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#i'm just going to post this now and sleep bc we have one hour left happy juyo day !
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Cold Nights to Sunday Mornings - bradley "rooster" bradshaw x reader
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Summary: 2.1k words. loosely inspired by "Hold My Girl" by George Ezra. (idk what to put for the summary but! pls trust that it's worth your time bc i'm proud of this :) )
Warnings: lots of angst & fluff to redeem the angst
a/n: the fall semester just started & i've been really busy so i'm just as shocked as you are that i'm actually posting a fic. enjoy & please let me know what you think <3
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“Baby, we have to get up,” she pleaded. Bradley ignored her request and wrapped his arms around her midsection tighter.
A soft displeased hum left her lips—though it was mostly in jest. She could never be anything but content in Bradley’s arms. The sound only had the aviator nuzzling his head further against her neck, peppering light kisses across the exposed skin.
---
Before y/n, Bradley never slept in. Rooster was his call sign for a reason. For better or for worse, he had a habit of being up before the sun and the rest of the sane world. 
Sleeping in meant that he was only prolonging the amount of time he spent in bed alone. The barrack beds were uncomfortable and cold. When he’d been promoted and was able to arrange for housing off-base he ran into the same issue. A thousand dollars and a new mattress later, the comfort issue was fixed. He might as well have been sleeping on a damn cloud. But his bed was still cold. And lonely.
Without an alarm clock he rose every morning no later than 5:30 a.m.. Maybe it was because of all his years in the military. Maybe it was the broken teenager inside of him that was always running—from his past, to his future, to find someplace somewhere that he could rest easy—and damn, was that exhausting. Everyone he loved and counted on died suddenly, or abandoned him, or died slowly.
As he got older, he found a little bit of peace. Bradley worked his ass off and earned his successful career. He reconnected with his estranged Godfather. He was reassigned to the same base he spent most of his early childhood at.
He slept better after that. In his mid-thirties, it was about damn time that he was able to relax a bit. Yet still, no amount of blankets warmed up the everpresent unwelcome chill.
---
One morning he had a particularly unpleasant wake-up. At just after 4 in the morning, Bradley woke up drenched in sweat. The nightmares weren’t frequent, but they weren’t uncommon. It came with the territory of being directly involved in combat. He couldn’t go back to sleep–he never could–so he got up. He cleaned his entire house. He watched a movie that he wasn’t paying attention to. He went for a run. He didn’t bother counting the miles, he just ran until he felt better; even though he never really did. When he was done showering, it was finally a socially acceptable hour to call someone.
Bradley’s thumb hovered over Pete’s phone number. Before he could talk himself out of it, he pressed harder than necessary on the screen and winced as the phone rang. After 3 rings Bradley’s tense shoulders deflated. Just before the call went to voicemail, it was picked up with haste. Shuffling could be heard on the other end of the line.
“Hi sweetie!” That’s not Maverick.
“Hey Penny…” he trailed off awkwardly. He was hardly prepared to have a conversation with his godfather, much less his godfather’s girlfriend.
“Mav is out in the hangar right now working on his plane,” Penny explained with a sarcastic air of ‘what else is new?’. There was more shuffling as Penny moved to hold the phone between her shoulder and ear. She had a splatter or two of pancake batter on her manicured hands. Pete would just have to suck it up when he saw the evidence on his phone later.
“I’m making breakfast right now, would you like to come over? I’ll make up a plate for you, hun,” Penny offered sweetly. She was so caught up in putting together her Sunday breakfast feast that she hardly realized she never asked Bradley why he called.
The younger man paused for a moment. He didn’t want to impose, but he really didn’t want to be alone right now.
Pete met Bradley at the front door with a fond smile. Bradley tried his best to return the smile but he wasn’t successful. His lips just looked like they were twisted in pain and there wasn’t much light in his eyes. Maverick’s brow furrowed. He wouldn’t push until the kid was ready to open up, and he had a feeling that wouldn’t be until after he had a plate full of Penny’s famous pancakes.
Amelia all but inhaled her breakfast before she twirled around the house like a mini tornado, grabbing her bag and keys and shouting ‘ThanksforbreakfastI’mgoingtothebeachwithsomefriendsloveyoubye!’ as the door slammed shut behind her. Maverick’s eyebrows raised and Penny just shook her head with a smile.
The older woman subtly watched Bradley clear his plate. She waited until he swallowed his last bite of food and washed it down with orange juice before she rested her soft hand over his white knuckle clenched fist on the table.
“What’s going on, Bradley?” she asked gently. She was careful–like he was a scared animal that might bolt in an instant. Pete leaned in, making sure he was within his godson’s line of sight too. Bradley couldn’t meet either of their eyes. He cleared his throat and was quiet for a moment.
He told them about the nightmare. About the cold sweat, and the cold sheets, and the cold bed, and the cold empty house. Mav’s heart broke. He was trying his best to do right by Goose; he’d just barely managed to repair his relationship with his godson, but he supposed there was only so much he could protect the younger aviator from.
Pete reached across to rest an arm on Bradley’s shoulder. He tensed then relaxed, but didn’t shake off Mav’s hand. Maybe that was a good sign. Penny’s gaze was sympathetic. Bradley rarely opened up to anyone, but he knew Penny was the person to go to when pity would make him nauseous.
“It might be helpful to get some company,” the older, wiser woman suggested and squeezed Bradley’s hand. His fist unclenched a bit. Pete had been mostly silent up until this point. He wasn’t good with emotions, that much was obvious to anyone who’d spent more than half an hour outside of work with the man.
“Company other than one night stands and the stray cats you swear you don’t feed,” Pete remarked. Rooster chuckled. It was the first genuinely positive reaction they’d seen from him this morning. The cats are lovely company, thank you very much, Bradley thought.
---
Bradley tried to get his shit together. He was mostly successful. He officially took in one of the stray cats. He brought him to the vet and made sure his vaccines were up to date and got the poor cat neutered. A cat tree tower took residence next to the backdoor Bradley left cat food out by.
He even tried his hand at gardening. He started a small vegetable garden and did a bit of landscaping. Two months ago he didn’t know which perennials were best suited for California weather, much less how to take care of them. Now he’d installed a carefully timed automatic sprinkler system and even built a tarp over part of the earthy plot to prevent too much sun exposure for some of the more delicate plants.
You have to love yourself before you can love someone else.
Bradley was convinced that phrase was absolute bullshit. Plenty of people were in happy relationships and still went through bouts of being miserable with themselves. Penny tsked Bradley’s pessimism at her bar top. She’d unofficially taken on the role of being his intermittent therapist.
“Bull shit or not, you need to work out some of your own issues before you start dating around,” she said pointedly. She was being pulled in the opposite direction by another bartender that needed her help when she shouted back to Bradley, “Don’t you dare download Tinder, mister!” The exclamation was far too loud for Bradley’s taste, especially when several heads suddenly whipped around to focus on him.
So work out his issues he did. 
He stopped throwing himself into work and ruthless workouts simply for the sake of avoiding his thoughts and being alone. He tried out sitting in silence with his thoughts in his lonely house. He hated it. But he got better at it over time. Goose the cat climbing across his lap and snuggling against his thigh made things better.
Companionship. Mav and Penny were right. He needed someone outside of work. Someone whose life didn’t center around the Navy or planes or beer.
---
y/n wasn’t who he ever imagined ending up with. She didn’t particularly care for the U.S. military-industrial complex. She wasn’t a beer girl and she wasn’t very good at driving. She was afraid of heights so she preferred not to fly when she traveled. Whenever she could drive instead of take a flight, she would—even though she’s admittedly a bad driver.
y/n loved Bradley’s cat. She was a cat and a dog person. She was also a bearded dragon person—something that Bradley did not expect to learn about anyone over the age of 20. Her eyes were filled with wonder when she first laid eyes on his thriving vegetable garden.
y/n was very outdoorsy. She loved nature and the beach, she dragged Bradley out of his cold house more times than he could count. The more time y/n spent at his house, the less cold it felt. She brought Bradley on hikes—he had no idea how many trails and reserves were within driving distance. Bradley always drove.
Their green thumbs linked well together. y/n introduced several cat-safe plants to the interior of Bradley’s home. Every once in a blue moon, the couple would spend time at y/n’s apartment. Her roommate was even less of a fan of the military-industrial complex and it showed. One morning Bradley woke up before y/n so he headed to her kitchen to make them breakfast. Her roommate, Allie, woke up early as well. A not-so-casual conversation ensued (read: scrutinizing questions) about Bradley being ‘“Property of Uncle Sam” over the sound of scrambled eggs sizzling. After that, Bradley suggested they spend more time at his house. It was roomier, he reasoned. y/n snorted. “You just don’t want Allie talking at you at the butt crack of dawn,” y/n corrected. Bradley nodded with tight lips.
Mav and Penny enthusiastically offered to help move y/n into Bradley’s home after the spunky y/h/c accepted his offer with a massive grin and a PG-13 kiss.
Now that Bradley woke up with y/n in his arms every morning, he wasn’t really eager to hop out of bed anymore. He was pretty sure the last time he habitually woke up later than 9 in the morning on weekends was when he was in high school.
---
y/n huffed and leaned back into Bradley’s warm embrace. The man was practically a space heater in bed, but he was her space heater.
She twisted around in his arms with a grin so that they were chest to chest. Bradley’s legs tensed when y/n’s cold feet assaulted his skin.
“We need to go feed Goose,” y/n reasoned, even though she knew full well that Bradley couldn’t be reasoned with when he was comfortable in bed. Comfortable and bed were two words that weren’t associated with each other for quite a long time for Bradley.
“He can starve for a bit,” he mumbled without opening his eyes. y/n gasped and swatted his arm. The corner of his lip twitched into a grin as he leaned forward to blindly press a kiss to y/n’s face. 
“You have morning breath, Brad,” she wrinkled her nose. He squinted one eye open and stuck his tongue out at y/n. She rolled her eyes but she too snuggled further into his warm embrace. 20 minutes or so passed by. y/n was falling in and out of almost asleep, and she was ready to get the day going.
She squirmed in Bradley’s arms again.
“Bradleyyy,” she groaned, feeling antsy. The aviator shook his head with a smile. For the first time all morning, he cracked his eyes open. The light streaming through the window highlighted the flecks of gold in his beautiful big brown eyes and y/n forgot what she was going to say.
“Shhh, five more minutes” he hushed softly and pressed a kiss to y/n’s nose, a content smile on his face.
“Give me a minute to hold my girl.”
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bucksangel · 1 month
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angel ik it’s about 12 hours later since you posted about being bored and wanting some asks, but i’ve just woken up and am just imagining how it would feel waking up next to bucky, him trying to pull you back into bed with “come back to bed doll, it’s too early to get up” as he basically drags you into him so he can have you in his arms again. (can you tell i want a bucky to stop me from going to work by basically suffocating me in his arms) 🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏
ok ok but same?? i just woke up and thank GOD i don't have to work today bc if i did and had a bucky in my bed i'd be forced to call out bc there's no way i'm gonna pass up the opportunity to get squished to death between those arms
and now you've given me inspo so here you go <3 (this is also the shortest thing i've ever written it feels weird)
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Just One More
pairing: bucky barnes x reader
word count: 828
warnings: fluff fluff fluff, kissing and smooching, that's it i think
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Everything is soft, warm, and hazy, it’s almost like being wrapped in the morning sun's rays as you float across the sky on a cloud. True peace exists only at this moment; Bucky’s arms are wrapped around your body, sleeping with his head on your chest while you run your fingers through his hair, absentmindedly kissing the top of his head.
But then your damn alarm decides to go off louder than ever - the alarm’s tone doesn’t change, it just always seems to be louder whenever you’re too comfortable to get out of bed. And dear Lord you don’t want to. You want to stay right here all day, only getting up to eat or use the bathroom. Other than that, you’d be adamant that neither of you were to leave your little bubble of love.
You’re nearly unable to reach your phone due to Bucky lying almost fully on top of you, but you manage to snag it before the alarm gives him a rude wake-up. Upon stopping it, you drop your phone on the pillow next to you, wrapping your arm around Bucky’s back again to rub up and down in a soothing motion. He stirs under your touch, rubbing his face into your chest like he’s a cat burrowing into a blanket, hiding from the world in the hopes of being allowed a few more minutes of sleep.
He groans when you laugh, your fingernails scratching at his scalp.
“Honey?” You whisper softly, kissing his forehead. “Baby, come on, we have to get up.”
“No,” he grunts, blindly reaching up one of his arms so he can cover your eyes with his hand. “Go back to sleep.”
You can’t help but laugh a little louder, especially when Bucky starts grumbling about needing his beauty sleep.
“You’re beautiful enough,” you say with a smile, grabbing his wrist and pulling his hand off of your face so you can kiss his palm. “We need to get ready.”
Huffing, Bucky lifts his head, blinking several times before giving you a look so mean that others might be afraid, but it only makes you giggle harder. He’s such a baby. And it’s absolutely impossible not to kiss that pout off of his face, so you do. You press a soft, lingering kiss to his plush lips until he stops his whining and leans into it. But then you pull away, and Bucky pouts again.
“You’re going to wake me up and only give me one kiss?” He huffs again as he lifts himself off of your body so he can hover over you, one hand planted next to your head while the other grabs your left hand, threading your fingers together and bringing them up to his mouth so he can kiss your knuckles. “You know I’m going to need at least three more before I can even consider letting you out of this bed.”
