#i've had two deaths in the family in a span of a week

[irxne]

this first month has been so shit... like the first two weeks were somewhat fine but this past week has been so shit! the next two ones will also be so bad too

#also work has been hectic bc of the changes that are happening #and currently i think they're going to promote someone from my team that i don't necessarily agree with #it's not that they don't deserve it it's that i think it's way to soon for them to be promoted to that position #nonetheless if it happens i'll be very happy for them #but these changes have been leaving me restless bc they happen and the company has no plans on how we're going to proceed #i know that stuff can change from day to nigh but i also know that in the midst of the change you can come up with a plan #and not leave people in the dark #i don't want to but i think i'll have to jump ship soon #also the shittiness isn't only from work #i've had two deaths in the family in a span of a week #funerals are always so hard too #m.txt

[abysswalkersknight]

I've had quite a field day reading the fics created by serenescribe & admiraltdevanto. Honestly they were so good that it was just what I needed to inspire me to complete a piece that's been stuck in my head for weeks. Granted you could probably see where I got the inspiration from though if anyone's willing to give advice I'm all ears. Other then that I hope you all enjoy!

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

‘I don’t remember siring a child. Especially a human one!’

Silver knew it was only a dream.

Not only that, it was a dream of the past. Lilia’s past.

Of course within the span of 400 years anyone’s perspective of things is bound to change somewhat. But when General Vanrouge declares that he would never start a family, it made Silver begin to wonder about his life back in Briar Valley, about all the times his father would spontaneously travel for days on end, for weeks even. At first Silver had no qualms about it, his father was an adventurous spirit and it was only natural that he shouldn’t want to be bound in one place for too long, and besides. 

Lilia would always return in the end, always with a warm welcome that even rivals young Silver’s 

‘Have fun, Papa! I love you!’ Silver would say every time his father went off on another journey, with a smile that Lilia would say could easily open a purse. He didn’t mind that his father never said ‘I love you back’ as he’d always return the sentiment with other forms of affection, a tight hug here, a little nuzzle there, maybe a little kiss. Still the meaning was there, or so Silver thought until they were all thrown into this whirlwind of a dream. He was seeing destruction everywhere, all because of these Silver Owls, it chilled his bones and Silver shuddered at the thought of sharing a name with these. These. Unpleasant people. 

Eventually he learns of the potential fate his Lord’s parents were about to face. His fury was not as loud or obvious as Sebek’s though he thought, how could anyone think to do that to an expecting couple, even though they are the enemy, that poor egg, who he knew would grow up into a lonely existence, with no parents, only a potentially distance grandmother and fleeting mentor, Silver could only mourn the loss of all the happy times his lord could’ve had had these interlopers stayed their hand. And then there was his father, in this dream they managed to save the Princess in time and rescue her spouse but that wasn’t enough for the General they soon realise. No he wanted to destroy the humans who dared attempt to kill Princess Mallenoa whilst she protects only her precious egg. 

Killing the Dawn Knight wasn’t enough. Lilia had to make sure there was no one left to lead another attack.

What came next was a flurry of Bloodshed horror, gore, screams of the dying and the furious, and the blade of a general who’d cut down anyone who got in his way. Then it came as a devastating shock to Silver when those very same people began to mistake him for another, for the one called the “Dawn Knight” oh how they thought he was there to grant them salvation only for those hopes to to be sorely crushed by the onslaught of fae following behind him, the other humans were not aware of the death of their hero. By now Silver and the rest stood inside a ravaged nursery. A beautiful cradle lay shattered to bits among torn curtains.

And in the general’s hand hung a bundle of blankets with its wailing occupant inside. 

He hadn't dwelt on it much, for how could he when everything had been so utterly horrifying and fast. But now as he glimpses a wisp of a silver lock within the bundle, events of the past age become more adamantly clear he could only put two and two together, and the truth made his knees collapse painfully as a nauseating illness overtook him. In the distance Sebek was paralysed in fear at the sight of Lilia dangling the blankets in a death like grip, glaring at the screaming child as if it were a disgusting insect he would so love to crush. 

Its just a dream. Its just a dream. Its just a dream, Silver kept telling himself, almost like a desperate prayer. That this wasn’t really what his father truly desired, a life where he still had his loved ones, a life where Silver never existed, possibly smited by the fae before him, the one who Silver has devoted his whole being to. 

Did he really love me? He thinks as he and Sebek watch in horror as the general moves towards the window, almost in slow motion with the blood of Silver’s kin dripping from every angle. It was only by the interference of Baul and Sebek that Lilia stopped with just throwing the bundle out like it was nothing more than a rubbish bag, Silver didn’t hear what was said next. He didn’t need to.

Silver’s eyes met the general’s and as soon as the recognition in his eyes gleamed, Silver was out the door, tripping over bodies and pools of fresh blood, ignoring Sebek’s cries for him. He didn’t know where he was going, he just needed to get out of there, away from what was now reality, a nightmare that he’ll never wake up from. 

