s amulet completely heals the scratches on his hand without so much as a scar, closes up the wound on his stomach, and even keeps him from dying over a fatal blow.

While magical healing is very useful, because of Chantry-propaganda against magic, there are some in Thedas who would rather suffer than accept magical healing. For example, when the Inquisitor arrives at The Crossroads in the Hinterlands, a soldier tells Mother Giselle not to let any mage touch him when she offers to fetch a healer. But this is not the universal opinion. In Kirkwall, the people of Lowtown and Darktown were willing to shelter and protect Anders as thanks for his healing them.

Non-Magical Healing

There are books found in game that have anatomical diagrams, meaning there is some form of studying the body:

The most extensive evidence of what non-magical healing is like is from the Surgeon character found in Skyhold. The surgeon knows how to set broken bones, and also mentions doing amputations as a last resort. When asked how non-magical healing works, she replies, “good health isn't magic. It's diet, exercise and a balance of the humors.” She has many comments about bloodletting in particular:

“Hmm, somewhat off-colour today, Inquisitor? An excess of bile, perhaps. Might I bleed you?”

“Try not to touch the leeches. They are quite delicate.”

“Come for a bloodletting?”

Humorism was the real life historic belief that the body was made of four fluids: blood, black bile, yellow bile, and phlegm. Disease was believed to be caused by an imbalance of the humors, and so treatment was to “balance” the humors, often by bleeding the patient. This goes against the basics of germ theory also evidently believed in Thedas, so perhaps this surgeon is in fact out of date?

A note found in The Fallow Mire says, “The Gardners are too sick to save, everyone says. Grandfather and my brothers barricaded them in their own house so they wouldn't make anyone else sick.” This would suggest that the average person knows the basics of germ theory, at least to a degree that they know how diseases spread and how to prevent them through quarantine.

If you take Dorian to the Fallow Mire, he will comment, “At least in the city, you can find a decent healer. Out here you have, what? Roots and berries?” So, healers are not always available. In lieu of practicing healers, common folk turn to those who know about herbalism.

[RELATED POST: Canonical Herbalism in Thedas]

Additionally, there are a variety of folk remedies found across Thedas. For example, to cure a cold: “Bring a cup of whiskey to nearly a boil in a kettle, until its vapors permeate your surroundings. Add the juice of half a lemon and two peeled and crushed cloves of raw garlic. Consume before the whiskey cools.”

-----

SOURCES:

Dragon Age: The World of Thedas vol. 2

Tevinter Nights: Three Trees to Midnight

Tevinter Nights: The Streets of Minrathous

Tevinter Nights: Herold Had the Plan

Codex entry: The Four Schools of Magic: Creation (DA:O)

Note: Diary of Peter Marsh (DA:I)

Creation Ability Trees (DA:O) (DA:2)

Spirit Healer Ability Trees (DA:O) (DA:2)

Dialogue with Fereldan refugees in Lowtown (DA:2)

Dialogue with Mother Giselle and a soldier in The Hinterlands (DA:I)

Dialogue from Dorian about the plague in the Fallow Mire (DA:I)

Dialogue with Solas about blood magic (DA:I)

Dialogue with Surgeon in Skyhold (DA:I)

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#dragon age #healing #da lore #meta

[fatehbaz]

Madras [...] [was] the English East India Company (EIC)’s most important settlement on India’s Coromandel Coast [...]. [T]he town’s survival as an EIC colony often depended on the deployment of medical and natural historical knowledge in regional diplomacy during a critical period of its existence. [...]

---

Established in 1639, the English East India Company’s settlement at Madras (also known as Madraspatam or Chinapatam, now Chennai) had quickly become the focal point of EIC operations on the Coromandel Coast. By 1695, Samuel Baron described it as ‘the most considerable to the English nation of all their settlements in India whether ... in reference to the trade to and from Europe, or the Commerce from one part of India to the other’. The later attempts to establish trades to China and Japan, to resettle the Indonesian archipelago, and to gain a foothold in Bengal, were all directed from Fort St George. [...]

Browne [an English surgeon] used his patrons in the Mughal establishment and the Company hierarchy to build up a lucrative business supplying drugs to the camps of the Mughal generals. Browne’s contacts in the Mughal army were also useful for the Company [...].[D]uring the late seventeenth and early eighteenth centuries, Madras was in a difficult position. [...] Again, Company officials turned to the network of surgeons with access to the Mughal hierarchy [...]. In 1707, the year of the Emperor Aurangzeb’s death and a time of political unrest in the Mughal Empire, Bulkley was sent to Arcot on a mission that combined medical and diplomatic aims. While there, he also collected several volumes of plants and information about their medicinal virtues. [...] The network of contacts that could be built up between physicians, who had the advantage of close personal access to those at the centre of power, was an important way to exchange information and gifts. [...] Knowledge of plants and the means of employing them was thus crucial to establishing the East India Company’s position in India [...].

---

The Company’s gardens [...] also revealed, in their beds and borders, the networks that Madras was embedded within, as ships brought seeds and plants from other Company settlements, the territories of the rival European powers, and places of regional trade [...]. The surgeons used their space in the Company gardens to experiment with local plants and to introduce crops from around the world. [...] Both Browne and Bulkley also raised plants they received from their networks of correspondents overseas: Browne describes growing China root, a popular medicinal substance normally identified with Smilax China, rhubarb, cinnamon trees from Ceylon (Sri Lanka), and wild agallo, benjamin and camphor from Manilla. [...]

[T]he scramble for the manuscripts or [plant] collections [...] [demonstrates] that the acquisition of natural knowledge was a crucial part of the competition between European trading companies to acquire and exploit the wealth of the Indies. Each of the two surgeons [Browne and Bulkley] [...] also sent a huge amount of plant materials to various correspondents in Europe [...]. Among the contacts that the surgeons maintained in England were several London apothecaries including his brother-in-law, who ran a shop in Bread Street, and Mr Porter, a drug-gist in Cornhill Street. The circle of botanists who received collections from the East Indies formed a close, though not always friendly, group of experimenters and gardeners who constituted the overlapping membership of the East India Company, the Royal Society, and the Society of Apothecaries.

The web of contacts that the two surgeons maintain within the colonial world of the Indian Ocean were invaluable because they provided them with the materials necessary to make Madras a ‘centre of calculation’ by supplying them with materials on which comparisons and connections to their own collections could be drawn. [...] Bulkley wrote at a time of transition in both England and India. [...] However, it is clear at least that by the time Bulkley died in 1713, being buried at the end of his garden, the United Company was more securely established at Madras, as expressed in its now immaculate gardens.

---

The networks of doctors had been crucial diplomatic actors in a critical period during which many believed that Madras was fated to be eclipsed altogether. [...] It was the new relationship with the rulers of Arcot established by these doctors that eventually enabled the Company to consolidate its base at Calcutta.

The surgeons’ collections reflect the hybrid environment of early modern Madras and the networks – maritime, military and diplomatic – that the doctors were embedded in [...]. Many details are missing from this reconstruction of the practice of medicine and botany in the early colonial city. Unlike the contributors to the Hortus Malabaricus, we never learn so much as the names of the Tamil and Telugu-speaking doctors who were so crucial in collecting and revealing the medicinal uses of the specimens the surgeons sent to London. Nevertheless, the role of these collaborators was clearly crucial. [...]

The collections of these two surgeons, who were key players in the transformation of politics and botany in the region, straddling local and international concerns, in many ways provide the perfect portal through which to view Madras as it was transformed from a trading post subservient to the interests of regional powers to a major player in British colonial expansion.

---

All text above by: Anna Winterbottom. “Medicine and Botany in the Making of Madras, 1680-1720.” In: The East India Company and the Natural World, edited by Vinita Damodaran, Anna Winterbottom, and Alan Lester. 2014. [Bold emphasis and some paragraph breaks/contractions added by me.]