“Three?” You ask with a laugh, using your free hand to cup his cheek. “How about two?”
“Four,” He grunts, eyes squinting.
“One?”
“Now that’s just rude!” Bucky exclaims as he pulls further back so he can truly look at you so incredulously that you can’t help but laugh again. “One kiss isn’t good enough. I need five.”
“Oh, now it’s five kisses?” Your giggling continues when he nods, dipping down to steal one. “How about this: I give you four more kisses and then we get up and get ready. Then I’ll give you another five kisses before we leave. Deal?”
Bucky sighs, knowing he’s lost this battle. Damn you and your tempting lips.
“Fine,” He grumbles, leaning down again.
With each kiss he gives you, you mumble one, two, three. But the final kiss gets a little more heated. His tongue slips through your lips and into your mouth, neither of you caring about the fact that you haven’t brushed your teeth yet. How can you when the man you love is so adamant about showing his affection for you that he gets genuinely upset when he can’t even hold your hand?
Before you lose yourself too far in the kiss, you pull away breathlessly. “Four.”
Bucky sighs, pulling away and rolling off your body. He gives you his best puppy dog eyes while you sit up and stretch, letting the blanket fall into your lap. It’s just as you move to get out of bed when he grabs your wrist again.
“Baby,” He says, causing you to turn and look at him with a playfully raised eyebrow. “Just one more?”
He smiles when you roll your eyes because just like he can never say no to you, he knows that you’d never deny him of anything that makes him happy. One final time, you lean over and kiss him, pulling away almost immediately so he can’t wrap his arms around you - because then you know you’d never leave the bed.
“Now, come on. We can’t be late to our own wedding.”
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talaok · 6 months
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Hey, I have this huge exam next week, it’s the biggest exam of my life so far and I’m stressed af. I consider myself a chill person but I’m feeling beyond anxious all the time and I have never felt this stressed in my life. It’s so hard to take care of myself rn like I don’t feel like eating but I have to because I’m nauseous and then I can’t find anything I’d like to eat and it makes me more anxious IT’S A VICIOUS CYCLE I SWEAR AND APPARENTLY I HAVE TO EAT EVERY FOUR HOURS EVERY DAY BC I’M A HUMAN??
anyway, sorry for oversharing. I was gonna ask if you could write sth with pedro taking care of stressed reader, making sure she eats and is hydrated, filing up her coffee, cuddling with her when she has crying sessions wiping her tears and telling her everything’s gonna be okay and he’s gonna be there for her with every step no matter what. I literally crave comfort right now, and I’d be so grateful if you could write something 🥹
I love how caring and kind you are with asks, thank you so so so much for being here. Love you 💕💕💕💕
pairing: Pedro pascal x reader
a/n: Im so so sorry love, im one hundred percent sure youll do great, but in the meantime, i hope this will make you feel a little bit better, love you💗💗 (this ask did skip the line bc if i posted it two weeks from now it wouldn't have made any sense)
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He didn't know how or when, but all of a sudden, all you did was study.
And at first, he didn't really think anything of it, you'd told him about the exam and about how important it was, so he understood, but what he didn't expect, was just how much you'd be studying.
You raised your head only to answer him, and even when you did, it was monosyllabic.
"Have you eaten anything?"
"no"
"did you drink any water today?"
"not really"
And no matter how many times he'd tell you how bad for you that was, the next time he asked, the answers were always the same. And that's exactly why by the second day, he had stopped asking and instead, started doing.
He had conceived a whole plan of attack.
For the days when he, unfortunately, had to go to work, he left two full water bottles and a glass on your desk, and an already cooked lunch in the fridge, so that all you needed to do was heat it up in the microwave.
But on the days when he didn't have to go to work, he took it upon himself to become your personal assistant, and your worst nightmare altogether.
No matter how much you complained, he forced you to take a break at least every two hours, he made sure you were drinking the water he poured into your glass, he made you coffee every time you asked, (always only after having reminded you that you didn't need more coffee but more sleep) and finally, he cooked or ordered all of your favorite foods in the hopes that it would make you feel more like eating (which never seemed to work).
Today, thankfully, he got to stay home, so for the thousand time, he walked into the studio to check in on you.
"hey there" he smiled, watching you half-heartedly wave at him before returning your full attention to your book "I brought you a snack," he said, placing the apple slices on your desk and making a soft laugh flee your mouth.
He had turned into a soccer mom, but god it felt good to hear you laugh again.
He got behind you to start gently massaging what he was sure must have been sore shoulders.
"how's it going?"
"bad" you grumbled, relaxing the tiniest bit at his touch
"I'm sorry" he murmured, leaning down to kiss the crown of your head "you wanna take a break?"
"It's not been two hours yet"
"I know, but I think it would be good for you" he explained "We could take a walk maybe"
You sighed, closing your eyes "I can't"
"sweetheart" he cooed, crouching down to be at your level and turning your chair towards him "you're gonna burn yourself out if you continue like this"
"I know but..." you glanced back at your notes "I can't fail this exam"
"and you're not gonna" he immediately reassured you
He watched something happen behind your eyes, 
"not if I keep taking breaks"
"baby-" he murmured, taking your hand in his and watching as your mouth curved downwards for the quickest moment 
"I just-I'm so anxious," you said, your voice breaking "I-I can't fail- I just can't"
"hey hey hey" he cooed, his eyes looking for yours "Sweetheart, it's ok"
And that was the moment you couldn't hold it anymore, all the stress and fear you'd been bottling up for days started spilling from your eyes.
"n-no it's not, I-I... I don't even know, I just..." you sobbed, and when you looked at him, he swore he heard his heart break " I feel like shit"
"sugar..." he murmured, wasting no time wrapping his arms around you "I'm so sorry baby," he spoke gently to your ear as his hands stroked your hair and back 
You hid your face in his chest as you cried all you had to cry.
"it's all gonna be alright sweetheart, I promise"
But at that, for some reason, you only started to cry harder.
"ok this is it, hold onto me"
And you had just the time to frown, before he had picked you up and walked out of the room and into the living room.
"w-what are you doing?"
"forcing you to take a break"
"I could have walked" A small smile appeared on your lips, and with it, a small wave of relief washed over Pedro's body.
"You've done enough today" he explained, sitting down on the couch with you, and in less than a moment, your whole body had clung to his.
Your left leg was draped over his, and your head was on his chest, as he held you close with both his arms.
"y/n, you're not gonna fail" he started gently "You're the smartest person I've ever met"
"That's not true" you muttered, your words muffled by his body
"yes it is" he insisted "And baby I promise you, that everything is gonna be alright" he swore, slowly running a hand through your hair "and that no matter what, I'm gonna be here for you, ok?"
It took a moment for you to respond, but after a few beats of silence, a muffled "ok" made its way to Pedro's ears.
"yeah?" he asked, again, encouraging you to meet his gaze.
"yeah" you sniffled, as you finally looked up
"Feeling better?"
"yes" you nodded "Thank you"
He tightened his hug, as he bent down, to ghost your mouth "I love you baby" he kissed you "Whatever you need, I'm always gonna be here for you"
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gracefall-mcyt · 1 month
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...SO. Hermitcraft Lifeline AU trailer I made for a class last semester.
Does contain spoilers but they're left vague-ish? Vague enough that I don't think it spoils the experience at all. Go read SlashMagpie's Lifeline AU. Please.
Now crossposted to Youtube!
Notes about stuff under the cut :)
Okay so. I know there are some inaccuracies to the actual fic, major and minor alike. However, this took me around 60 hours to make, and I wasn't able to work on anything else in between because of my deadline. I am not going back to fix things now. I spent the entire latter half of my winter break pretty much just working on this, because, like I said, I was doing it for an assignment.
It was a film studies class, and we had to create a pretend cult classic and then create some creative representation of it. I chose to do an adaptation of Lifeline AU for mine! That's why there are the black frames near the start–originally there was some pretty typical movie trailer text, I just didn't feel like including it here.
I'm going to be real, I would not have been able to get through that project if I wasn't doing it with LLAU. Lifeline AU was my lifeline, in a way. If I had stuck with my original plan, then I wouldn't have come up with such a GOOD final product. I probably would have quit the trailer and settled for a poster. With this, that never crossed my mind. I wound up with a product that I had genuine creative passion for, based on a story that I have immense love for.
@slashmagpie , thank you so much for writing this fic. I have said it before and I will say it again; this is my favourite thing I have ever read. Between its plot, characterization, worldbuilding... EVERYTHING. It's such a beautiful story. It's one of few works to actually make me think, to make me consider what's right and wrong, in a sense. Every time I reread it, even if it's just a small little section (or all of Asking for a Miracle. I'd say that that one has the biggest chokehold on me of the llau fics), I feel myself experiencing the fic all over again.
Going to be honest, I wasn't going into LLAU with any expectations. I found Lost Boys bc i was looking for fics with aliens, and so i decided Empty Oceans would be my "last fic before sleep." I ended up not sleeping that night, spending the next few hours reading through all of the series (aside from Twenty-Eight Days of Delirium, but I did go back to that one later that day), listening to the same song on loop the entire time. I was so engrossed by the story I didn't even notice until I was halfway through Asking for a Miracle.
I rambled on about the fic to anyone who would listen. My best friend, my cousin, my younger brothers, my older sibling, everyone. Eventually, when one day my cousin came over to have a sleepover, I was like. I know you're not going to read it. Would you like me to tell it to you? And she said yes. I expected it to take maybe a half hour. She expected it to take one hour. It ended up taking two and a half. By the end, she said "this sounds like it would make a great movie", so we ended up writing out the script for the very trailer you see above.
My cousin is actually the one who drew the beautiful clock seen at the beginning and on the monks' robes! She gave me permission to use it. I would tag her, but she doesn't have any public social media accounts.
At some point I'll come back and list all the small details, bc I put in quite a few, but for now I'm tired of typing up this post so you'll have to wait :)
Song used is Imaginary Worlds by Tyler K
I forgot where exactly I got the clock ticking sound effect but I will try to find it and link it eventually.
As stated before, this is entirely based on Lifeline AU by SlashMagpie. Go read it if you haven't already, I'm begging you.
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emry-stars-art · 2 months
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Oooh do go on about raven neil and jean 👀 (if you’re so inclined ☺️) - @neil-jostenminyard
*chanting* raven Neil raven Neil raven Neil (and lots of Jean) (quite possibly even jeaneil) (although most of the thoughts are post-ravens lol)
So my personal thoughts about this are also mostly thanks to chats and inspiration/prompting from @jtl-fics and @greenautumnleaves so if you see any additions from them on this post it's most likely also thoughts I adore lol
Anyway this got kind of long so:
I ALSO latched onto Sakavic's statement that Neil wouldn't leave Jean in the nest bc yeah it makes sense and also ow
But just the two of them being partnered up like Riko and Kevin as is common in these aus, and then after Kevin gets out first, they have to stick together and rely on each other even MORE because Riko is pissed that Kevin is gone and probably takes it out on the next closest two idk
But in our imaginings, Renee or Andrew get Jean out quicker than in canon, again because Neil would refuse to leave Jean behind and I can only imagine he'd go so far as to trick or manipulate Jean into leaving. Maybe by being at a certain place at a certain time to get picked up, however he can make it happen. But the issue we run into is that once that's done, what the hell would Neil have left at Evermore, besides Exy that maybe he still loves deep down. But Exy's been so warped being raised on it at the nest that at that point his obsession is barely recognizable.
Kevin might recognize this, because he knew Neil in the nest. Or at least he knew the person that Neil presented himself as. But it's probably more likely that Jean recognizes this, and yeah things are super rocky and weird but Jean can barely even function without Neil. So back a fox goes to rescue their second raven's partner.
They bring Neil back to Palmetto and he and Jean are completely inseparable. Emotionally and physically. Neither of them act like, feel like, or even call themselves "touchy feely" or "clingy" people but as soon as Neil is treated for various intense and mysterious injuries, they're curled up in some hidden place for hours. Even the short time having left Neil behind made Jean almost too anxious to leave his room. Even the short time without Jean - now with more punishment for aiding Jean's escape - was enough for Neil to consider something drastic.
(side note: Andrew now has not one, not two, but three gorgeous tragic boys under his supervision and I'm sure he's handling that totally normally lmao. But it's so obvious to him that Jean and Neil have something going on that any ideas for himself aren't worth entertaining.)
So it's a little easier to ease out of various habits and thought processes because Jean and Neil are doing it together, with outside help. They fix their sleep cycles/rhythms, try a slightly more normal college diet, and most slowly lose their "win or die" mindset in practices. They're still never seen without each other - Wymack had a talk with some of the school board about their schedules and dorm arrangements for the first semester. In reality, he's not sure if he should have them go cold turkey on raven habits or if he should take it slower, but he's doing his damn best to get these boys adjusted to life outside a cult. And Neil and Jean, whether or not they actively realize it, find that step to be the one they absolutely cannot take. Why would they go through the agony of learning to live separately if they don't have to. When no one else understands them like the other, when they've already seen each other's worst so nothing else is worth keeping secret between them. Who else is Jean going to go to when having a better life makes him feel like he more deserves death or punishment and the guilt hits him so hard he can't breathe, much less sleep. Who else is Neil going to go to when he can't let go of his birthright - if he isn't good at what he does (Exy) he literally could just be shot like a lame horse - and he's not allowed to go practice Exy against a wall to the point of tearing himself apart anymore so he forces his feet away from the court to find the only person he knows he'll listen to when they say no.
Kevin, of course, is keeping a close eye on the two, whether unintentionally or on purpose is unclear. Neil still has a mouth on him, he sometimes plays mind games with the foxes like chess against himself, and most of all does not allow anyone to get too close to Jean. Jean is still quiet, having learned not only to take a punishment without resistance but also that Neil will speak first. Neil will resist so Jean doesn't have to. He's safer in Neil's shadow.
Maybe it's a phrase or warning that Neil uses and that Kevin recognizes. Maybe it's a gesture between Neil and Jean that Kevin oversees. Maybe it's just the general demeanor of the two. But whatever it is is familiar to Kevin, not in a "I remember this from them in the nest" way. He can recognize by now that Riko was not good to him, he can acknowledge it even if the rest of him hasn't caught up. He looks at Jean in Neil's shadow and remembers himself in Riko's.
As if Butcher's son Nathaniel Wesninski wasn't already scary enough on his own.
But Kevin won't allow this kind of thing on his court, and he's not good at it but he is still trying to let go of unhealthy raven ideals. If Neil is holding onto some fucked up dynamic, Kevin is going to put a stop to it.
He pulls Jean aside, a miraculous feat. He asks what Neil has done.
"Mistake" might be an understatement.
It could very easily be the longest string of words Jean has said to anyone besides Neil. Kevin doesn't know near as much French as he does in canon - Neil is the one that shares that secret defiance - so it's all clear English, Jean making sure Kevin understands every word. Kevin should never speak about Neil that way again. He knows nothing about them, he shouldn't so much as pretend to understand Neil. Neil is the only good thing that ever happened to Jean. Kevin never cared enough to bring it up in the nest, so he has no right to start caring now.
It isn't great for their already tumultuous relationship. Kevin wonders for a bit if Jean would tell Neil about it - then next practice Neil doesn't even try to work with Kevin, even after the two had made it a point as strikers to figure out how to. He ignores the other strikers entirely, falling immediately and seamlessly into perfect synch with Jean behind him, speaking hardly a word of English the whole practice. Because he knows that will make Kevin even more angry than Neil being actively hostile to his new teammates.
Kevin isn't sure what he was expecting. Chances are Jean hadn't even needed to bring it up for Neil to notice something was off.
As for Andrew, I think he could still pick up a game of truths. He'd need to offer a similar deal as he did for canon Neil, this time for Neil-and-Jean, the entity of the two of them together. I think he could ensure some cooperation by saying he won't force Jean and Neil apart from each other the way some others have muttered about doing. Even if Neil knows by now the codependence isn't healthy, neither of them are ready to give it up.
It probably really throws Andrew to hear that they don't consider themselves to be an item. They're together, sure, but for a raven that doesn't always, maybe even rarely, means "in a traditional relationship". Neil and Jean definitely never offer any clarification. That's no one else's business, even if they could explain it so that a non-raven could understand. Generally I feel like if this is an andreil universe, it's an even longer, stranger, more winding road to get there than in canon.
I'm almost CERTAIN there's more Im forgetting about rn but this has been my taster on raven Neil+Jean, I hope it was at least a little bit coherent, and greenautumnleaves - I hope this comes anywhere close to your galaxy brain ideas on these two lol. Maybe I'll be back with other thoughts later who knows
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peach-and-bugs · 11 months
Note
Hi, I hope you are well, I fell in love with Nat's one-shot, so I was encouraged to ask for a request, well there are two that come to my head with different characters.
"Wow, you really never got out of your angsty teenage stage, did you?" with Teen Shauna (sorry it's just that you see those eyes and they bring back a lot of melancholy).
"Please tell me you didn't hold on to that all these years" with Lottie (1996) and Lottie (2021). I think with this one you can play with flashbacks of seeing what happened in the desert and their relationship in that timeline in 1996 as a reunion in 2021 somewhat angsty.
Sorry the request is so long, although I would like to add that I can imagine both requests with f reader, anyway thank you very much for everything, take your time and take care of yourself. ❤️
💚Flower stems for heartstrings - Lottie Matthews (1996 & 2021) x fem!Reader💚
Fanfiction master list
disclaimer: don't repost my work. I only post on Tumblr and on Ao3. anything else is stolen and should be removed immediately
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Summary: y/n finds evidence of her teenage best friend (and secret crush) being alive after all, and a possible way of finding her thanks to modern internet and goes on a personal quest to find her and the truth, all while reminiscing about their teen years...
Warnings: Internalized homophobia, fem reader that dresses both "masc" and "fem", underage drinking and smoking weed, extremely angst but with a good ending
Word Count: 8,758
A/N: woohoo! We've surpassed word count on my longest oneshot with this fic, the record previously being 6,990. And ngl, this might be one of my favorites to date! Lottie is an extra special gal who deserves an extra long one-shot, so of course I'm going to give her extra attention. What can I say, I'm not immune to favoritism. This one was actually so fun! I loved getting to write about excited, young (and medicated, let's be fr) Lottie bc I think we forget just how much the wilderness took a toll on her. She was so lively before, it makes me so sad. But, I hope I was able to give her a little bit of that liveliness back in this fic! I think in the request "desert" was supposed to be wilderness, but I wanted to have the reader be left behind, which adds a whole different kind of angst to the situation. As always, feel free to leave questions or comments in my comments or ask box, and happy reading!💚
Lottie Matthews Tag List:
General Tag List: @summergeezburr
-💚-
You’d only ever felt the way you did now only twice before in your life. Once when word got around that flight 2525 had mysteriously gone down in flames with no trace, and once again when you learned she’s been shipped off to god knows where for some kind of treatment. You hadn’t even gotten to say goodbye to her then and she was gone. 
It was a sickly green feeling that had you kneeling over with weak knees and a stone throat. Lottie Matthews, the girl you’d had your heart set on for all of these years, wasn’t gone. She wasn’t locked away or dead like gossip has always said. She was alive and well and looked like she was thriving. And how did you find this out? Through Instagram, of course. That might have been the worst part of all of this. 
One minute you’re mindlessly scrolling through your feed when an ad for a farmers market in some part of upstate New York, rather than New Jersey where you resided. But the ad featured a booth selling honey, and low and behold, there she was. Well, the photo didn’t give a clear picture of her face, but you refused to deny that it was her, despite how it made you sick. How could you forget that smile of hers after all? 
You had to put your phone away after that, but it didn’t help you sleep. A few hours into staring up at the ceiling, restless with gnawing curiosity, you decided sleep wouldn’t come till you found an answer. Rather spontaneously you packed a bag and got into your car. Was this the smartest thing to do? Hell no, but you had the weekend off for work anyways, and nothing stopped you from going, so you drove through the nightstand into the morning and drove by coffee, a podcast, and the straining urge that you needed to know what was going on.
-💚-
At some point in the night, you found your mind wandering as your eyes trained on the empty highway before you, highlighted by your headlights. You reminisce a time long before, even more than 25 years ago. Back when you had been a freshman in high school during your lunch period. You moved to Wiskayok, New Jersey late in the year, giving you an even later start to your first year of high school. You’d relatively been left alone and had decided you'd be alright with that. Not everyone can have friends right? So, alone you sat outside on the school's field, picking at the grass underfoot having already finished your lunch. 
Some students around you sat on the track or the stadium's bleachers with their friends, enjoying company and comradery or whatever and you didn’t like to admit how it made you jealous. But what was there for you to do to change it? You refused to look desperate and walk up to random groups of people who would probably talk about how lame you are behind your back-
“Hey, you alright?” the sudden voice in your direction yanked you out of your self-deprecating thoughts. Looking up you had to squint your eyes to try and make out who was talking to you as the sun shone in your eyes till they tilted their head, blocking it. After some adjustment from the sunspots in your eyes, you were greeted with a shy yet warm smile. 
“Um, yeah, I’m fine,” you uttered awkwardly, swallowing the frog in your throat that had your voice croaking. The girl chuckled and tottered down to the ground to sit beside you in the grass. She dressed well, was one of the first things you noticed. Her pink skirt and tall white socks were very countering to your grass-stained jeans, scuffed hightops, and t-shirt. 
“You sure, because you’re all by yourself,” she said rather matter of factly. 
“Well, maybe I like being alone. Think of that,” she arched her brow curiously. “And as far as I know you’re alone too,” she chuckled again with a little huff. 
“Tuche,” was all she replied, but she had a stupidly shiny grin on her face. Next, she reached out her hand to shake. “I’m Charlotte, by the way. But most people call me Lottie,” you hesitated for a standing moment, only staring at her hand as you kept yours loosely wrapped around your knees till you gave in, shaking her hand in greeting. 
“I’m y/n,” 
“Well y/n, tell me about yourself,” she spent the rest of that lunch period at your side, asking questions about you in exchange for the little tidbits you were willing to give her. It was so strange, looking back now, how a because girl decided you looked lonely you'd be driving to upstate New York on a random Thursday night due to your desperation to find her again. 
Lottie had always been charismatic. She liked people. She looked at them like puzzles made special for her to figure out. Maybe that was her way of avoiding herself, or maybe she just had a natural curiosity for those she didn’t understand. But from that day on, she hadn’t left you alone. She’d excitedly greet you in the halls, and invite you out with her friends and to late-night parties. She was the one who integrated you into the community and helped you find a place. 
But she also became your best friend. However, you struggled to feel like you were hers sometimes. She was so bright and colorful, full of life and boy was she popular. She always had someone with her, unless she found the time for you exclusively, which dwindled more and more as high school progressed. Of course, this is a concern you could talk to her about but you didn’t want to bother. In truth, you feared your feelings were driven by selfishness. You thought you'd never voice it, but oh, how you undoubtedly adored Lottie Matthews. 
You felt her encase you when she was close and her laugh was enough to have you swooning. You thrived in her presence and basked in the littlest bit of attention she may offer you. Her touch was electrifying and when she grabbed your hand when she greeted you you felt what had to be magic. But of course, you could never tell. Sure, you knew you were gay and you were so fortunate that you’re mother said it was ok, but you’d never tell, ever. Even if the ache felt like it was squeezing you, you couldn’t lose Lottie. You didn’t want to scare her away and be a freak. 
Part of you wonders if that’s why you'd lost Lottie after all. You hadn’t been honest with her. No, that wasn’t rational. A secret didn’t take down an airplane. 
-💚-
You didn’t arrive till mid-afternoon, late morning, the sun high above as you made your way towards this market. They had their location posted online, so with a quick search and an input to your mapping app you were all set to go. Moments like that reminded you of how on your road trips with your mother growing up she'd have you read the map in the passenger's seat beside her, your finger tailing over the highways towards the little star sticker added on to be your final destination. Strange how so little time felt like it had passed since then yet a whole life as well.
Venders had been set up for some time now and enjoying the comfortable air as they mingled and shopped. You hooked a tote bag over your shoulder to look less conspicuous (although there inherently isn’t anything conspicuous about a middle-aged queer woman at a farmers market, still. You felt a need to keep a low profile). You wandered for some time, looking for a stall that said something like sunset honey, or maybe it was sunnyside. Something involving both the sun and honey, and it looked like the people working wore a lot of purples. 
Honestly, it was a very nice market in itself. Had you had ulterior motives for attending you would have quite enjoyed it. That is still you grew distracted by a florist’s stand. The owner had lovely premade bouquets that ranged in a variety of colors and sizes, but what caught your eye where the assortment of white and pastel metal buckets housing small assortments of different flowers, meant to be starters for gardening. In particular stood out the small purple flowers known for growing naturally back home, in Wiskayok. You tentatively reached out to stroke the petals. 
You hadn’t formally been invited to the party, but it was one of those words get around kind of things, she no one was actually invited, right? At least, that's what you'd told yourself as you got ready in your room, obsessively messing with your hair in the mirror. It was one of those beer-guzzling bonfire things that the seniors hosted on the outskirts of the woods now and then. This time, however, the justification was the girl's soccer team going to nationals, and after the whole pep rally earlier in the day, it did sound justified. 
You pulled back from the mirror to look back down at your clothes. You'd layered a black plaid dress with thin straps over a white sweater that’s sleeves cut off just below your elbow with tights and docs. You tugged at your coller, attempting not to grimace. Sure, you liked dressing feminine now and then, but when it came to events like this you couldn’t help the anxiety, especially with drunk boys. But still, you wanted to look nice, even if the drinks being served were from a beer keg. It just felt like one of those nights, you figured. You sighed and forced yourself to leave as there was a car horn honking outside, grabbing your backpack along the way as you went. It’d be good to have a quick getaway available to you if need be. 
“Have fun, hun! Make good choices for me, ok?” your mom called to you from the couch, watching one of her late-night shows while sipping tea and crocheting something as you went downstairs. You smiled, walked up beside her at the end of the couch, and kissed her forehead. 
“I will, mama, I promise,” you forced a tiny smile. She hummed her thanks and smiled, opening her eyes to take a look at you.
“Show me this little number you assembled for me,” she said, taking off her eyeglasses and gesturing up and down with her crochet hook as she readjusted in her seat to get a better view. You stretched out an arm, the other firmly holding your backpack to your shoulder, and did a turn around for her. She smiled wide and gave you playful applause. 