#abolition #ecology #imperial #colonial

[beachy--head]

I didn't plan on writing a Christmas drabble this year, but then @babyjapril posted the most perfect gifset and it inspired this little Japril Christmas movie AU. Hope you'll enjoy, and happy holidays to you all!

___

Christmas in Bozeman, Montana, is always a treat, and even more since April moved away for med school and then for work. Seattle is not that far, and she tries to visit her family as often as she can, but there’s something special about the town during the Christmas season. She absolutely loves spotting the Christmas lights in the streets as she makes her way to her parents’ property, the snowy mountains offering a picture-perfect background for the season.

This year is no exception, meeting all her requirements for a perfect Christmas. At home, the lights in the Kepner’s Christmas tree are sparkling, there are so many wrapped gifts under the stockings that opening them on Christmas morning would surely take hours, and her mother spends most of the time in the kitchen, making treats and baked goods at the speed of light. 

A few hours after she arrives, April finds herself already in the kitchen. As she helps her mother add a layer of white frosting on some cookies freshly out of the oven, Karen Kepner starts listing a few last-minute details about the festivities. “Oh, and you know Robert Avery, who owns the Jefferson grill in the city outskirts? Tall, blue eyes, makes the most perfect cup of coffee? Well, his son is visiting him for the holidays, for the first time in forever, apparently. He’s a doctor too, you know! Lives in New York, or Boston, or somewhere East. So I invited them both for Christmas Eve, because the man shouldn’t have to cook on Christmas, he already does it enough during the year, and he helped your dad once with the tractor, remember? So I thought–”, and at that point, April, used to tune her mother out when she starts rambling, offers a few “yeah” and “is that so?” now and then, and thinks no more of it. 

The next day, she meets Jackson, Robert Avery’s prodigal son. At her mother’s insistence, she plays the part of the perfect tour guide and shows him everything Bozeman has to offer, she takes a few walks with him around town and laughs when he admits he’s not much of an outdoor man, they even sit down once in the cold, watching people skate on the ice rink and sharing stories about surgeries and their respective hospitals (Boston’s Mass Gen seems way more peaceful than Seattle Grace Mercy West) before she dutifully walks him back to the Jefferson Grill. Robert Avery is a sweetheart, so she’s not surprised that his son is as charming, and they hit it off as much as two big city outsiders in a small town can. His laugh when she offers him anecdotes about her years in Bozeman warm her heart, and she finds out she actually looks forward to Christmas Eve, even if it means her sisters taking a dig at her for daring to be a single, twenty-something surgeon living alone a few states away and her mother insisting she eats her weight in stuffing.

Christmas Eve is magical, Robert Avery regaling them with tales from his youth, Jackson complimenting her mother’s cooking skills and having a second helping of everything, her father looking at the whole family with a wide smile, and for a few perfect hours, she truly feels the Christmas cheer she always hopes to find when she comes back home. 

And then her overactive imagination just has to ruin it.

After dinner, everyone gathers around the fireplace, swapping stories she must have heard a hundred times. She loves her family, she really does, but she needs a break, so she goes to the kitchen and sets out to get a head start on the dishes. Jackson volunteers to help out, drying the plates she washes, and they soon talk and laugh like they haven’t just met four short days ago. They only stop when she washes the last of the plates, and she doesn’t know what happens, but his fingers lightly brush her arm as he takes the plate from her hands, and she shivers. His touch is electric, and she raises her head, finding his eyes already on her. His hand find her again, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, and she can’t help but stare at him. 

From the living room, she hears her parents exclaim that it’s time they get a move on or they’re going to be late for midnight mass, another cherished Kepner tradition, and the moment is gone. Jackson snaps out of his trance and steps backwards, shaking his head, and it’s not long before he and his father leave, his eyes avoiding her as he profusely thanks her mother for her generosity. 

So much for a perfect Christmas holiday.

She goes to bed, feeling confused and, she’s adult enough to admit it, disappointed. And because she’s April Kepner, she soon starts to feel extremely annoyed with herself. She always does this, having huge expectations that don’t go well when confronted to reality, and she’s a fool for thinking that this time would be different. That a fancy, handsome surgeon would play his part in the Christmas movie she’s apparently written in her head, and act out cliché moments under the Christmas lights. 

The next morning, waking up before everyone else, she quickly dresses up and goes for a short walk to try to clear her head. Still replaying the moment in the kitchen in her mind, she takes comfort in the fact that she’s due to go back to Seattle in a few days. She’s not going to let her delusional brain ruin what is otherwise a perfect Christmas, thank you very much, and she can easily avoid Jackson Avery until then and not make a fool of herself.

Well, it would be easier to avoid him if he wasn’t standing in her parents’ driveway as she comes back from her walk.

His eyes seem clearer than ever, and she manages a small smile, hoping he’ll credit the cold for her blushing cheeks. She stares at him a few seconds too long before she remembers her manners. 

“Hi, um, did you forget anything yesterday?”

“Actually, I did,” he answers in the low voice he seems to use just for her, and she really wishes her body would stop reacting so strongly to his presence.

The snow starts to fall just then, but she barely registers it, because she can’t tear her gaze away from him. He gets closer to her, shakes his head with a soft smile on his lips, as if he can’t believe what he’s doing, and slowly raises his hand to hold her neck. 

Their lips touch, hesitantly at first, then more insistently, and as they kiss for what seems like hours under the falling snow, she can honestly say that this Christmas is definitely a perfect one.

#japril #drabble #jackson avery #april kepner #babyjapril i hope you don't mind #but this gifset wouldn't leave my brain

[artzychic27]

How about a bad Cinderella miraculous au if you want?

… I think I’ll treat myself to some DJWiFi

Act 1

The town of Paris, France, full of conventionally attractive inhabitants, prepares to be awarded "Most Attractive Town" for the 50th year

The Queen's beloved, flawless, firstborn daughter, Princess Nora, has died in battle against a dragon, leaving her with her younger sister, Princess Alya, who’s shy and nerdy in contrast

The Queen builds a memorial statue in honor of Nora and the 50th year, but at the award ceremony, when the statue is unveiled, the town gasps when they see it has been vandalised

This causes Paris to lose their winning streak, and the townspeople blame the local misfit, Nino, the rebellious, loud-mouthed stepson of Lord Agreste

After a chase around town, they tie him to a tree in the woods in the middle of the forest, where he’s found and untied by his childhood friend, Princess Alya, who teases him for once again getting tied to a tree

They catch up and rant about their daily lives, Nino with his step-family and Alya with her royal duties and being heir to the throne. After Nino leaves, Alya fantasizes about being with him

At “home,” Nino’s stepbrothers, Adrien and Félix are having another one of their usual fights, which Gabriel blames on Nino for no reason other than that he’s just standing there. He once again threatens to kick him out of the house if he causes more trouble

He doesn’t even listen to his own sons when they tell him that Nino had nothing to do with it

Meanwhile, Alya is practicing and failing at sword fighting, ignoring the instructor and other members of the court once again comparing her to Nora. Before she can try again, the Queen enters the room with some news

Queen Marlena: Alya, we most save the kingdom’s reputation after the stunt that gutter boy pulled.

Alya: Don’t call him that. And what do you even suggest?

Queen Marlena: Oh, must I come up with everything? Now your sister, she could come up with ten ideas in under a minute!