“Cute! And do you like it? Everything fits well?” 
“Yes, Mom, I promise,” you sighed, trying to refrain from rolling your eyes. It was a new dress you hadn’t worn yet and you knew she was only doing the classic mom routine but you had to go!
“Alright, you go have fun. And tell your friend Charlotte good luck at nationals!” she called after you as you shut the door front door and locked it. You turned, illuminated by your porchlight, and waved to your ride. Van had the passenger window of Taisa’s car down and she waved back with a confident grin on her face. You could hear Depeche Mode playing on the radio as you approached the car. You opened the door and slid inside with a quick smile. 
“Thanks for the ride, Taissa,” you said, trying not to sound as shy as you felt. She smiled in the rearview mirror, checking her surroundings as she turned down the radio. 
“Yeah, no problem girl,” she said with effortless confidence. You didn’t know Taissa or Van, or much of the school's soccer team all that well, but in your mutual connection to Lottie over the past four years you’d tagged along with them quite often and they’d always been nice to you.
“We couldn’t say no after Lottie was so adamant we were nice,” Van joked quite loudly to Taissa, giving you an up and down with that grin again. You stared for a second, unsure of what she was trying to imply till Taissa smacked the goalie in the arm with the back of her hand, hissing her name to make her shut up as she started driving. The redhead let out an undignified yelp.
“She’s being an asshole. And confusing. Lottie wanted you to come and she knew we’d be the best people to pick you up is all,” you still had a confused look on your face, your shoulders hunched inward. 
“Um ok, thanks?” you said it more like a question. 
“What she means, is that we like you. And we’ll tell you we like you,” Van chimed in again. She wasn’t as helpful to you as she thought she was.
“Right, ok. Is there something else going on that I’m not cluing in on?” Tai and Van shared a knowing look. 
“Ok, so the other day Lot kept going on about how she worries that you don’t feel like we’re all friends, and doesn’t want you to feel like you’re just her other friend that tags along, ya know? So we figured we pick you up and tell you that, because some of the other girls on the team aren't the best at communicating, ya know?”
“Oh. So we're friends?” you sounded far more surprised and eager than you would have wanted to. “And Lottie told you all that? About me, I mean?” Van grinned once more, fully turning around in her seat. 
“Yeah, dude! I think you’re really cool actually!” you began to smile more than before and leaned back, straightening up your posture. 
“And, yes, Lot had all that to say and more,” Tai added on. You were thankful for the dark car hiding any color that might have rushed to your face. 
“She talks about you all the time,” Van blabbed on. Tai gave her a look that told the goalie to keep quiet now. Just as she did you pulled up to another house in the neighborhood that has Lottie sitting on the front porch. She shot up when she saw the car but took a last-minute look at the front door like she was waiting for something. Van maneuvered in her seat to hang out the window. “Hurry up slowpoke or we’ll be late to our party,” Lottie all but yelped and ran to the car after that, toward your side of the car. 
You didn’t have enough time to move out of the way and before you knew it Lottie had flung the door open with an exhilarated grin, laughing as she climbed in over your lap to collapse in the seat beside you in the back. She’d picked to wear all pink, which was just so fitting for her. You noticed in particular that she was wearing one of her shorter skirts that she giggled to you about hiding from her mother. 
“Shut the door and go!” she said through giggles, and once you had the time to process what was happening you did just that, closing the now-opened door to your right, and Taissa was off. Lottie lunged forward in her seat and punched Van in the shoulder, laughing all the while. “God, fuck you! I could have been caught because of that,” she griped as Van dramatically clutched her arm. 
“Ugh, what’s with beating on the goalie tonight? I gotta stay fit for nationals and I’ll be covered in bruises at this rate,” 
“Whatever. You’re always covered in bruises, and not all of them are from soccer,” Lottie implied, her hands gripping Taissa’s headrest in front of her so she could lean forward and talk to the two girls up front. That is till she scooted back to give you her full attention. 
“Well, you’re liking fine as hell tonight hot stuff! Have you been hiding this little number?” Lottie asked, reaching out to touch the material of the dress you were wearing along your leg. You managed to force a laugh and playfully swatter her hand away with shifty eye contact. 
“It’s new. My mom got it for me during our last mall trip. She wanted me to expand my wardrobe or whatever,” you played off causally. Lottie gave you a knowing smile and sighed as she turned to look out the window. 
“I think it looks great, just like you always do,” she murmured rather quietly. You weren't even sure you were supposed to hear her. Not long after Tai parked and you all got out of the car. Van yelled something at the crowd that had already gotten things started and there was a low collection of howling and yelling in response to her. Lottie got out of the car before you but stopped and waited by your door for you to get out with her. She said nothing but had that perky smile on the whole time as she watched you expectantly.
“So, whatcha wanna do?” you asked. She shrugged. 
“I dunno. Maybe get reeeeeally drunk,” she toyed, reaching out to take your hand like it had become second nature. Tai walked up to the two of you from the driver seat of the car, double-checking as she locked it shut and shoved her keys in her jacket pocket. She made a purposefully obvious glance down at your entwined fingers then back up to Lottie.
“Careful Lot, people might talk,” she said with what Lottie took as a comfortable coolness but it sent a shiver down your back that caused you to think about pulling away. 
“Pfft! I don't give a flying fuck! Let them talk!” she announced quite loudly, leaning forward with her free hand on her hip. She turned her gaze back to you and wiggled her brows as she grinned. “Come on. Get a drink with me,” she urged, tugging you away from Taissa. 
“Don’t listen to her. No one is looking, and if they are they don’t care. What’s wrong with holding hands anyway?” Lottie babbled on as she pulled you in line for a beer with her. She was still holding onto your hand quite tight as she jumped into rambling about something related to her French class. Maybe a recent test? You weren't exactly sure. Despite everything she’d said before, it felt like everyone was looking, but not because of you. Because of Lottie. She was the pretty, popular girl while you were just the weirdo she hung around. With that idea in your head, it was pretty hard to not be self-continuous. You were so in your head that you didn’t notice her shoving a beer in your hand. 
“Wha- oh, thanks,” you stuttered. You'd let go of her hand to get your drink, opting to use both hands to hold it. Lottie frowned as she was handed her drink ans thanked the guy passing them out. 
“Hey, you alright? Lost you for a sec,” she murmured. She’d become so gentle all of a sudden. Were you really that fragile? She forced a smile and nodded.
“Yeah, I'm great. Just haven't gotten into the party mood yet, I guess,” 
“Oh, ok. Do you wanna step away, clear your head a bit?” you shook your head no. 
“Nah, I'm good. I’m just gonna grab something from my bag in Tai’s car, ok?” Lottie tilted her head, almost like she was trying to look at you from a new angle. 
“I can go with you,” she offered. God, why did she have to be so attentive and sweet?
“I promise I’ll be fine-” you started only for a distraction to catch your eye. “Hey, Shauna and Jackie are over that way. I’ll meet up with you when I’m done,” you offered, dialing up that chipper tone as high as you could. She finally gave in and nodded, making her way over to her other friends while you crept away to dash toward Tai, wherever she was. You eventually found her after dodging around cars and trees listening to Van argue with a group of boys about something sports-related probably. That honestly wasn’t a huge concern of hers at the moment. 
“Hey, Taissa. can I borrow your keys?” Taissa arched a brow. 
“You’re not trying to use my car to go joyriding or to fuck, right?” 
“What? Oh my god- no. I just wanna get something from my bag. It’s in the car,” 
“Where's Lot?” why is that relevant right now?
“She’s with Jackie and Shauna,” you began messing with the loose hair falling in your face, averting your eyes from her. Tai gave you an up and down before tugging at Van’s jacket. 
“Van, go with y/n to my car, ok?” 
“I was just in the middle-” Van started till Tai arched a brow and she gave in. Tai dropped her keys in the redhead's hand and you were off to the car again. 
“Do you already wanna leave?” Van asked, walking backward in front of you. 
“No, I just want something from my bag,” Van slowed to walk in stride with her hands in her pockets, watching you as you watched everyone who passed. 
“Care to share?” you just looked at her and finally managed a laugh.
“I’ll share when we get there,” upon reaching the car and unlocking it, you grabbed your bag and made your way to a more secluded edge over the party where you’d be left alone, Van trailing close behind till you set your solo cup on the ground, sat down saddle style on an old, knocked-over log to rummage through your bag. You pulled out a baggy you’d been holding onto and a lighter.
“Damn, y/n, I didn’t think you the type,” the goalie said as she dropped down across from you. “Where’d ya get it?” she asked, taking the joint you pulled out to share. 
“My older brother. He lives with my dad while he’s going to school and I visited him over Christmas and he gave me a few that I use quite sparingly. 
“Divorced?” she asked, referring to your parents. You shrugged.
“Kinda, but not really? It’s weird. They still like each other and get along but they aren't exclusive by any means. Dad works in Cali while mom moved here to look after her mom who’s a few houses down from us,” you explained as you fidgeted with the lighter, fixated on the way the flame moved up and down, on and off. Van snatched it out of your hand during an “off” moment to light the joint now placed firmly between her teeth. 
You simply watched her process, lighting the joint and then taking in a long breath before holding and letting it go with a sigh as though she was relieved before passing it to you. She did the same, watching your breath in with your eyes shut only to exhale into the dark, finishing off with a small cough before passing it once again. You could see streetlights from the main road from here, you realized. 
“You’re into Lot, aren’t you?” her voice was low to not attract attention, but she was confident in what she had asked. You paused, staring out at the lights just a short walk away. Normally, an insinuation that you were gay would have you panicked. It could have been the weed, but maybe you'd relaxed and found some sliver of comfort in the redhead, your new companion.
“I think I do,” you whistled through your teeth at your admission. You turned to meet her eyes when she nudged your shoulder with the side of her hand, passing the joint off again. “Think I’m a lost cause?” Van snorted and shook her head.
“Oh, hell no. That girl’s crazy about you,” Van said with a sigh, leaning back on her hands where she was sitting on the log. “Now, I don’t know what type of way she feels. Sexual, romantic, or just friendship. But there's something there. Lot’s banked a lot on you,” you began to smile again, soft and mellow as you took another hit. After that one, you leaned down to take a chug of your beer. You offered to pass again, but Van had turned her attention back to the party, particularly to Taissa who looked like she was getting shit from Shauna. Even from over her, you could tell she was wasted given how she stumbled around. Van groaned and got up from where she was sitting.
“Keep it. I gotta deal with this,” she huffed as she left. You watched her go, eyes trailing after her to meet with Lottie’s, who was staring right at you, arm crossed over her chest and cup in hand. She seemed to hesitate between you and her arguing friends, but when the debate got particularly loud she turned with a furrowed brow. You watched her go and kept watching till Jackie derailed the entire situation, pulling all the girls away likely to yell at them. With that done, you sighed, leaning back to fully lie on the log, the joint between your lips and legs dangling over either side as you shut your eyes. 
“You hiding from me over here?” you opened your eyes. The joint was nearly out as it had just been sitting between your teeth for who knows how long by now. Lottie stood over you, arms still crossed as she held onto her nearly drained drink. you shook your head, sitting up as she sat down beside you on your left, much closer than Van had been. You readjusted, sitting properly with both legs over one side of the log, shoulders hunched. Lottie's arm brushed against yours when she moves. “You didn’t come back,” she simply steed with no malice or accusation in her voice. You shrugged. 
“I was getting overwhelmed I guess,” you murmured. “Didn’t feel like talking,” 
“You seemed chatty with Van” Again, she simply stated fact. You sighed and leaned down to take another drink. Lottie took the joint from your hand. You watched, then reached for the lighter to give it a second wind. She held it between her forefinger and thumb for you and once it ignited once more it found home between her lips. You watched, sipping your beer. She smoked far prettier than Van had.
“Van’s a good listener guess. Doesn’t talk too much,” Lottie snorted out a laugh at that. 
“I don't think anyone has ever said ‘Van Palmer doesn’t talk much’” you chuckled out a soft laugh to match hers. You looked away, out at the lights again. Lottie took another breath in, letting the joint sit between her fingers with her crossed arms. She watched the lights with you, though she might not understand the fixation you seemed to have on them. That is, till she paused, turning fully to watch you. She tilted her head again, unexpectedly brushing her fingers over your temple to guide loose hair obstructing her view out of the way and behind your ear. “Let me kiss you,” she murmured, almost as though she was pleading. You turned back to her. Her hand settled on your cheek, fingertips curiously brushing over the apple of your cheek.
“Don’t kid me,” you whispered, eyes glazing as you darted down to her parted lips. 
“Never,” she shook her head ever so slightly. It made her hair sway. You swallowed hard but shakily nodded. That was enough of a yes for her to move in. She immediately dropped the joint in her hand and the hand tracing your cheek found home on the back of your neck. Her now free hand rested behind your ear, stroking your hair as you latched onto her waist, using your left hand to hold you up on the log. 
She kissed like she knew exactly what she was doing. As though this had all been part of a longstanding plan. She’d envisioned this just as you had, and fuck was it perfect. Her lisp whereas urgent as your own and had it not been a public space you might have let her do anything she wanted to you right then and there. She scrunched her fist into your hair, unintentionally pulling ever so lightly on your scalp and eliciting a sudden moan from your throat which only egged her on further till she had to pull away with you chasing after her. 