Alya: Goodbye. *Leaves the room*

To save the town's reputation, a Royal Ball will be held on Saturday. Every boy from the kingdom is invited, and Alya will choose a husband

Every time Alya throws in an objection, she’s met with her mother once again comparing her to Nora

Still angry, Alya storms out of the palace and sneaks off into the town square to confront Nino and blame him for the upcoming royal wedding. They argue some, but eventually, Alya asks him to at least come to the ball before running off

At the Palace, Gabriel visits the Queen, and they recall their youth and Gabriel subtly brings up blackmail, reminding the Queen of how “rambunctious” she was. To keep this from getting out, he suggests that Alya marry one of his sons, and the Queen reluctantly agrees

Soon everyone in Paris is on a shopping spree in the town square to prepare for the Ball

With each passing day, Alya gains popularity with the local boys who each flirt with her, but she brushes each of them off and goes toward Nino, asking that he attend the ball, only for Gabriel to cut in and loudly commend the Princess for inviting the gutter boy out of pity because of his dull looks, earning some laughter and causing Nino to run off in embarrassment

Later at the manor, Gabriel, Adrien, and Félix prepare for the ball while Nino angrily assists them, occasionally pricking Gabriel with a needle

When they leave, Nino, determined to go to the Ball and show everyone up, visits Godmother, a popular plastic surgery spot where head surgeon, Cosette Bellamy and her team of beauticians have made the townsfolk look perfect

In exchange for Nino’s necklace, gifted to him by his mothers before their passing, Cosette provides a temporary cosmetic makeover, complete with a beautiful suit and a pair of crystal shoes. She warns Nino that the pain from the cosmetics will be bearable only until midnight

Act 2

At the ball, Alya finds herself being flocked by dozens of guys vying for her attention, and is annoyed with each one. They either want her for her looks or her status. The others are more…

Kim: Look, you seem great, and a hottie to boot, but I’m kind of into someone else and let me tell you, she is gorgeous. Not that you’re not gorgeous, though.

—

Ivan: I’m just doing this to get my uncle off my back. No hard feelings, but I have feelings for this other girl.

—

Max: I find you attractive, but that’s merely science talking. You have a perfectly symmetrical face and your eyes are nicely spaced which I admire, but prefer on guys. I’m gay if you couldn’t tell.

—

Nathaniel: Could you point me in the direction of that cute guy with the messy black hair? I can’t seem to find him.

—

Marc: Did a cute redhead pass by here?

—

Alya is annoyed by her suitors and is anxious, as she must choose a bride by midnight. Just then, Nino arrives, magnificent but unrecognised

Queen Marlena forces Alya to dance with him, and Alya reluctantly does so, making it clear to him that she doesn’t want to do this. Nino is put off by her behavior, not realizing that Alya doesn’t know it’s her, and confesses that he is in love with her, but Alya rebuffs him

Adrien and Félix soon recognize Nino under all of the cosmetics, but don’t intervene. Although, Félix is tempted when he notices Nino looking uncomfortable in his tight shoes

When Alya snaps at Nino, comparing him to the other “braindead” guys here at the ball, he storms off in a huff, and Gabriel seizes the moment to push Adrien toward Alya, making them accidentally kiss in front of everyone at the stroke of midnight, and Queen Marlena declares him as Alya’s new husband

When the cosmetics begin to feel painful and Nino rubs it off of his face, Alya recognizes and runs after him, but he dismisses her

Nino: Don’t fucking touch me!

Alya: I didn’t know it was you! You need to believe me- you just look so different, and-

Nino: Stop! Whatever we had, it’s over. It’s done, and I never want to see you again!

Alya, in anguish over hurting Nino, shoves her feelings aside and reluctantly accepts her fate

Later at the manor, Gabriel gloats over Adrien’s engagement as they prepare for the wedding whenever Nino is in earshot. He mocks Nino for failing to see that Alya loved him, and Nino finally snaps, striking Gabriel across the face with no remorse before storming up to his room to pack and leave Paris

However, Félix makes his way in and encourages him to stop the wedding, letting him know that he and Adrien are both on his side

At the wedding, everything is going smoothly. Gabriel is reveling in the fact that he will soon become royalty while Adrien and Alya are both in ready uncomfortable and unhappy. When the preacher asks for objections, the doors swing open, revealing none other than-

Marc: It’s Princess Nora!

Juleka: I LOVE YOU, NORA!

Nora: Love you, too, rando.

After recounting her adventures, she admits that she only arrived at the wedding to save Alya. To prevent her own arranged marriage, she faked her death and has returned to marry the love of her life.

She comes out as gay and introduces her fiancé, Princess Vivica

Gabriel is devastated as his plan unravels, but the Queen is overjoyed, since this marriage will return Paris to splendour, and everyone in Belleville cheers for the new Queens

As the wedding bells ring out, Nino hears the bells from a distance and thinks that Alya is married. Heartbroken, he returns home to resume packing and heads out of Paris

At the Palace, Queen Nora and her new wife celebrate a lavish wedding reception, but Alya is miserable.

Adrien and Félix approach and tells her about Nino’s plan to stop her wedding

Félix: It was whole thing. He was gonna show up on a white horse and whisk you away.

Adrien: No, he wasn’t.

Félix: Hush, I’m setting a scene.

Alyaa decides to go after Nino, and leaves the party

Gabriel, meanwhile, accuses the Queen of breaching their deal, but Queen Marlena threatens to execute Gabriel for attempting to blackmail royalty, and throws him out of the Palace in front of everyone, leaving his reputation in shambles

As she’s leaving the palace, Alya comes across Cosette, who’s wearing Nino’s necklace. They willfully hand it to her and tell her to hurry

Alya arrives at the manor, only to find only his crystal shoes and is devastated, thinking she’s too late. To her relief, Nino returns for the slippers… to sell them

Alya returns his necklace and tells him what happened and how sorry she is for snapping at him at the ball, and Nino apologizes for the insults he said to her at the ball

Tired of waiting, Alya kisses him, and Nino kisses her back. Rather than letting him run away, Alya invites him to Nora and Clara’s wedding party as her date, and Nino agrees. The two walk hand-in-hand and share another kiss

#miraculous ladybug #miraculous #djwifi #alya césaire #nino lahiffe #mlb au #bad cinderella #mlb ocs #answered ask #ask me stuff

[animeladybug]

Happy Felix Day!

Since Friday the 13th lands in October this year, I couldn't pass up the opportunity to patch together this quick little birthday fic for our favorite grumpy espresso kitty.

"Swiss?"

"Huh?" Alya turned to face her friend with a somewhat confused expression.

"Swiss chocolates? Does he like those?" Marinette inquired.

"I don't know. He's rich, so.. maybe.." Alya trepidatiously responded.

"Maybe German made stuff?" Marinette asked again as though she hadn't heard the answer. Her ahoge curved into a sort of question mark shape.

"Peanut butter." Alya quickly countered.

"Huh?" Marinette turned and acknowledged Alya for the first time since the conversation started.

"From what I've seen in his very close circle, Felix likes peanut butter candy. His Dad won't let him eat chocolate at all, but when he gets an opportunity, it's THAT one." Alya concluded with a wry smile.

"HUH?! So.. That means.. If someone GAVE him some candies like that…" Marinette half-whispered to herself, a crimson blush beginning to cross her cheeks. Her ahoge now curving into the shape of a heart.

"Like a certain LUCKY BUG perhaps?" Alaya hinted in a mild tone, capping it off with a wink.

"ALYA! SHHH!" Marinette frantically shushed, holding her index finger to her mouth with a panicked expression.

"Oh, it's okay.." Alya assured her friend with a casual glance around the campus grounds "No one can hear."

"You can never be TOO careful!" Marinette replied in a hushed tone and a suspicious expression, her ahoge now slowly spinning in circles like a radar. "Besides.. I CAN'T use my powers for selfish reasons, you know that! Something bad would happen to Felix or me!"

Alya simply heaved a sigh and replied "Mari dear, you don't take enough risks. If you love Felix THAT much, you've got to be willing enough to do something wild to get his attention!"

"I..I do love him, Alya.." Marinette replied timidly, her ahoge reflecting the heart shape once more. "But a birthday gift has to be carefully thought out. Besides, I DO have a plan.." She said. A slight grin beginning to form on her lips.