You opened your eyes wide, lips still parted as you gasped for breath in and out. And then, of course, you got shy, anxious voices telling you she’d regret this immediately. You began to turn from her but the hand in your hair let go and moved to trace knuckles over your cheek and subsequently turn your eyes back to her. She shook her head, murmuring no over and over, soothing you like a child about to cry. And at that thought, the thought of crying alone, you felt the tears spike in your eyes. She watched your brow crinkle as your lip trembled and she pulled you into her chest, holding you as close as she could. 
The hand on your neck found your back as the hand on your cheek moved to cup the back of your head. You buried into your neck as you cried, and she rested her cheek against your scalp, murmuring over and over how it was all ok. She kissed your hair, rubbed your back, and rocked you from side to side as your hands vigorously clung to her sweater, fearing letting her go, because what if the magic would be over and gone when she was out of your hands? 
But reluctantly you needed to let her go, and eventually, that point came where you emerged from her embrace, the scent of her shampoo and perfume fading from you quickly as you met her puffed, teary gaze. She moved to hold your cheeks in her hands as her breath shook. You held your hands around hers, kissing her palm with a weak smile. Fortunately, that had her let go of a watery laugh. But neither of you spoke yet. You just sat in warm silence till you readjusted to be side by side once more, your head lulled to her shoulder with her cheek at your temple.
“Fuck, what do we even do after that?” you breathed, eyes training down to the long discarded joint and red solo cups with only sips left of beer in them, though yours has spilled at some point, soaking the ground under it. 
“I leave tomorrow,” she murmured back. You dressed your lips together before letting go of another sigh. 
“I know… we should have waited” she chuckled sleepily.
“I don’t think so,” you hummed your why. “I’ll be excited to get back here. Well, more excited than I already was to see you,” you chuckled, though your tongue dripped with wordless sarcasm. 
“Don’t forget about me,” 
“Oh, how could I ever after that?” she teased with another giggle. You smiled, nuzzling your nose into her shoulder. With the change in direction, you got an idea upon seeing a small purple flower growing just beside her shoe.
“I know how,” you started, reaching across her side to pick it, leaving a nice, long stem to tuck behind her ear and in her hair. You sat back to admire your work and smiled. “Purple suits you,” you decided, tucking some of the hair behind her ear for a better look at your work. She chuckled with a sniffle, her fingers gently wrapping around your palm, catching you to kiss your fingertips. 
“Mam, are you alright?” you were dragged out of your daydream like a shockwave and had to take several moments to ground yourself again, taking in a deep breath. You blinked repeatedly, shaking your head before forcing a smile. 
“Yes, I’m so sorry. I was remembering something I needed,” you said with a forced chuckle. The florist smiled, though he seemed a little unsure. You turned back to the flower, petal still gently settled between your fingers. “I’ll take this, while I’m here,” you said as you cleared your throat, gently picking up the small white bucket and giving it to the florist to ring up. 
“Ah, Ruellia caroliniensis. But it’s better known as Carolina Wild Petunia. A good choice. Pick it for any reason? I ask everybody that,” he asked, making meaningless small talk. Your eyes stayed focused on the waving petals of the plant as it was gently jostled around. 
“It just reminded me of someone I knew, I guess,” he smiled thoughtfully and nodded with a soft hum of acknowledgment before he asked you for cash or charge. You picked charge which resulted in you digging through your purse for your card. 
“Oh my god! y/n! A shrill voice called when you weren’t looking and just as you pulled out your debit card. You gave the florist you’re card before turning to look who it might be only to have the Misty Quigley herself approaching you with the wide smile and outstretched arms that you felt you had to reciprocate. She squeezed you quite tight and when she let go her hands remained at your side for a moment as she seemed to look at you in awe.
“Well, what the heck are you doing here?” she asked tilting her head with that smile still plastered across her lips till she gasped “Oh! Are you looking for Nat too?” you furrowed your brow and frowned. 
“What? No, I’m-”
“Uh, mam, you’re purchase?” the florist interrupted. You turned from Misty to grab your new belonging, which he had been so kind and bagged for you as well as outstretching your card back to you. 
“Yes, thank you so much! I truly appreciate it!” you said as chipperly as you could before ushering Misty out of the man’s stall and towards a clearing. “What, what are you talking about with Natalie?”
“She got kidnapped!” the blond exclaimed, adjusting her glasses. “She was taken from the motel she was staying in back home and we’re here to find her,” she blabbered on. 
“Hold on, when did Nat get out of rehab and who is we?”
“I dunno, a few weeks ago I think? So much had been going on and it's been hard to keep track and ‘we’ is me and Walter,” you were still confused about the situation and about to ask who Walter was when the man himself showed up. He’d be trailing behind Misty for some time, just casually in the background. He was so average you hadn’t even noticed him. The man waved and offered a smile. You tentatively returned the wave but still seemed confused. 
“I’m not here for Natalie. I didn’t hear about that at all. No, I’m looking for Lottie,” you said rather bluntly. Misty frowned and it was now her turn to be confused. 
“Lottie? But she’s been in Switzerland for years-” 
“Well I thought that too will I saw this,” you whispered, hissing through your teeth as you frantically pulled out your phone and the screenshot you’d taken of the farmers market Instagram post, zooming in on Lottie and shoving the device into her hands.
“No, that can’t be her,” 
“It is. I just- it’s not a great angle but I know it’s her,” you insisted. Misty began to scan the photo curiously, zooming back out when she let out a dramatic gasp and began excitedly smacking at your arm. 
“Purple people!” you yelled. “Purple people!” she repeated it to Walter this time, which summoned him to rush over and huddle around your phone.
“The purple people took Natalie!” she explained with far too much excitement for your liking. 
“Could they have taken Lottie,” Misty shrugged. 
“I dunno, maybe. But only one way to find out!” She shoved your phone back in your hand and began aggressively powerwalking away with Walter tight on her heels. You hesitated momentarily before shutting your phone off and shoving it into your purse, hustling after them. 
“Wait! Do you know where to go?”
“Yes! Of course! We found out from the other stalls,” she called back. “Get in your car and follow us!” she sounded far too excited for this whole ordeal, but what other options did you have to find Lottie? You ran back to your car, got in, and started with heavy breath ready to take the next step on this crazy adventure you found yourself on. 
-💚-
After quite a bit of driving, they pulled off into a bed and breakfast parking lot and parked. You parked beside them and got out with a frustrated expression. 
“We're not going tonight.” Misty rolled her eyes and she pulled her suitcase out of the trunk of what you assumed was Walter’s car. 
“Someone,” she was heavily implying someone to be Walter, especially with the annoyed, flat-mouthed looks he gave him “wanted to wait till morning because he thinks the cult will expect us at night,” you gave her a look that asked “really” and Misty threw up a hand, shaking her head as she grabbed onto her luggage. 
“I know! Trust me, I know, but captain’s orders,” she huffed as she followed Walter into the B&B. You paused, letting out an exasperated sigh before going to grab your duffle back and your plant. You hear Misty muttering about not using her real name as she and Walter get a room. 
“And it's just for one room, right?” the concierge asked. There was an irritatingly comedic back and forth of yes, and no, then both of them settled on no, two rooms would be fine. 
“And, um, you can put mine under the name Lady Mallowan,” Misty gave herself a name straight out of Clue or a shitty romance novel and you couldn’t help rolling your eyes. 
“Seventeen and eighteen. Up the stairs to the right,” then went back and forth with thank yous as they clumsily took their keys, then started deliberating about luggage when Walter offered to take the suitcase off of Misty’s hands. 
“Just one room under y/n l/n is fine, please,” you said simply. You saw Misty and her new boyfriend exchange an appalling look and you had to refrain from laughing. 
“Room nineteen,” 
“That’s great, thanks” You dropped your things upon entry, but gently placed your plant in its bed on the nightstand before collapsing on your bed with a long sigh. Of course, you'd need to get up and change, but for now, lying on your back in a bed that wasn’t yours was all you could feel like doing. That is till you got up from said bed and disappeared into the bathroom, returning with a small paper cup of water that you set on the nightstand as you sat on the edge of the bed. You tentatively opened the bag that held your plant and took it out, setting it on the stand to be out and in the fresh air. You gave it a light drink from the cup before you returned to the bathroom for a shower. 
-💚-
You were woken by Misty’s knock at you’re door bright and early at seven-thirty and back on the road by eight after grabbing complimentary breakfast to go. It was a rather long drive to wherever you were going, but you once again found ways to fill the time. That is till Walter took a screeching u-turn that almost caused a car crash on a winding, wet wooded road, but that was a conversation for later. You pulled up beside them and followed as they now stood excitedly outside a green gate that happened to have a matching bee on it. All you carried with you was your tote bag with your plant tucked away inside. Why you felt the need to bring it, you weren't sure, but it felt necessary. 
“The bee is where the purple people are!” Misty insistently explained.
“Ok, do we need to call them ‘the purple people” 
“Well, yes, but that's only till we get a better name for them. But anyway,” without another word of it, Misty ducked under the gate herself and began walking up the road. 
“Ok, we’re getting hit by a car if we do that-” you started but she shook her head. 
“It'll be fine. It looks decently short,”
“Well what about my car?” you urged. 
“Just lock it! Who’s pulling over in the rain to rob an unattended car out here?” you sighed with exasperation. 
“I dunno, maybe people from the cult we’re actively visiting,” you mumbled to yourself. 
“What was that!” 
“Nothing!” you huffed, following after Misty and now Walter, who had started moving shortly after her. She’d been right though. It was a rather short walk with no cars. You found yourself in what looked like a parking lot in the middle of the woods blocking off yet another road with an even larger fence in front of it. Misty and Walter were actively messing with an intercom system that seemed to have worked as they excitedly returned to your side. 
“Alright, so the man on the other end, I think his name was Jack or Jackson- anyway, he’s getting Natalie and she's coming to meet us here,”
“But what about Lottie?” Misty adjusted her glasses and folded her arms with a shrug. 
“I thought we could have Natalie confirm that, because we know she’s in there-”
“You don’t believe me,” you interrupted as she began trailing off.
“Well, we do not want to be making outlandish accusations to strangers, I mean-” she got easily distracted by the sound of someone walking down the pebbled path.
“What the hell are you doing here?” Nataline started with heavy irritation. 
“Oh, thank God you're safe,” Misty would have hugged her by now had the gate not been in her way.
“Safe? What are you talking about?” her attention turned to you and her eyes widened with further confusion “Hi, y/n,” she added tentatively. You awkwardly waved as she gave you a nod. 
“And who the fսck is this?” she gestured to Walter now. 
“Walter,” he simply introduced himself with a wave and a light chuckle before going on. “I've heard nothing but wonderful things about you” Natalie scrunched her nose, clearly not caring all that much about what impression Misty had given him of her upon first meeting. 
 “We're here to rescue you!” Misty eagerly interjected again. “I mean, you-you were kidnapped, right?”
“No. Uh, yes, technically I was, but it's no big deal, okay?” the notion that Natalie’s kidnapping wasnt that big of a deal was bewildering to Misty as seen on her face, but honestly you understood her reaction. 
“Lottie sent some people for me, but I'm not being held against my will,” she muttered, twisting her neck as she spoke. “Well, not anymore” It was now your turn to perk up. 
“I'm sorry, Lottie?”
“I told you she was here,” you hissed through your teeth at Misty, moving closer to the fencing. 
“Wait- as in Lottie? Lottie, who was committed to a mental institution in Switzerland? That Lottie?”
“Yes, Misty, that's the one,” Natalie turned to you once more “I'm assuming you had your theories or whatever?”
“Oh, I’m not here with them-” you paused. “Ok, originally I was coming here all on my own, but we ran into each other, and well,” from there you gave up.  
“Wait, Natalie, Natalie!” Misty derailed the conversation once again. “​​You're gonna have to elaborate, 
“Look, she runs a place here, and she's helping me reflect or whatever. So, you and your Hardy Boy can go home,” she looked Walter up and down again about Hardy Boy.
“But…”
“I'm doing a fսcking thing here, Misty. I don't need you getting in my way,” she’d lost patience with the blonde’s interruptions and persistence and in all honestly, you felt bad for her given how she shrank back at the raised tone. But she quickly toughened back up, turned on her heels, and marched back in the direction you'd come. 
“She seems nice,” Walter tried to lighten the mood. Natalie sighed with either exhaustion or irritation, watching them go before her eyes drifted to you, still standing in front of her. “You’re not done too?”
“Natalie, I need to see her,” she let out a scoffish chuckle and sighed through her nose. 
“Oh, I’m sure you do,” 
“I’m serious, Natalie,”
“Oh no, I can tell you are, don’t worry. Just- just give me a minute, alright. Let me ask my guy,” she began to turn but waited for you to nod before actually leaving. You stood still, turning to check your surroundings once more just to be as sure as possible. Natalie returned quite quickly with a man behind her. She shrugged, seeming surprised by the verdict herself as the gate’s electric lock began to unlatch letting you in. 
“Uh, my car is still parked with some of my things,” Natalie was already shaking her head. 
“We can have someone come and retrieve it all later,” Natalie’s companion started ad Natalie turned, already heading up the hill for a second time. 
“But you're not gonna need it!” she yelled behind her. Due to her eagerness to leave the scene, you were left walking beside the strange man who let you in. 