"THAT'S my girl! Always resourceful!" Alya smiled back.

Suddenly, the cheerful mood was cut short by a stray black cat traipsing by.

"Just a coincidence.. Don't worry." Alya attempted to assure her friend.

"SHUT UP!" Felix Sphinx shouted as he tossed the book halfway across the room, it just barely missed Plagg, his floating black cat fairy near the edge of his private library.

"HEEEY! Watch it! That was too close for comfort!" He complained.

"DON'T push me!" Felix snapped back at the mischievous creature. "I'm NOT going to let THIS birthday end up like the rest! I'm GOING to find a way to woo Ladybug!"

"Well, you don't have to take it out on me just because you can't stand some constructive criticism, birthday boy!" Plagg spat, crossing his arms defensively.

"For it to be constructive criticism, Plagg, it has to be CONSTRUCTIVE to begin with! All you've given me is DESTRUCTIVE criticism!" Felix growled, digging his face into the book he'd been reading. [Some peanut butter chocolates would really hit the spot right now..] He thought somewhat distantly.

Marinette sweated feverishly.. Carefully inserting the peanut butter interiors into each small chocolate pieces on her kitchen counter with the skill of a surgeon.

"Mari.. I really think you're overworking yourself!" Tikki, the small ladybug fairy imparted as she floated near her.

"Tikki! I've been making pastries since I was a child! I THINK I know what I'm doing!" Marinette responded tersely.

"Yes, but HOW LONG have you made them while KNITTING a scarf with your TOES?!" Tikki demanded.

"I'm on a time crunch, okay?!" Mari replied snippishly.

The next day, Marinette's ahoge probed around the large oak tree located near the school bench where Felix sat reading a book. With expert stealth and skill, she climbed the tree up towards the top, with a bundle carefully cradled in her free hand. Her ahoge then pointed forward slightly, as though acting like a targeting site near the empty seat near him. Then, with the grace of a trained bombardier, dropped the payload, which landed with a light thud next to the object of her affection!

Felix's eyes flared open with surprise, instinctively taking a combat position as he looked around with confusion only to see not a foe in sight. He cautiously looked over to see the bundle wrapped in decorative paper near him. Examining a tag attached, it declared in fanciful script "HAPPY BIRTHDAY, FELIX!" His eyes still wide with surprise as they darted up to the treetop above him!

Marinette lay perfectly still on the limb she was wrapped around.. Trying her best not to betray her position. [Please don't let him see me! PLEASE don't let him see me!] She thought.

After a few more seconds and a sniff of indifference. Felix picked up the package and sauntered off with it.

[YES! He took it! He took..] Marinette began to think elatedly, before quickly losing her grip and tumbling from the tree! Now flat on her back in the soft grass, whatever nagging discomfort she felt was blocked by a sense of relief.. "Happy Birthday, Felix, my darling.." She said softly to herself.

"HEY! FREEZE!" Ladybug shouted to the sure-footed thief now bolting from one moonlit rooftop to another!

"HA! Nice try kid, but I'm outta.. HEEAAAAA!" The thief began to turn and taunt before he slipped and slid on roof tiles that suddenly came loose and attached to his feet, which he then proceeded to become entangled into a clothesline suspended in between two buildings.

From out of the shadows, Chat Noir casually sauntered over and snatched the stolen purse out of the thief's hand. "Sorry, pal. You're fresh outta LUCK!" He remarked.

"Hey, thanks again.." Ladybug remarked somewhat reservedly.

"Hmmph.. My pleasure, mon cherie.." Chat replied, swaggering over to the object of his desire. "You know.. Tonight is Friday the 13th.. And it's known to be.. quite unlucky.. Perhaps you'd be better off if a certain black cat crossed."

"OkaythanksI'mgoingtogivethisbacktotheladyhestolethisfrombye!" Ladybug declared in a rapid fire delivery, before leaping off the rooftop.

"Sigh This truly IS an unlucky day.." Chat moped.

Ladybug, having returned the purse to its rightful owner and now cascading carefree from the lampposts and rooftops on the slightly chilly Paris night couldn't help but notice something was different about the somewhat irritating fellow vigilante.. Something familiar.. About the scent of his breath..

[Peanut butter?] She thought to herself.

#Ladybug PV #anime #fanfic #Bridgette Cheng #Felix Sphinx #Tikki #Plagg #Alya #Felixday

[remyfire]

Charles/Hawkeye for the ship asks.

Do I Ship It?

Yes, I Ship It!!

What made you ship it? —Ohhhhhh my god oh my god the boys YES hell yes. As the central protagonist of the series, Hawk obviously lends himself to shipping—I could watch him kiss a tree and find that compelling. But I feel like from the moment Charles was on screen snipping with Hawk, I was ready for them to hatefuck. I could not imagine a world where they wouldn't. And this was S6, when Charles is arguably ready to sell his bunkies out for even a crumb of possibility that he'd make it back to Tokyo! My god! Watching the burgeoning and sometimes reluctant respect on either side put paid to the possibility that I might not ship them. And notably I still haven't gotten to Sons and Bowlers, which will arguably throw me on the floor and leave me wailing.

What are your favorite things about the ship? —There is a very clear degree of respect that Charles has for Hawkeye that he doesn't have for any other surgeon and it compels the hell out of me. There's a moment in Merchant of Korea where he very deliberately refers to BJ as "Pierce's Friend," and it gets me every time—BJ does not have an identity to Charles at this point if he is not in Hawkeye's company (I believe Temporary Duty is what mostly fully changes that notion, but that's neither here nor there). Hawk and Charles wind each other up in a way that no one else can, but they also go toe to toe with each other and keep up. And at the end of the day, it is the presence of men like Hawkeye that begin softening the prickly and stuffy exterior that Charles has carried with him this whole time. The man has never had a true friend before he ends up at the 4077th. That ruins me all on its own. Also frankly? Love the idea of Charles spoiling Hawk with all the money and gifts and things in the world. It's compelled me from day fucking one. GOOD SHIT.

Is there an unpopular opinion you have on your ship? —Ooh, honestly, I don't think so! I'm still feeling these two out alone tbh—as everyone can tell, I have a much more vivid connection to BJ as a character, so I can tap into his ships much faster than any that don't involve him. I know if I haven't figured them out by the time I get to Sons and Bowlers, that episode alone will probably solidify anything foggy that remains.

#i am inching my way through my ideas about them slowly and one day i will finally settle completely on something i really like that sticks #because i adore them together #i just need to find the angle that really gets me in there and doesn't let go and i know i'm right on the cusp of it #ty for this!! #ask meme answers

[frankiecatphotography]

Tree Surgeon Jigsaw Puzzle - on sale!

#jigsaw puzzle #tree surgeon #tree surgeon puzzle #cyber Monday #frankie cat photography #great gift #on sale #Christmas #Christmas gift #Christmas gifts #Frankie Cat #gift ideas #fun gift

[apple-grass-and-smiles]

i get along without you some nights

Summary: Spending the holidays without someone you love is a strange, surreal, scary situation. Everyone handles it differently, everyone wonders about a different world, and, eventually, everyone makes it through the holiday. And then the next. And the one after that. And so on and so forth until things get at least a little better.

Six different characters, six different holidays, and six different ways of approaching not having someone they love to celebrate with.

OR: A Secret Santa gift for @y3ll0w-b3ntl3y! I hope this piece brings you some happiness/joy/laughter. You can either use the AO3 link above or read the fic below the read more!

A/N: Hello, my friends! Long time no see! This is a piece for y3ll0w-b3ntl3y as part of the Prodigal Son Secret Santa that whats-a-terrarium organized. Hopefully it’s a good gift! The title is adapted from “Almost (Sweet Music)” by Hozier because I was so desperate for a title that I actually googled “Hozier lyrics loss”. 

This idea has been floating through my head since mid-November and has had a few different iterations. I lost a very, very close family friend this summer and have been thinking a lot about how people get through their first holidays without someone they love and this was born from that. The vignettes are roughly saddest first and they get more hopeful from there. JT’s vignette is just texts, which will hopefully be clear but if not, now you know.

TW: Mostly canon-typical things. Alcoholism, some depression. Jessica’s is the most graphic/intense and can be skipped as needed.

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

The Christmas tree was already up when Martin was… (Jessica was still trying to find the polite term for it, trying different ones on) taken away. Normally Jessica insisted on no hints of Christmas in the home until the Thanksgiving dinner had been cleared from the table, but Malcolm had campaigned valiantly to put it up early. As per usual, Ainsley had joined in, asking Jessica to make an exception to her rule and then Martin had given Jessica that look, the one that had been crumbling her resolve since the day they met. 

The tree was decorated as part of Malcolm’s family birthday party. Great aunt Mildred and Birdie and all the other Miltons covered the tree in ornaments from Chanel and Tiffany and made snide comments at the humble Hallmark ornaments Martin produced from his own meager collection. (Jessica had joked to Martin as he held her in his arms that it was not worth it to use an ornament hook to kill her family members. The irony was not lost on Jessica, no matter how much wine she drank.) The final result had been the definition of a Milton Tree. Nothing but matching ornaments, the kids’ handmade ornaments hidden in the back of the tree or so close to the trunk so as to appear invisible. The tree was perfect from the gold star to the Hermes tree skirt.

Jess hated it. 

So she and Martin let the kids stay up well past their bedtime so as to un-decorate and re-decorate the tree, making it their own. Laughter had filled the home as Martin lifted Malcolm to put ornaments at the top of the tree and Ainsley skipped around the room with her fourth (fifth?) cookie, singing “Jingle Bells” at the top of her lungs. Jessica tried to capture the moment, to bottle it so she could reminisce on and sip at it like a fine wine.

Two days later, Jessica Whitly stood next to the tree while officers asked her questions and her husband became a stranger to her and she watched her children’s childhoods begin to melt away and all she could do was say no, I didn’t know anything over and over and over. The whole time the Christmas lights her husband had strung so lovingly around the tree with the precision of a surgeon (and The Surgeon) shone just to the right of her face. 

Two weeks after the arrest and eight days before Christmas, Jessica was drunk because that was all that was left to do. Her kids were broken, her husband was the monster who broke them, she was the useless maiden who watched as it all happened and did nothing, and now she was spending more money on alcohol than anything else. Every happy moment she’d bottled up of her time with Martin and her children was ruined. And standing there, completely unchanged despite Jessica’s life having crumbled to ash, was the Christmas tree. It mocked her. Mocked her desire for a family, a partner, a happy life. It had to go. And her cocktail provided insight into what to do with the stupid tree. 

It was only midmorning when Jessica began her drunken battle against the tree. Ornaments were thrown to the ground and shattered. She rubbed her hands raw trying to get all the pine needles off of the branches. She took a pair of scissors to the tree skirt until there was no hope of ever saving it. Custom ornaments celebrating her engagement, her wedding, Malcolm’s birth, her 5th anniversary, Ainsley’s birth were all crushed under high heels. For the grand finale, she pushed the tree to the ground and poured a generous helping of liquor for herself before dumping the rest on the tree. She had the lighter in her hand when Malcolm’s trembling voice cut through the haze, “Mom, don’t; not in the house.”

Jessica turned to see her children huddled together on the stairs, watching her. Ainsely was mostly hidden behind her brother but both looked at her with expressions she recognized from that horrible night. Expressions that showed surprise to discover that their parents were capable of such violence and destruction. And part of Jessica was broken that they would think that of her and another part was furious because how dare they compare her to the man sitting in a cell with more pending charges than she cared to count. Martin had always been the fun parent, the one who encouraged them to pester Jessica about breaking perfectly good traditions, like waiting to set the tree up until December first, and now, right before Christmas when there was supposed to be joy and peace in the world and her children were supposed to have not a care in the world, he was the lowlife who left Jessica to clean up after him. 

She’d clean up after Martin, make the kids go to school in January, be sure their clothes fit, tell the chef what to make for dinner, go to the charity events so it was clear her family was thriving. She would get along just fine and make sure her children did too. But first, the tree had to go. 

Jessica sent her children to their rooms. Then she set the tree and everything it symbolized ablaze. 

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

Dani’s 17th birthday was on the three-month anniversary of her dad’s death. She had just started to get to the point where she could go a day or two without crying and she had finally stopped setting the dinner table for the whole family. She had even remembered to ask for four tickets at the movies instead of five. Her heart was still a gaping wound but it wasn’t as raw. 

Then her birthday rolled around, bringing with it a promise that her father would never be able to keep. 

Her father had been taking her and her sisters on special father-daughter dates for their birthday for as long as she could remember. According to him, gifts were good but experiences were excellent. When she was five, he’d taken Dani to a carnival and let her ride the carousel as many times as she wanted. For her 10th birthday, he took her to get her ears pierced and let her pick out earrings that she knew were above her family’s price range, revealing the extra cash he’d been saving just for that occasion. For her 16th birthday, her last ever one with him, they dressed up in their nicest suit and dress, washed his dingy old car until it shined, and drove to the fanciest place they could find. They hadn’t even ordered appetizers before they decided that no place had a right to charge $100 for a house salad and snuck out to eat at the greasy spoon a couple miles away. Dani had spilled ketchup on her pale purple prom dress and she, her dad, their waitress, and the cook had spent 15 minutes getting it out. It had been perfect, an absolutely fitting end to a tradition Dani looked forward to throughout the whole year. 

This birthday there wouldn’t be a father-daughter outing to the beach like Dani had planned. Instead she sat through a calc test where she knew none of the answers, ate a truly pitiful cafeteria attempt at spaghetti and meatballs, and hid in bathroom stalls to cry. When Dani had been out of her fifth period class for far longer than her bathroom hall pass allowed, the school counselor was dispatched to find her. Dani had never spoken to the counselor before her dad died but at this point they were on a first name basis. (Dani saw it as a good sign when the older woman introduced herself as Elle, short for Danielle. Something about their names fitting together like puzzle pieces made her feel safe.) Dani finished the day in Elle’s office, completing work that could have been written in Greek for all Dani knew. 

Before her dad died, going home after school was usually a relief. Now it felt like walking into his funeral over and over. Her mom had tried her hardest to bring the Powell house back to life, adding colorful art with motivational messages and insisting on opening the windows to let in fresh air, even when it was raining and the humidity made Dani’s hair resemble a lion’s mane. But she had to go home, couldn’t dream of scaring her mom by being late, and at least at home she could sleep until tomorrow rolled around and it wasn’t her birthday anymore. 

Even 10 years after her 17th birthday, Dani won’t be able to remember what happened after school that day. Pictures indicate that she had cupcakes and she had sat through her sisters and mom singing “Happy Birthday”. She doesn’t remember anything else. In fact, the rest of that school year and most of that summer are lost to Dani. Her therapist will say it’s a common way for people to manage grief, that the depression will ease with time, that all of it is completely and utterly normal. Dani figures it was her brain’s way of ignoring that her dad wasn’t there. Dad couldn’t be missing from her memories of her birthday if she had none. 

Every birthday after that one hurts in some way, sometimes for the full 24 hours and other times for only a split second. Her 18th is full of anger at her dad for not being there. Her 21st involves her bawling while drunk in some random bar about how she wishes she could be with her dad, even if it meant not being around anymore. She writes a seven-page letter to her dad on her 27th, updating him on every detail of the last decade as if he were still alive. Her 32nd brings a sense of acceptance, of knowing that as much as she misses him and wishes he could be there as she blows out her birthday candles, she wouldn’t trade the life she has for anything.