“So, I'm assuming you’re Jack or…” you drawled off but he chuckled, appreciating your intention. 
“Jeferson,” he cleared. 
“Right, ok. Nice to meet you,” you nodded, your hands clutching quite tight to the straps of your tote bag. “Look, I don’t mean to sound rude, but I’m only here to see Lottie not join your… well join whatever you're up to,” he laughed again and nodded. 
“Don’t worry. She knows you're here,” a shive rushed down your spine as you realized what was happening. “I’m instructed to take her to you, actually,” 
“Oh. wow, that’s just great. Yeah, great,” you whispered to yourself as you bit your lip, questioning if this was going to be a good idea after all. When you looked up again, taking a deep breath you were met with quite a beautiful scene before you. It was a nice, well-organized camp on a lake with cabins and what you assumed were social areas all around and throughout the woods. You paused for a moment to take it in and wonder, did Lottie make all of this? 
“Charlotte is waiting this way, Ms. l/n,” Jeferson interrupted your wonderings. 
“Mhm, I’m coming,” you had to manually tell your feet to move before you could follow him to the separate cabin that must be Lottie’s. He had already walked up the stairs by the time you approached the porch, taking a moment to appreciate its handiwork before trudging up the creaking wood. Jefferson opened the door but didn’t enter, only gesturing for you to go in. 
“Charlotte will be here as soon as she can step away,” he explained as you cautiously walked in. You nodded, turning around to give him your thanks but he was already shutting the door, leaving you to your own devices. For a moment you stood completely still, watching the wooden door anticipating her walking in at any second, but after a few seconds of stillness, your foot began bouncing with building anxiety squeezing at your chest. 
“Shit,” you hissed, turning to look around your surroundings and find something to help you calm down. You put your bag on the table, but take the time to take the plant out and set it beside your bag. You rubbed your sweating palms on your pants and began to wander around the single room you found yourself in. Her main space was split into a small lounge-ish office space with a kitchen on the other half. 
You assumed the bathroom and her bedroom were down in the back of the cabin and with a craning of your neck you could see in one of the rooms but you decided it best to leave that be. Wandering around the office space you ran your fingertips over the edge of her desk. You peaked over the edge, curiosity winning momentarily before you restrained yourself, instead turning to the art hung on her wall featuring deer and other wilderness things before resigning yourself to the couch facing her desk. 
You flopped down rather unceremoniously but couldn't help sitting stiff, hunched forward with your knee bouncing in anticipation. Your eyes trained on her desk again, which was mostly bare of anything decor-like other than the two small picture frames. You forced yourself to look away till your nerves kicked in again and you were back up and taking the large one into your hands. It featured a classic team photo of the soccer team back in high school, but earlier on during your sophomore year. 
You chuckled lightly scanning over the baby faces your old friends used to have. Having something familiar to look at was relaxing, you decided. Maybe not the most morally correct thing, but this was an exceptional situation. So, you moved on to the small one, thinking none of it till she got a look and your heart dropped again. Pressed pristinely against the glass was an all too familiar flower, nearly identical to the one you'd been carrying for the past day and a half. Only this one had far more wear to it, clearly showing its age. It had faded in color over time, taking on hues of parchment brown rather than the vibrant purples you’d been familiar with. You traced over the shapes of the petals, likely dry and dusty to the touch by now over its safety net of glass. That is till you heard the carbon door abruptly shut.
And oh, she was perfect. She was sickeningly, stunningly perfect but all you could do was freeze where you stood, grip tightening around the small wooden frame in your clasp out of fear you might drop it if you didn’t squeeze tight. And she stood just as stunned at you. Age had encompassed her face all this time, but it was still her face. The one you had ingrained in your mind, so much more detailed than any photograph. You felt your chin begin to quiver.  
“Please tell me you didn't hold on to that all these years" You had to force it out with your breath ad your brow bowed with the strain of keeping it together. And then she laughed. She laughed her laugh, now blossoming with the beautiful thing that is age, just as every other part of her was. She moved toward you as though she was floating. She took her caftan off so smoothly it was like the breeze itself removed it for her. And before anything else, she took the frame from your hands, fingertips brushing together only for a moment. She returned it to its place before shakily turning back to you, tears drizzling from her eyes as she smiled.
“How could I not,” she murmured with a laugh full of exasperated joy as though she couldn’t believe what she was seeing. Her hands hovered over your arms as though she feared touching you would break the illusion, but with the way your lip trembled and tears rolled from your eyes as you held back a strangled sob she couldn’t refrain herself. It all felt so new and old all at once and oh, how overwhelming she was, her hands cupped at your face, thumbs stroking at your tears as you let it all go, sopping into her. 
Just as she had years before she murmured sweet nothing promising that you were safe and you were here, but not only you. After so much time she needed the reassurance of reality just as much. She pulled you in, just as before and your nose found its rightful place in the curve of her neck as her cheek found your scalp. She held you up and close as your knees began to shake and you had to grip onto her shoulder blades for what felt like dear life. You needed to feel her to truly know that she was here, she was real and she was yours, as were you.
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beyondthisdarkhouse · 11 months
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Tl;dr: I have restocked my Etsy shop! If I sell out again, I won't be able to restock until Tuesday.
Life of me:
Spend months bringing embroidery patterns to sell at historical re-enactment events. Get a lot of admirers but average 3 sales per month. Ponder if this is because the chronic pain-and-fatigue multipliers of being at the event, dressed, with a table set up with stuff, and sitting in a chair for several hours, leaves you with the engaging salesmanship of a Galapagos tortoise.
Buy a roll of interfacing 8" wide and 9 yards (27 feet, 324 inches!!) long to print patterns on. Expect to run out at the end of the next Ice Age. Print 13" long strips because that's the longest size the printer will countenance.
Open Etsy shop. Wait several days. Get 9 visitors.
Post on Tumblr
Receive RAVENING HORDE of buyers on Etsy, like homg. When nobody else got me, I know TUMBLR got me. Sell out entire inventory in like 6 hours flat.
Realize that the item price with the coupon code discount is $2 less than the cost of shipping. Realize why so many people cautioned me against guaranteed free shipping. Make shipping the customer's issue.
Change prices, bc they were originally based around the marketing idea of "please oh god someone buy something I'm fucking desperate"
Package up first 5 Etsy orders around midnight; put hoodie on and walk to nearest postbox.
Occupy yourself with embroidering a little mushroom while winding down for sleep (necessary due to vibration of HOLY SHIT I SOLD THINGS)
Feel like a medieval peasant to whom a miracle has occurred
In the morning, decide to dump the seller manual and planned schedule of product release. Wander the apartment 5x looking for stray lengths of embroidery pattern that have gotten put somewhere weird. Print out patterns until only ONE PIECE of interfacing is left.
Order more interfacing, but the soonest it will arrive is Tuesday. Take inventory and calculate how many items are claimed vs up for sale.
Photograph every single blackwork handstitch pattern in the apartment. They are not very good photographs, but at least they exist.
Sleep for 6 hours in the middle of the day because apparently photography is exhausting and fibromyalgia is an ass
Realise right hand is inflamed and hurts to move because of embroidering a littol mushroom. Why are bodies.
List every single pattern on Etsy even if there's only 1 piece of it for sale. Ache from head to toe because apparently standing up to deal with the printer etc counts as like, intense physical labour?
Email 3 local print shops for quotes because this is. A LOT.
Tomorrow:
Have helper come over and package up orders to go out.
Print very last page of interfacing. Probably with more of the Cottagecore pattern, which just sold out, because it is STINKING CUTE.
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Monday:
Spend whole day playing Stardew Valley and eating chocolate pudding and NOT THINKING about the provincial election. (Voted last week, the day advanced polls opened)
Now:
Walk from living room to bed. Why?? How?? Why are we put on this earth?? Just to suffer???
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nakitengoku · 3 months
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oc interview: 💙Vex💙
Shoutout to @mail-me-a-snail for tagging me in this post and also egging me along with getting into Cyberpunk 2077 and subsequently creating Vex 💫
(I don't have a single good photo of Vex so you instead get the Compilation of sillies I've drawn, many featuring Snail's Vance!)
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💙 Name?
"Name's Vex, but call me anything you like."
💙 Nickname?
"Some people used to call me V, but that was a while ago."
He used to be called Ghost when he was younger, being able to slip into the background unnoticed at any moment, but he later grew out of that. When he eventually adopted the name V, it was less of a nickname and more of a stage name. It's mostly forgotten now, but some hardcore fans will still recognize and call him V.
💙 Gender?
"Prettyboy 💖"
💙 Star sign?
"Oh, I used to be really into these! If I remember right, My sun and moon are both Libra. Missy could probably tell you more about what that means though."
I decided to take one out of Max's book and use the first time i drew him as his birthday, which if we're going by the absolute first concept, was September 26, 2022. He's changed a Lot since then. Also, reading up on libras with Vex in mind is just 💥
💙 Height?
".....5'8."
He's actually 5'7 and a half.
💙 Orientation?
"Anyone able and willing. Why, you interested?"
If he cared enough about labels, it'd probably be pansexual. But by the end of the day, he doesn't really care what he gets called. As long as he gets what he wants out of it, anything's fine.
💙 Nationality/Ethnicity?
"White."
💙Favorite Fruit?
"Oh man, okay so I've only had it once at an after party forever ago, but it was this round, redish purple thing. When I bit into it, it was a little tart at first, but the inside was such a sweet taste that I was in heaven. By the time I finished and threw the pit away, there were no more left and I nearly cried. I haven't seen it since and I can't remember the name but man. Best organic thing I've ever tasted."
If you give this man a plum, he'd kill someone for you. Which isn't a lot given that that's his job, but still. He'd do it without expecting to be paid in money.
💙 Favorite season?
"Fall, for sure. While I was in Atlanta, they had these parks with trees that would change their colours to these gorgeous shades of reds and oranges. God, kinda makes me wish I could grow something like that here."
I don't actually know the plant life in Nevada or how much the temperature differentiates between the seasons in Night City, but I imagine that what shrubbery they do have there have leaves that are always green or simply non-existent. Vex saw a plant change colour outside of blooming and immediately fell in love with it.
💙 Favorite flower?
"Officially, Lilacs. But between you and me, I'm very partial to forget-me-nots."
He used to be gifted Lilacs all the time during his first career by Jonathan, his producer, but Vex always found himself enjoying the little forget-me-nots that acted as accent flowers than the actual lilacs themselves.
💙 Coffee, tea or Hot chocolate?
"Hot chocolate. Although, I will drink coffee in a pinch."
This man has the biggest sweet tooth. The amount of sugar he puts in his coffee before he chugs it down for the caffeine should be illegal. [I cannot judge bc I am the same way <3]
💙 Average hours of sleep?
'We talking Mean, Median or Mode?"
It varies so much that the actual average ends up being about 6, but um. Do not be fooled into thinking he's actually sleeping 6 hours every night. Think more along the lines of several all-nighters followed by crashing super hard for a day or two.
💙 Dog or cat person?
"Oh, a cat person. I'm just not home enough for a dog."
💙 Dream trip?
"I saw a pamplet once of Crater Lake in Oregon. It was something about the ten deadliest lakes in the world or something, but I'm just into how Blue it is. If I could, I'd visit the rest of those lakes too, but. Eh, I doubt it."
💙 Favorite Fictional Character?
"Hmm, it's a toss up between a side from this really long and old comic from the 2010's and the protagonist from a just as long manga from the 2000's. I think their names were Kanya and Ruffy? It's been 15 years though so don't quote me on that."
It's Kanaya from homestuck and Luffy from One Piece. He likes Kanaya because of her fashion sense and her dealing with the responsibility of her entire species on her shoulders. And he likes Luffy for his optimism and stubbornness. At one point, he imagined finding friends like Luffy did, being surrounded by so much devotion. The reasoning has since faded and he just barely remembers much about them now.
💙 Number of Blankets you sleep with?
"Eight. I like the weight and warmth."
His AC bill is through the fucking roof but he refuses to take a single blanket off, instead insisting on just making the rest of the room freezing. Giving him a weighted blanket wouldn't fix it, but he'd probably go down to five instead of eight.
💙 Random fact?
"When i was really little, my mom used to take me to a church. Don't think it exists any more, but I remember the Stain glass windows, how the light shone through and fell onto her. In normal lighting, I remember her looking pale a sickly, but once a week, with a statue of a half-god watching over us, my mother glowed. She was gorgeous.
"Anyway, I stopped going after she died. For a while it was because I never remembered what day it was, but later it was because I realized I only ever went to see my mom glow."
~~
Thank you for tagging me, Max! This was much longer than what i thought when i was getting into it but I'm still glad I did it.
I can't think of anyone specific who'd want to do this, so if you see this and want to give it a try, please do and tag me! I'd love to see your little blorbos :)
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skoff-the-artist · 1 year
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Hi :)
Since it's New Year, I wanted to share my story with you. This post is pretty personal to me. Just beware. It's heavy. I will be telling you some important stuff in the end tho :)
TW for everything (I tried to avoid graphic details but my life is graphic, so) but this is a story with a happy ending!
2022 was rough. My English knowledge wouldn't be enough to describe how rough it was. This year started off..not good. I was depressed and tired after a really heavy December of 2021 during which I was preparing for the finals and supporting my grandma while my mom was in the hospital (she was suspected of having cancer but everything ended well).