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Edrisa had never spent the Fourth of July in the US until she was 26. Summer was the ideal season for her parents to do research in far off lands, which meant it was the season where Edrisa packed a couple bags and left home to follow them on their travels. But this year she couldn’t make the trip. Or, more accurately, she was purposely not invited on the trip. It wasn’t surprising that she had been excluded, but it still hurt.

She had always been closer to her parents than anyone else in the world. Friends were few and far between and even when she did manage to make one, she never felt as comfortable in her skin with them as she did in a hut in a random country with her parents. (And, yes, maybe she wasn’t giving her friends a chance to get close to her and, yes, maybe she wasn’t trying her hardest to make connections, but still.) The comfort meant she kept going on research trips long after she turned 18, kept running back to the safety of the trio that made up her family. 

But then she told her parents she was hoping to be a medical examiner instead of pursuing internal medicine like she had originally planned. She hadn’t realized how much that original plan meant to her parents but her announcement led to a debate that grew into an argument before becoming a full-blown, knock-down, drag-out fight. That had been over her spring break in April and she and her parents hadn’t spoken since and it was tearing her apart. 

Edrisa prided herself on her resilience though and so she planned to make the most of this first Independence Day in her home country. And if that distracted her from her parents’ radio silence, then that was a nice bonus. Edrisa had accepted every invite she got from various colleagues and coworkers, crammed her schedule full of pancake breakfasts, barbeques, block parties, and firework shows. She saw the same few scenes of Independence Day in four different places. She ate no less than five hot dogs throughout the day. By the end of the day, she had spent a total of 160 minutes watching fireworks. But no amount of hot dogs or fireworks or dramatic speeches could dull the voice in the back of her head that was wondering what her mom and dad were doing.

Had Dad gotten sick from sketchy water yet because he didn’t let it boil long enough? Had Mom found the scarf she wanted to buy to add to her collection? Were they seeing souvenirs and thinking of her? Which coworkers were they with? Darrell? Synthia? Nasir? That guy with the cool tattoo sleeves whose name Edrisa could never remember? Did they remember that it was the Fourth of July?

Edrisa arrived back at her tiny apartment far past her usual bedtime, Edrisa curled up on her couch, skipping between TV channels for something she could fall asleep to. By the time she stumbled on the fifth channel playing Independence Day (always that one speech; surely there was more to this movie than this one speech), she had accepted that the universe had clearly determined her entertainment for the night. 

Edrisa settled in to see how the movie ended as one guy (the President? He was in a suit giving a speech and that seemed like enough of a context clue for Edrisa) delivered his, admittedly very moving, speech. “And should we win the day, the 4th of July will no longer be known as an American holiday, but as the day when the world declared in one voice, we will not go quietly into the night. We will not vanish without a fight.”

Maybe it was the actor’s delivery or the music or fate, but Edrisa found herself ruminating on the same line over and over: “We will not vanish without a fight.” It seemed absurd to compare her fight with her parents to humanity fighting off aliens, but good advice was good advice. Edrisa didn’t want to give up on her family. If she wanted to patch things up, to help her parents see why she didn’t want to work with living patients, to not have to suffer through another Fourth of July block party where she didn’t know anyone, she was going to have to put up a fight. And so she pulled up her e-mail as Will Smith did heroic things and wrote to her parents. She poured all the feelings she’d felt that day, all the melancholy and anger and grief and longing, into the e-mail, took a deep breath, hit send, and turned off her TV. (Edrisa will be well into her 60s before she actually sees Independence Day all the way through. She did have the President’s speech memorized more than 25 years before that.) ------------------------------------------------------------------------------

February 14th, 2010-

Tally: Happy Valentines babe <3 <3

JT: Love you!

Tally: How likely is it that your sergeant is gonna let you off early today?

JT: -1000%

Tally: Did you try the “it’s my first valentines with my wife” angel?

Tally: Angle!

JT: Salazar isn’t going to budge. No seniority, no chance of going home early

Tally: But you’ll try anyway right…? (: 

JT: Only because I love you. If you don’t hear back from me it’s because Salazar has sentenced me to work overtime for the next month.

Tally: Fingers crossed!

Tally: Anything?

Tally: It’s been 10 minutes, are you alive?

Tally: JT ANSWER ME OR I’M POSTING YOUR FULL NAME ON FACEBOOK!!!!!!!!

JT: He laughed me out of the room

JT: And now I’m on parking violation duty for the day

Tally: Sorry babe…

JT: Wish I could be with you ):

Tally: Maybe I could go and violate some parking laws…? What do you say, Officer Tarmel?

JT: This is why I married you

Tally: That and the fact that I’m nice enough to wear those heels you love to go and get a parking ticket

JT: your my dream girl ------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Thanksgiving had always been Jackie’s holiday. Ever since their first Thanksgiving together, Gil and Jackie had agreed she would handle Thanksgiving and he would put together Christmas dinner. Jackie had taken immense joy in her perfect Thanksgiving dinners. As if by magic, she made sure the food was done cooking all at the same time, the turkey was never dry, and she had an apple pie so good she would print the recipe to hand out to guests. 

The last two Thanksgivings before Jackie had passed away had been pale imitations of the ones they used to have. The first one, Gil ate some Chinese food while Jackie curled on the couch and nibbled at saltines because the chemo made her too nauseous for anything else. The second was spent in the hospital, discussing funeral plans because Jackie wanted to make sure Gil knew exactly what she wanted. The first Thanksgiving after Jackie died, Gil offered to work so another officer who had just had a baby could be home for the holiday. Gil worked a 13-hour shift, finding reasons to stick around long after he could have gone home. The second Thanksgiving, he went to DC to see Bright, hoping that being in an unfamiliar city would help stave off the sadness that he would never have a Thanksgiving with Jackie again. Bright had gotten called in for an emergency and Gil had spent the day wandering through the city by himself. 

Gil runs out of ways to avoid Thanksgiving the third year. He has too much overtime so work is a no-go. Bright is back in New York. Gil doesn’t particularly want to travel at Thanksgiving again and definitely not by himself. He considered helping at a shelter but apparently the rest of the city has had the same idea because Gil was informed that no additional volunteers were needed. 

He plans to approach the dreaded Thursday like any other. He’ll make a normal meal. He’ll watch a football game he had missed earlier in the week instead of the Thanksgiving games. He will close his curtains so that if a balloon from the parade somehow magically makes its way to his part of town, he won’t see it. 

Gil’s in the middle of heating up canned tomato soup and making a grilled cheese when there’s a knock at the door. He opens it without looking through the peephole, hoping it’s the turtleneck he ordered to replace one that Bright destroyed earlier in the week. The shipping e-mail had said it should be arriving that day. Instead, he finds JT and Tally with four food containers. “It’s just the sides. We were going to bring some turkey but Tally says it’s inedible so…” JT shrugs as he places the food on the table and explains what is what. There’s creamed corn and mashed potatoes and Gil’s stomach rumbles despite his best efforts. The visit is very brief (Tally’s family is headed to their apartment and they need to clean up before anyone gets there) and the food is wonderful. It’s not Jackie’s, not by a long shot, but it’s different enough that it feels odd to compare them and that’s a blessing. 

Gil has just gotten through half of his mashed potatoes when there’s another knock at the door. Again, he hops up, hoping to find his turtleneck on the other side. Instead, he finds Bright, smiling, with Ainsley and Jessica standing behind him. Gil has experienced a Whitly Thanksgiving once, many years ago. It’s just one step down from a black tie affair and Gil had spent most of the four-hour meal prepping to break up a domestic dispute between the various Milton relatives. It had been one of the most unpleasant holidays he had ever experienced and he had spent dozens of holidays working as a police officer, which always promised at least one tragedy. 

Thrown off by seeing the Whitly crew instead of a FedEx employee, it took Gil a moment to realize that Bright was holding an entire turkey. His confusion must have shown on his face because Bright leaned towards Gil and, in a rather loud stage whisper, said, “I told Mother it made no sense to bring a whole turkey, but you know how she gets when she sets her mind on something.” Ainsley chuckled behind Bright and Jessica looked between both her children with a look of overexaggerated offense. 

Gil’s manners kicked in after a moment. “Do you want to come in? I can’t eat a whole turkey alone,” he gestured with his hand to invite them in, but all three responded by shaking their heads.

“Thank you, Gil, but we can’t impose,” Jessica said in her tone that indicated there was no room for disagreement. “There’s no need to play host on today of all days.” The subtext was clear: I wouldn’t want to have to pretend to be okay on a hard day; I won’t make you. It was a kind thought but as he watched the little family walk back to the car, Ainsley and Bright joking with each other, Gil wasn’t sure if he would rather them stay or leave. 

The turkey was delicious and Gil was nodding off in his favorite chair when the third and final knock of the evening came. Gil got up, again feeling the excitement of getting his new turtleneck because surely that’s the only reason someone would be at his door at 9:00 PM on Thanksgiving. 

“You’re not my turtleneck,” Gil bemoaned as he opened the door to see Dani. 

She scoffed, “Nice to see you too.”

“Sorry, I’ve just been waiting for the turtleneck-”

“You ordered to replace the one that got ruined in that fire Bright set?” Dani raised her eyebrows, proud of finishing his sentence. 

Gil chuckled, “You and I may spend too much time together.” 

Dani made her way into Gil’s living room, comfortable enough to not wait for permission. “I brought you something,” Dani said while extending her hand that held an opaque Tupperware. Her voice was tinged with nervousness; it reminded Gil of a kid handing in a test they thought they might fail. “It’s definitely not perfect and I don’t think I baked it long enough but hopefully it’s okay.”

As Dani spoke, Gil opened the container and was met by a smell so familiar and beloved that it brought a tear to his eyes. The smell was the perfect mix of apple, cinnamon, and nutmeg; a smell so connected to Jackie that Gil could have sworn she was in the room. He couldn’t resist tasting it, even though he suspected that Dani might still be talking, unaware that he had been transported to happier years. She was right, the pie could have done with another minute or two but besides that it was perfect. No one else had ever gotten it this perfect. He couldn’t even get it this perfect and he helped Jackie make her pie at least a dozen times. 

“Dani,” Gil was fighting back the emotions that were threatening to overwhelm him. “This is just right. How… How did you get it just right?”

Pulling a stained and folded piece of paper from her back pocket, with a look of surprise on her face, Dani responded, “Jackie gave me the recipe that first Thanksgiving, right before she got…” Right before she got sick hung in the air, unsaid. How many times had Gil seen Jackie pass out this recipe? And yet no one had ever made the pie correctly. What made Dani different? He unfolded the recipe like it was a precious artifact. Scrawled in Jackie’s messy handwriting in the corner was a note: Top secret! To make this correctly add apple cider syrup (about ½ cup). Love, Jackie.

Gil didn’t even try to contain his laugh. Of course, Jackie, his Jackie who was so competitive and always up to something mischievous, would never give out her full recipe, not even to him. And of course, Jackie, his Jackie who was endlessly compassionate and always looking out for people, would have the foresight to see that Dani would be the type of person to bring him pie when Jackie was gone. Even now, his wife was amazing him and making sure he had a proper Thanksgiving. 

As Gil fell asleep that night, his phone buzzed. More out of habit than anything, he reached for it and found an e-mail. The subject line? “Men’s gray turtleneck delivery delayed to 1/31”. Gil groaned. Now if only one of his team members would show up with a turtleneck!

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

Logically, Bright gets the value of New Year’s. It's a clear chance for a new beginning, a perfect time to reflect on the past, and, of course, an opportunity for one more party before the holiday season ends and everyone returns to their normal lives. It all makes sense in theory. 

Theory isn’t reality and the reality of New Year’s has never met Bright’s expectations. New York on December 31st is always brimming with tourists who want to see the ball drop and make the city claustrophobic. Reflecting on the past year usually includes remembering a laundry list of mistakes and horror. Planning for the new year just results in people expecting something that never comes. And, to be completely honest, he has yet to attend a New Year’s Eve party that he didn’t regret the next morning. Nothing about midnight on January first makes anyone a new person. 

Despite all of that, Bright’s loft was decked out for a New Year’s Eve party thanks to a bet. He had been so confident the janitor had killed their victim and JT had been equally confident Bright was wrong. So the bet was made: if Bright was right JT had to reveal the letter that came after the J in his name; if JT won, Bright had to throw a New Year’s Eve party. It had not been the janitor, but the janitor’s identical twin brother who killed the victim. Despite his best efforts to convince him otherwise, Gil ruled in favor of JT and now Bright had a party to throw.

Mother had, of course, taken matters into her own hands, insisting that there was no way Bright could throw a New Year’s party as well as her event planner could. He had tried to convince her that this would be a small party with just a few people from work and that it truly did not require an event planner who would charge at least $4,000. His efforts were in vain and now he could barely recognize his own home through the catered food, the enormous number of gold and silver decorations, and the pièce de résistance: a disco ball that was far too big for his apartment. 

Perhaps it was fitting that he couldn’t recognize his home under the decorations. Life had become increasingly unrecognizable since that day in Vermont with Martin and the Woodsman. The day his father had tried to kill him and Bright had instead murde– killed his father. (His army of therapists had been working diligently to help Bright change the way he spoke about the event; shifting from Bright murdering Martin to Bright having defended himself. It was a very slow process.) Bright didn’t recognize himself most days and his safe spaces had dwindled rapidly. There was court and mandatory time off and 72-hour holds and so much therapy. There were hard conversations to be had and confessions to be made and apologies to be given by the dozens. Now, still far from okay but no longer on the edge of insanity, Bright was facing a completely foreign idea: a new year without his father. 

Martin Whitly would not see a single second of 2022. 

Malcolm Bright would get to see all of them. 

Malcolm had never had a year without his father. Never had a chance to see what he could be without Martin. Never even considered that one day he wouldn’t feel torn between Claremont and the real world where people were sometimes cruel but mostly kind. Maybe Bright didn’t buy into the idea of New Year’s because he’d still be carrying his trauma and demons and flaws whether it was December 31st, 2021 or January 1st, 2022, but it did seem worth celebrating a year where he would only carry the ghost of his father, instead of the real thing. 

So, despite the party being entirely over-the-top, Bright made the most of it. He laughed with his friends, played party games and lost at all of them in spectacular fashion. He ate some food that wasn’t licorice and Dani literally applauded him for it. He got to hold JT’s baby who smiled at Bright and for a moment he enjoyed being with someone who did not find him strange or odd or shattered through with trauma. Kisses and hugs were shared at midnight and it felt like maybe beautiful things were beginning. 

By the time 2:00 AM rolled around, it was just Bright, sitting on the floor, his back against his front door. The loft was a disaster and Bright was certain it would take years to de-glitter the space. The sirens outside were loud and more frequent than normal and if he squinted, Bright could see snow falling lightly outside. He leaned his head back against the door and released a long breath, thinking about how this year, as ridiculous as it was, felt different, felt lighter. It was enough to make him laugh. The noise bubbled up out of his mouth involuntarily and startled Sunshine awake from her perch just a bit above Bright’s head. She chirped indignantly, as if scolding him for waking her up. It made him laugh even more. He apologized to her and pulled himself up to start heading to bed. 

“Happy new year, Sunshine. I think it’ll be a good one.”

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A/N: For a person who has only just started using emojis in the year 2023, not using them in Tally and JT’s text was shockingly difficult. I hope you enjoyed seeing me flex my very limited memory of emoticons. Also, I googled secret ingredients for apple pie so if you make one with apple cider syrup and it’s bad, it’s not my fault.