The only hope I had was for the spring to come and sun to shine and let me enjoy things. I dreamt of green, of blue, of warmth of the future and it was the only thing that got me through January and almost the entirety of February.
Maybe you know, maybe you don't, but I'm Ukrainian. So the happy 2022 spring never happened. I live in the eastern region, 40km from the border with russia. 24.02.2022 I woke up at 5AM from the explosions that have shaken the glass in my windows. My mom told me "Pack up your things, the war has started". Good thing I prepared everything few days before. It wasn't shocking. I just accepted it as the logical continuation of all the shit I've been through.
We moved downtown to grandma's flat from the outskirts where we lived. First night I slept in the cold underground train with many people just like me. Scared. Artillery shelling didn't stop. I moved to live with my friend's family few blocks away from my grandma's flat, where my mom stayed. Our city was getting destroyed. We've seen it, heard it, felt it. The ground shook nonstop. It was terrifying. It was dark at night: light in houses wasn't allowed so the enemy bombers won't see the city from the sky. They saw. We heard bombs fall on us every night. We couldn't sleep, so we slept 1-2 hours between shellings during the day. On the floor, of course, so the glass from the windows won't hurt us if it was to blow up from the blast wave.
We (me and two of my best friends) quickly accepted our deaths, so we made jokes all the time. We were laughing hysterically when the bombers flew over the house bc "what, you have no hobbies? Fly away and dо something, bitch!". When it was artillery, we covered our ears up and sang, laying face down on the floor. I turned the music on my phone up. We hoped that if someone has to die today, it wouldn't be us.
Dozens of civilians died daily. In their own houses, in their beds, under the rubble.
My grandma died of stress on March 1. Our small family became even smaller. I felt numb. Me and my mom fled to another city on March 4. Two of my friends stayed in our hometown and third one fled to Poland.
It was snowing when we left.
And so the spring began.
I can't remember much from that time. In the new city it was.. quiet. Bright at night. Peaceful (almost, as there still were some rocket hits during my half year stay). I didn't feel like I belonged. Kids were laughing on the streets, grocery shops were full with food. And there was I. Alone. It didn't felt like my soul was in pieces, it felt like it was dust.
I read news. Seen horrific photos of familiar buildings turned to some stone and dirt overnight. It was so so painful. It changed me as a person, really. I didn't notice passing of time, just existed from day to day. Tried to keep up with school, did some assignments on autopilot. I didn't even cry.
And I still had to finish school and go to university.
Somewhere around April, when I started to catch up on life again, I got back into Transformers. Now I had plenty of time to watch, read, draw and think so I did just that. And it brought me comfort. During May I finished reading Lost Light, created my first Tumblr blog, graduated in fcking Zoom celebrated my 17th birthday. I allowed myself some hope. As funny as it sounds, Transformers healed me in a way! I heavily associate myself with the characters, who had to go through war, who saw their home getting destroyed but still value morals and their friends. Summer was calm, although my hometown suffered from shellings everyday. When attacks stopped for a bit, I visited my home twice. During my first visit I met my friends and went to school to greet my teachers while my mom collected some stuff from our flat. During my second visit I cried in my own room for the first time in months and nearly died an hour later when our bus got under the shelling but despite this I was happy because it still was MY city, familiar views and familiar people.
Back into our temporary flat in another city, I often went to feed the seagulls on the cost of the river Dnipro. I stargazed at night, looking for constellations. I found peace in those little moments. I also drew A LOT. And loved every second of it. Really helps to get that heaviness of your chest. You helped me, too. Your support of my work surprised me! Many people were interested in my AU, it was unexpected, but quite nice :)
And during the summer I learned how to genuinely smile again. I lacked one thing – my home.
I got accepted into the academy's of arts and design! I found two new friends! In September our troops cleared the area around my city, so the artillery shellings stopped entirely. And closer to the October I MOVED BACK BABY. It was my own choice and I don't regret it. My mom supported me, saying that life can't be put on hold, and if you have to be at home in order to live, then so be it.
I CAN FINALLY REST ON MY OWN BED, SIT IN MY OWN CHAIR, LOOK OUT OF MY WINDOWS (one of which was broken bc our apartment building got hit twice during shellings) AND MEET MY FRIENDS FREQUENTLY. And, what's important, I still can draw. I'm so grateful for this.
Learning process started. I am constantly tired, not of drawing but of the quantity of the assignments I have to finish. My sleep schedule got fucked up really bad. I suffer from PTSD, I'm scared of loud noises, I developed a deep hatred inside of me during this year, my life is one huge reminder of what I have to live through daily, missile strikes never stopped, and because of that we often have no electricity nor water, I wake up from distant explosions at least once a week, war still rages just around the corner.
But.
I'm a fighter, bitch!
And IDC. My city is actively getting rebuilt, shops reopen, public transportation works as good as ever, streets are clean. I still enjoy things, laugh, meet my friends, colour my hair (I'm a redhead rn!), sleep with plushies, listen to music, read comics, think about something new I could draw and post, go outside, cry reading optiratch fanfiction, do my nails and LIVE. Maybe I'm not as happy as I could be but I'm still here, with you. I'm alive.
Transformers grew close to me because there's so much I have to tell you through the characters that I love. I understand them and I feel like they could understand me if they were real. And if you understand them that means you can understand me, too! I value it over anything else.
Before 2023 starts I want you to know. Not everything means to be restored. But if something is to be restored, it will be. Wounds heal. There always will be people who'd understand you and love you for who you are. Bad things will end eventually, even longest wars always ended. Value everything you have, every breath is precious, every quiet night is priceless. Look at the night sky more often. Unite with others, spend time with your family and friends. Keep living!
As you reading this, I'm celebrating New Year with my friends.
Google "Kharkiv", it's a beautiful place.
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emdotcom · 2 months
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Pros of the new job:
Crazy-ass hours mean I don't need to adhere to my family's schedule (i.e. -- dinner's at 5, but they don't guilt trip me if I don't go, now)
Only one person has made me feel like i should quit, so far, & it was only one time
I have a name, & people bother to call me the correct one!! (IMAGINE)
Free slorpie & sodie yay yay yay :D
So far, nobody has told me off for drawing or listening to my headphones, so long as I'm paying attention to customers (& I am!)
On the one occasion that I did work a double shift 1) it was only due to another person calling in sick (& it was NOT intentionally scheduled like that, multiple days in a row, unlike my first job), 2) They made sure I got a break in-between the shifts (any break at all is better than my first job, but they gave me multiple hours & my manager personally covered me while I took said break), & 3) They moved my next shift down (again -- manager took the shift I was going to work) so i could get more than 6 hours of sleep before coming back for another 8 hours.
I get paid weekly, &, thus far, not a single check has been late (unlike my previous job, where i was paid ""bi-weekly"" -- which was always 2-9 days late by my boss & post-dated to not pay out for another several days)
They have not asked me to do anything INCREDIBLY ILLEGAL. Like the type of thing that would get a doctor shut down & stripped of their license for a major violation.
I don't constantly consider killing myself just to avoid working (i am not joking. It was fucking attrocious. It was constant. It was before work, at work, & after work, DAILY)
Having a job means I don't need to wade through the hellscape that is job applications, &, so far, have paid of 2/3 of the debts i accrued when I was jobless (the third one is slightly more substantial, & will take up at least 1/2 my check)
I have money, again! God, i missed not having to stress over whether i could afford the gas needed to drive to all these damned job interviews, wondering if I needed to borrow MORE money, & driving knowing that I probably won't get the job that is currently eating up my tank
The schedule has been less unrelenting. If i applied for health insurance, I would likely be able to make doctor appointements & keep them. A novel concept
Cons of the new job:
There are several tasks that would take me mere minutes to complete if I were left uninterrupted for a relevant amount of time, but bc of TWO company policies, they all take me hours
They don't like when we sit down, so I continue to have severe joint pains that last multiple days. If anyone has a good shoe brand, pls reccomend
This job makes me horribly aware of how bad I am at making eye contact
It turns out I am not a "night person," as I have assumed for the past 20 years, but instead have "chronic, untreated insomnia" that affects me regardless of what time of day it is, & so taking night/over-night shifts did not suddenly make me a person who can just go to sleep easily. Who'd-a thunk it!
I am still really bad at time management, I am still really tired, & it still feels like all my hours are slipping away (every job has felt like this, so far)
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zukkaoru · 3 months
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OKAY UMMMM this is hard bc I know most of this. imma give you a couple:
ezekiel jones bc silly guy & uhhhh chuuya or gin, ig you haven’t done them bc i literally CALLED that you’d love them!!!
also did you know that. um. ily~
hi beloved ily 🥰💕 starting with gin bc. fave 💓💓💓
first impression:
"wait 'he'? i didn't think corey said they were a boy??" and then i think i proceeded to actually pause the episode and check bsd wiki to make sure i had the right character and correctly remembered what you told me about them
impression now:
i need to see them again Right Now. please asagiri bring them back i need to see them i need to know they're okay i need them to reunite with akutagawa and i need to see what happens between them and tachi and and adn
favorite moment:
all of them <3 uhh real answer is i really love the omake where they're going around asking for advice about how to help akutagawa deal with his stress in a healthy way now that he can't kill people
idea for a story:
sometimes i think about a tachigin bodyswap au.. post-doa arc so gin has to deal with tachi's limited vision while tachi is suddenly faced with the brunt of gin's body dysphoria. gin hates hearing their voice but tachi doesn't actually mind it and he won't shut up. gin doesn't mind talking either now though bc their voice just sounds like tachihara's. and they don't actually mind being in his body either. but also having to watch their body from the outside is weird and awful. they have to call akutagawa to pick them up and take them to the agency so dazai can switch them back. akutagawa seems to hate the switch even more than gin and tachihara do.
unpopular opinion:
they're the best character in bsd.
favorite relationship:
any flavor of tachigin and also the akutagawa siblings!!! i want to see more of them in canon asagiri please also i'm kind of really intrigued by their dynamic with dazai,, like we don't really see much interaction between them in canon but i like how i picture their dynamic in my mind bc gin has a lot of complicated feelings towards him and i'm not sure dazai really even realizes that, or at least he doesn't realize the full extent of it
favorite headcanon:
transmasc gin!!!
chuuya:
first impression:
"he's the geto of bungou stray dogs"
impression now:
for someone who has literally the most fans out of all the bsd characters, there are surprisingly few people who even remotely understand them😐
favorite moment:
basic but probably when he comes to save the ada in the helicopter. or the scene in dead apple when he goes to fight the dragon and ango is like "dude dazai's probably dead. you're going to die if you use corruption." and chuuya's like LOL dazai??? dead????? trust me i'd know if that waste of bandages finally kicked the bucket. now stop talking i have a dragon to beat up
idea for a story:
i think i told you about this but a kunichuu 5+1 that's just chuuya not being able to shut up about kunikida when talking to literally everyone at the port mafia. they're spending a half hour talking about kuni during an executive meeting and they aren't even dating him yet. how is this somehow worse than teenage dazai and chuuya, mori wonders. at least it isn't dazai, kouyou argues, blissfully unaware that dazai will end up being part of the relationship too.
unpopular opinion:
i don't like transmasc chuuya. it won't turn me off a fic completely but chuuya is one of those characters like cherry and zuko who gets softened and uwu-ified and oftentimes, this is just made even worse when they're written as trans. which is. a problem across fandoms in general obviously since cherry and zuko get the same treatment. also this shouldn't be unpopular but chuuya didn't spend like eight months crying himself to sleep after dazai left. hello??? do you even hear yourself??? i'm not a big fan of femchuuya either and in fact like that less than femdazai. nor am i particularly into ada chuuya, mostly because people soften their character way too much when they write ada chuuya. i want my chuuya still recognizable as chuuya!!! alas most people can't even get chuuya's characterization right regardless of any au or gender headcanons. anyway i'm sure i have a bunch more but i'll stop here
favorite relationship:
have you heard of kunichuu. or kunichuuzai even. it's not as if we have spoken about this at length multiple times or anything
favorite headcanon:
nonbinary chuuya!!!!!
--
ezekiel:
first impression:
i first watched the librarians in 2015 i do NOT remember that
impression now:
i miss him :(
favorite moment:
in the apple of discord episode where he snatches the apple but nothing happens bc he's "already the worst version of himself". i don't think we talk enough about the implications of that!!! the others immediately went for murder but ezekiel's "worst version" of himself is?? a thief who's kinda lazy but still clearly cares about everyone around him?? do you understand how insane that is!!!!!!
idea for a story:
once a very long time ago (in high school) i started writing an arospec ezekiel fic. i didn't get very far and i'm sure whatever i had written was bad but it was such a good idea
unpopular opinion:
i don't think there were any popular ezekiel opinions i heavily disagreed with?? best i can think of is that i like caszekiel better than jassandra
favorite relationship:
jazekiel realness..... and i do enjoy caszekiel too
favorite headcanon:
demiromantic/demisexual ezekiel!! it's canon TO ME
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meghlet · 8 months
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One more day
Nay one more hour til I fall asleep
And then it's Day.