 Also, I’m sorry to all my Ainsley fans; on hour six of writing so she did not get a vignette. (Though there’s totally something to be said for a piece about Ainsley at Halloween.) Sorry that she’s the only main cast member who didn’t get some love. 

Thank you for reading! If you’re someone who is going through holidays without their loved one, I’m sending you hugs, warm blankets, and your favorite beverage. I hope this maybe brought a bit of catharsis or hope. May all of you have a wonderful 2024, full of loved ones, good food, and lots of pleasant surprises. And most importantly, may 2024 bring us the miracle of a season 3!

#psonsecretsanta23 #prodigal son #and I am not tagging all the characters that are in this but they're mostly all there #didn't Tumblr use to have a horizontal line you could put in your text so you don't have to type ----- to separate sections? #did I imagine that? #silence emily #have fun with this; I wrote it in 6 hours with no breaks after thinking about it for at least 2 months #grief man. it's crazy

[codenamejudas]

1, 1, 10, 17

1. Canon I outright reject

~~for my intents and purposes, Silas is very much not dead XD~~

1. Canon I outright reject

~~and neither is the rest of MECH. it's SUCH a shame they squandered the only human villains who genuinely posed a threat to the robots~~

10. Best moment on screen

~~since i get to pretend judas is literally any of the masked agents (minus Lab Coat Larry The Surgeon) at any given time it means he can even be this guy that hits the tree

and really that's the greatest gift i could ask for~~

17. Quotes, songs, poems, etc. that I associate with them

Our Wonderful Lives by Styx

#anotherhumanpet #ask meme #general information

[sobeautifullyobsessed]

Stephen Strange HAND related head canons:

I’ve held these since seeing the first Doctor Strange movie.

Stephen always had talented hands, including a mastery of video games that quickly made his friends give up playing against him until he agreed to use his left hand instead of his dominant hand. His keenly competitive nature meant he still won at least three out of four times.

But those same talented hands showed a genius in his youth to rival the future genius of his surgeon’s hands. 

Beverly Strange was proud of the family heirloom, upright piano that graced the front sitting room of the family farmhouse. It was one of the few things she brought to the marriage from the home of her birth. She played well enough herself, and in lean times, supplemented the family income by giving beginner lessons to the children of local town families. And she gave Stephen his initial lessons--quickly delighting in how he took to it like a duckling to water.

Stephen seemed to have a natural ear, and aided by his eidetic memory, he easily mastered all the pieces she taught him and all sheet music she owned. The first Christmas after she had taught him to play, Beverly ensured that among the meager gifts he’d find under the tree, was a binder full of the simplest of Beethoven’s works. His father, Eugene, perpetually frowned upon Beverly’s indulgence of their son’s impractical hobby--but allowed it so long as it didn’t detract from his farm work and schoolwork. 

As the oldest of three children, Stephen bore the heaviest burden of farm chores, but he did his best to carve out at least a little time every day to practice. Eventually, the school’s Music Teacher noticed his amazing acumen, and did whatever she could to feed his enthusiasm and talent. Between Beverly and his kindly teacher, Stephen found the time and resources needed to continue his progression on the piano.

However, once Stephen discovered a passion for the study of human biology and began to imagine a future as a doctor, he came to the first future-altering juncture of his young life. He had reached the point in his musical studies that he could potentially make a career of it. Even the lofty position of concert pianist was not out of his reach. But he could only dedicate his prodigious mind and dextrous hands to one path if he were to succeed--so that his passion for medicine won out. He never regretted that choice either. Although as soon as he could comfortably afford it, he finally got his own baby grand so that in his downtime he could tickle the ivories whenever the whim came upon him.

@doctorstrangeaskblog​

#Doctor Strange #Stephen Strange #Doctor Strange head canons #Stephen Strange head canons #his beautiful damaged hands #emblematic of his soul's journey #Strangebatch headcanons #Strangebatch head canons #Doctor Strange headcanons #Stephen Strange headcanons

[treewithabark]

Just an unnecessarily long post about dog gear I want- scroll by if you don’t want my ramble

So in feb I’m gonna have a treat yo self month because it be my birthday, and I may have a lil extra spending money from working a bunch of overtime during Christmas (I am knackered but I needed the cash and work needed my assistance)

And seeing as no-one likes buying me dog gear as Christmas/birthday gifts I’m gonna buy myself these nice things.

I wanna get Juno a lovely leather collar, nefjas person sent me a link to a German company who make elk leather collars in a martingale style??? Absolute perfection. I’ve been a sucker for martingales for a couple of years now and am reluctant to turn back.

What a delectable collar. So chic. So stylish. Fancy collar for my non-fancy mutt to strut about the town with (no flooded field walks for that collar)

Gonna pair it with a brand new cute dog tag because Juno currently wears Hana’s old one. I think after a year she’s earned her own tag, don’t you think?

Lookit!!! So cute!! It’s not Juniper tree but it’s close enough (don’t tell my partner, the tree surgeon, I said that). Would look so good with the collar.

And since my mendota lead is looking real ropey (haha, because it’s a rope?) I’m gonna treat myself to a new one. It’s served me so well but I did not look after it. Now it smells and is fraying and the leather by the clasp is loose. It just looks a mess. Love my mendota lead, don’t love that I’ve destroyed it. I did dabble with the idea of an adjustable lead but they’re all flat and I’m sorry but round leads are superior. I’m not ready to go back to flat. Mendota so comfy, mendota so röund, medota have goldish clasp to match tag and collar ring.

But do I stop the spending there?? I’ve been gagging for a ruffwear backpack but my lord £100 for a backpack??? I know it’s quality, built to last, and most importantly designed to minimise injury but it’s a rather frivolous spend.

My reasoning is that added weight to some walks may help reduce some pulling, she’s so much better but still gets excitable. It can be useful if we wanna go on longer hikes once my partner and I have time to do some weekends away. Carrying water etc. I really want to do a camping getaway at some point and having her carry her own food is adorable and practical. But also it could be useful on days where we want or need to be a bit lazier. Dog needs exercising but we’re burned out/ill? Cool, mile and a half sniffy walk with lightly packed backpack. If I wanna tire her out because we have plans and need her nice and calm? Boom, backpack walk.

Also, backpack cute. Backpack could have patches. Backpack bring joy to look at. Backpack make chronically ill days much easier.

Backpack.

Oh there’s also an adorable martingale collar on Etsy that I want. An unnecessary purchase but I so rarely find a martingale I really really like (I’m picky okay)

But there are things that I could spend my money on that is (arguably) needed more. Waterproof longline, new treat pouch, new walking boots because mine are leaky, dog toys that serve a purpose more than “it squeaks and can be thrown”. I also need a haircut and new prescription glasses but it’s more fulfilling to spend money on the dog.

GAH! Maybe I’ll win the lottery on Friday and I can buy it all. But until then I gotta budget and make informed purchases.

Anyway I just wanted to rant to the void because I usually do all this in my head but I wanna get more active on tumblr and sometimes airing these thoughts helps make decisions. And if you suddenly see me posting Juno in 4k completely decked out in new gear in the mountains? I’ve won the lottery, quit work to travel with dog that has a whole new wardrobe, captured on a top of the line point and shoot 😂

#so many things so little money #but also my February paycheque lines up perfectly with rent #long story short the way the dates line up I don’t have to use any of my feb pay to pay rent #a rare but very welcome occurrence #I’m so used to being broke but I can allocate myself a lil bit of spending money to get at least the top three things #but the backpack would be completely frivolous #i do have an Amazon voucher from my mother for Christmas and I could use it to cover some of the cost if I order through there #she doesn’t have to know that I still used Christmas money on dog things #and at this point I’m sure she knows I do it