The morning could be terrible. There was a terrible today and I almost lost it! I really really did. I almost got into my car to just start driving but I didn't because! My things! Are also in the truck! And I need my dad! To bring them! And if I just left! I don't know what would happen to them! Maybe my mom would set them on fire like she's threatened before :) <3 so I just didn't want to leave them my ex sister in law gave me this desk when I was 10 and Adam was a very new thing and I was so very alone and mom was gone :) and no one paid attention to me which doesn't make me special many people were ignored by their mothers and had fathers who worked constantly but it still hurt :) but then maggie paid attention to me and took me to her house and put on the fellowship of the ring and then gave me this old desk and also a bookshelf and the desk is small and the bookshelf is falling apart but I felt so incredibly loved and cared for and she was like so nonchalant about it like I'm not using them anymore it's really not a big deal and I was like literally no adult has paid me attention in like a year you have no idea how amazing this feels I love you thank you :) and then later after they got married and moved I spent so much time at their house bc they lived a block away and my brother was never around much but maggie and fyo were and he was such a cute chubby baby and he used to get so happy when I danced and I'd put on my brother's Coldplay cd bc it was the only cd he had that I liked and I'd put fyo in the high chair and dance and dance and he'd laugh and laugh and it was so nice!!!!!!!!!!!! And then they moved and Maggie attempted suicide and they got divorced and I felt like I lost a whole fucking ass sister and we just never talked about it lol she's not my blood relative but super cute super fun suicide attempt trend for the ladies in the fam I used to think about her lots and worry about her but I think she's ok ish now she has the kids on the weekends
Anyway literally not even the point
I didn't leave I stayed and she evened out and maybe tomorrow will be fine!!!! Maybe it will just be fucking fine. Maybe she will just get in the truck and her and dad will drive and I'll drive and we'll get to my aunties and I will refuse to unpack my car until my mom leaves and I'll call my auntie on the way and say if you mention anything about the amount of stuff I've brought I will throttle you and your bird in your sleep but I'll say it in a nicer way but I am so very like. I don't think I can deal with mom getting triggered by anything else it ironically is the most triggering thing I've ever experienced, I was truly physically paralyzed today in a deep, deep state of terror shaking from head to toe and I really feel like I almost died. And dad barely even noticed she was being insane which is actually great, like not sarcastically kinda great, because that means he can survive this. I cannot. And soon I will be gone. So soon. It couldn't have just been nice for me before I left. Did you know that some people just get to go to school and it's like normal for them? They just pack and then they like go? And their parents are sad to see them go but happy for their future? They don't have to fight for their fucking lives just to get through to the day they leave with hopefully all their things intact even after they've already gotten rid of so many of their things just for the sake of you?
This post is so self pitying, whatever. Soon I'll be happy and and I won't self pity no more. Insert that fucking transcendental quote from hill house the one I've been screaming in my head for weeks you know the one
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singingninja4 · 2 years
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very long and kind of emotional word vomit post under the cut
tl;dr - I love BCS and this fandom community and I'm really not ready to say goodbye to the story and the characters
I shared a post earlier saying that a piece of media has never affected me as much as better call saul. last night I wept. I felt sick to my stomach, and my heart ached so much I couldn’t sleep. I’ve been hyperfixated on shows and movies before, but I’ve never had such a strong visceral reaction. in some of my other fandoms, I’ve cried—uncontrollably sobbed even—when a favorite character died or something else tragic occurred. like when tony stark died in endgame I ugly cried during the last 30 mins of the movie. I spent 10 years loving that character but then when I left the theater, I was able to go about my day. I was a little down for a few hours, and I certainly continued to grieve the character, but I was functional.
I’ve been contemplating all day why this show, better call saul, has ingrained itself into my being more so than any other show. one reason may be the amount of time I’ve spent with this universe and these characters. I didn’t watch brba from the very beginning—I started while season 3 was airing—but I’ve been with this universe for 12 years!! but I’ve been with other fandoms for just as long if not longer. another reason is definitely the quality of the show. across the board, with acting, writing, directing, music, cinematography, sound, costumes, literally every department is at the top of their game producing some of the best quality television to ever exist. no one is doing it like gilligould and co. NO ONE. but that’s not the only reason. I’ve watched other shows and movies that are of similar quality. Avatar the Last Airbender is and probably will forever be one of the greatest animated shows to ever air imo and for a lot of the same reasons. and yeah, atla holds a special place in my heart and I cry every time I watch certain scenes, but I don’t feel debilitating physical pain from it.
but after reflecting on it all day, what sets BCS apart from all of my other hyperfixations is the timing of it all. as I said, I’ve been a devout fan of the brba universe since around 2010, but my hyperfixation hit a whole new level in march 2020 when the pandemic hit and the first lockdown occurred. this was a very dark time in my life, as I know it was for many others. suddenly being totally isolated, scared about our health and our future, and for those of us in the usa, the fear and anger about our political landscape was traumatizing. I turned to tv and other media to fill some of the voids in my life, bcs and brba being the main shows I turned to for comfort. tbh I think that bcs being there for me during such a traumatizing and lonely time just stitched the characters even deeper into my heart.
another thing that sets it apart, is that this is the first time I have ever made friends through fandom/online spaces. I’ve been on tumblr for about 11-12 years, but until spring of 2020, I never really interacted with other people in fandom spaces. I was always a little detached, simply reblogging things I liked. as I’m sure we all were during the beginning of the pandemic, I was in desperate need of social interaction, and so I started to branch out a little bit in online fandom spaces like tumblr and ao3. then in november 2020 my family and I came down with severe covid. like my mom had to be hospitalized (she’s fine now) and I should have been but wasn’t because of my age and the number of beds in the hospital. during this time a lot of my irl “friends” showed their true colors. even though they knew we were sick hardly any of my friends checked in on me and my family. fortunately, we had other people besides my shitty “friends” to rely on to take care of us. anyway, I lost a lot of friends during that time, and so I dove even deeper into cultivating my friendships online as well as the few irl friends who stuck by my side.
I’ve made some fantastic friends over the last 2 years in the bcs fandom. some of y’all know me better in some ways than several of my irl friends.  the bonding that I have shared with y’all as we waited for season 6—the watch parties on tutturu (aka hyperbeam), the unhinged blogging, discord server inside jokes, fic writing and reading, song covers, voice chats, memeing and so many more interactions both about BCS and outside of it—all of these experiences continued to weave the bcs universe, its characters, and this fandom community into my soul.
last night’s episode was the end of an era, the beginning of the end. and the break-up between kim and jimmy, though inevitable, was devastating. I am utterly heart broken and am having trouble rising up out of how depressed I am about it. I never anticipated that I would be so emotionally invested in these wonderful characters that I would feel physically ill at the thought of their separation. I love this show so so much and it has gotten me through some very dark times, and I feel absolutely sick thinking about it ending. but I’ve realized it’s because I associate these characters and story that I love so much with all the wonderful people I’ve met here. y'all truly helped me through those dark times as well.
I am really not ready to say goodbye to this story and these characters. and I know it’s a silly thought, but I also think that the episode subconsciously triggered a fear that when the show ends, so will the lovely community I’ve made over the last 2 years (I’ve got some abandonment issues, but I won’t go into that here). I really hope that is not the case, and I’m going to try my damnedest to keep in touch with y’all even if the fandom dies down because this community truly means so much to me. 
anyway, I don’t really know where I was going with this…I don't think I articulated anything very well and I’m just kind of rambling at this point 😅 but I really just needed to write down my thoughts to process all these feelings I’ve been having all day. and also just wanted to tell y’all how much this fandom means to me 💖
edit:
thought I should clarify that even though I'm devastated by their break up, I'm anxious and excited for journey these characters are going to take us on in the final few episodes...even if I'm not ready for it to end yet 💖
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abybweisse · 2 years
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hiya! loooove ur acc, I find myself regularly going on several hours long reading sessions into all ur old posts XD
I just wanted to ask about when you said this:
Tumblr media
do you think this could have anything to do with why the r!ciel and the other dolls need to "drink" blood? and why they seem saner/actually conscious compared to the ones on the campania?
like maybe there's trace amounts of a humans soul in their blood? and so since the campania dolls didn't get blood transfusions (I'm assuming) from UT, they went out trying to gain what they don't have.
but if there are parts of souls in human blood, then that mindless need to find a soul can be subsided bc the more advanced dolls actually HAVE bits of souls in them? but it runs out eventually which is why they need to keep having more transfusions from living people. (maybe the blood isn't going bad or anything, there's just no soul left in it)
my personal idea/hc for the kuro universe is that a soul is like a kind of energy source for consciousness, and the cinematic record is powered by it. UT can edit the record, but he can't get it up and running again, and making new memories without something to power it.
so a human is like a computer, a soul is like the electricity in it, the brain is the hardware (UT can't bring someone back if the brain is destroyed), and the cinematic record is the software if that makes sense?
love to hear your thoughts! 💖💖
Oooh, thank you, but I hope you are getting enough sleep!
How bizarre dolls work
You make some good points, but there's one thing missing up there: the bizarre dolls that are the link between the mindless ones on the Campania and these highly advanced ones he calls "lords of the stars". Agares, Derrick, and his pals are the first bizarre dolls we meet who are capable of speech. The students weren't particularly good vessels for this technique, since they didn't seem to have many "episodes", but Agares was better. Before he resorts back to the mindless, speechless, biting variety, he knows something is wrong and that he isn't going to hold onto his mind much longer.
They were not receiving blood transfusions, so no injection of "trace amounts" of soul, as you say. And yet they were talking, and Agares could actually think for himself a little bit; Agares might have even been creating new memories to store on his cinematic records. Don't know that I can say the same for Derrick or the others, though.
Anyway, somewhat advanced bizarre dolls (like Agares) can go just fine on "episodes" alone, and Undertaker says real Ciel is "chock full" of such episodes. What's weird is how the most advanced bizarre dolls wear out (and can even collapse) when their blood levels go down or run out of nutrients. The less advanced bizarre dolls moved around without fresh blood... and sometimes big chunks missing. So, what makes these most advanced ones so reliant on the blood? Is it like an addiction?! Layla biting people because her cravings are so strong kind of suggests so.
Truth is, we don't know much about all the different techniques Undertaker is using now, on top of altering cinematic records and transfusing blood. There could be meds/drugs involved, since there was previous talk about a group doing drug development. Didn't Stoker say that's what the Osiris group was, a drug development organization?
So, the soul or "trace amounts" of soul aren't needed to keep the cinematic records going. It isn't even needed to make bizarre dolls talk and create new memories.
I'm not entirely sure blood has "trace amounts of soul" in it, despite what I said in the screenshot you captured. More like: what if the demon sucked up the blood seeping through and that drew the soul out, turned the blood into a conduit for the soul? Does that make any sense?
Idk. Perhaps the blood "naturally" has something in it that makes bizarre dolls feel like they are getting something soul-like out of it. Even Sebastian has been seen licking his own blood (circus arc), and s2's Claude reacts rather oddly to tasting the blood that splashes onto his face. 🤷🏻‍♀️ Whatever that something is, it definitely doesn't last. Perhaps if Undertaker could get their kidneys working again.... Maybe blood and soul interact within the body, and blood collected for transfusion doesn't take away from the donor's soul in any way, so not even trace amounts being removed, but that blood has some residue of another kind or some special quality, simply from having recently been in contact with a living soul. Again 🤷🏻‍♀️. There sure is the phrase, though: "heart and soul".
But the soul definitely has the essence of someone's true personality. They can be conscious without it, but they have no real conscience. Without that essence, their driving force (provided by episodes) is two-dimensional or superficial. They need souls for their full depth of character.
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marcholasmoth · 2 years
Text
OSRR: 2921
today i was real tired.
i got up and brought joel to work for his meeting but not before i had to double check what was reality. i had a dream this morning that joel got a message that said his meeting was canceled, and that he could work from home, so i could sleep in. my alarms were going off intermittently, so i couldn't distinguish the dream from reality, so around 7:20 i asked joel if it was real. he said no. i asked if we still had to get up. he said yes. i was sad.
after bringing him in, i came back and took a nap. it was just a little over an hour, but it was much needed.
got to work, worked with a student for two ish hours, had a meeting with other tutors and our supervisor and the library favorite (glenn) about possible ideas and other stuff for the coming semester. lots of good ideas. i had lots of bad ideas. only because they were good but they involved puns so that made them bad. like, a workshop for skills and coping with ADHD/ general inattention but not licensed i called a "focus group." had the idea to make things themed in weeks, pirates were one of them bc we have canvas (sails are canvas) and navigate (what you do) and being "on board" with your classes (self-explanatory). also a workshop on fighting procrastination called "now and later" and handing out the candy now and laters with the "and later" crossed out on each piece. see? all good ideas. but bad ideas.
i worked with a student for a while too, got her helped, and went off to see the kiddos. i worked with them for an hour and a half and went to get joel, came back, fixed my little backpack contents arrangement, attended class, got in more good comments that the professor once again said we're good ideas and good points to make, didn't really do research for my other class's paper because brain cells go brrrr, determined i was hungry, went out to get a burger and ice cream, had a lovely human experience at five guys, stopped for ice cream, and came back and watched a few episodes of the office before dying of secondhand embarrassment and coming up to bed.
for some reason it won't let me post two videos but i'll post them separately or type it out later. it was really funny.
anyway, it's bedtime. i'm fucking exhausted.
but also as i left to sign off from class, my professor had commented thanking me for being in class despite being tired. we finished early tonight, and as i went to go off, i said "community naptime, byeeee" and clicked exit. that was funny. i like my class.
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