In the distance there was a faint drip, drip, drip, and he blacked out.

‘Silver.’ 

A hand was stroking through his pale strands, something slimy and wet entangled in them and cooling his scalp. Fear grips his heart, with a startled yelp he smacks the hand away and throws himself in whatever direction his panicked mind fancied, all of a sudden he landed hard on a rough surface and he soon realised that he had suddenly woken up in the near comforting presence of his room. ‘Silver’ a voice murmurs hesitantly. Sliver choked back a sob. 

No, he thought miserably, please not him. The once comforting gesture of Malleus’s hand rubbing his back soothingly only filled his already shattered heart with a deadly anguish, did Malleus know any of this? ‘It must have been horrible to witness’ the prince whispers ‘I must apologise Silver, I would have conjured something else had I known any of this would happen.’ Silver says nothing, he was too afraid to turn his head, to turn and face the creature that was once his prince and beloved guardian. But a clawed finger grabbed his chin and gently tilted his head so he was staring into the cold green gaze of Malleus’s overblot ‘Silver’ Malleus repeats ‘did you forget how to greet your prince?’ There was no bite in his tone, only a knowing sadness ‘d-did he-’ Silver gasps ‘he really tri-tried to-’ he couldn’t bear the thought of finishing that sentence, everything hurts, it hurts! He crumpled to the floor in broken wails similar to the infant he had just seen, the anguish was crippling. Silver knew he shouldn’t be bawling his eyes out and choking on trapped words in front of the “enemy” but what else was he to do? He was already in Malleus’s clutches, both figuratively and literally as the overblotted prince had taken to wordlessly manoeuvring Silver into his lap and holding him close like he had done when the boy was younger ‘I don’t know’ Malleus answers at last ‘I had never really questioned why Lilia would take in and care for the child of our enemy but now I wonder…’ Silver’s breath hitched as he felt the prince’s grip tighten, was this it? Was this where Malleus takes vengeance for his parents? Silver wouldn’t blame him if he so wished for it. But then the fae reaches down to his belt and relinquishes Silver’s magic pen from it’s holster ‘fear not Silver, for how could I ever blame a child for the sins of their parents’ he coos dipping the pen to tilt up his chin. Silver is suddenly hit with a wave of utter exhaustion ‘wh-what they did was unforgivable’ he whispered hoarsely ‘how could I ever just continue as your knight after learning of the carnage they have wrought.’ How could I hope to save you from this overblot now if my family had set the path for it. The magestone was cool to the touch against his skin, he was so exhausted he curled into its cold embrace in hopes that it would lull him back into sleep. But what will that do? A voice whispers in his ear, you’ll merely end up back to Father’s dream, to a place where you are not wanted, to the reality that you can’t bear to face. 

I don’t care, he thinks back, I’m already in pain, but if I don’t help Fa-Lilia and the others wake up, and save Malleus, then what's the point?

If it brings them any solace then I will disappear from their very lives if I have too. For who will mourn the loss of a boy who was nothing but a reminder of past tragedies. ‘Oh what on earth are you thinking about dear Silver?’ Malleus says suddenly, brushing away Silver’s bangs from his face ‘don’t ever think you are like them. Don’t ever think you are like the Dawn Knight.’ Silver shivers when blot drips onto his face ‘for you are not the knight of Dawn Silver, you are the knight of dreams. My knight of dreams.’ Malleus peers down at him, a strange, gentle smile on his lips ‘do not think you are free from what your lineage has done, you have devoted your loyalty to me, yes? Your servitude shall act as atonement,’

‘Y-yes my lord, but-’

‘As you have said before, what they did was unforgivable Silver, I’ll still never blame you but for such transgressions, you’ll never be done atoning for their crimes. You’ll always be mine.’

Malleus’s words stabbed Silver in the chest, if he were in his right mind he would have protested to some degree. Though all he felt at the moment was total numbness. He’s right, What better use have I? Surely after this Lilia would be glad to be rid of me.

‘Why Silver, you have gone all pale and lifeless, you have truly been abandoned, haven’t you.’ the prince remarks, watching as the colour begins to fade from the young boy’s eyes. He begins to see the signs of what he was hoping for.

‘You feel it don’t you, Silver? The pain of abandonment and betrayal.’

‘No, you're wrong!’ 

‘Denial will only hurt you further, let it out child.’ 

Silver wanted to scream. Images of that wailing infant, the general’s cold look of disgust, watching as he was all too ready to toss the bundle out like rubbish. ‘It was only a dream, created by you! Father does love me!’ Malleus lifted an eyebrow ‘does he love you?’ he says as if already knowing the answer. The words die in Silver’s throat, he thinks back to all the times he’s said ‘I love you’ to Lilia, but never had them reciprocated.

Does he love you?

Something wet dripped from his eyes, Silver held his hand out, only to stare in shock as little drops of ink pooled between his fingers ‘how in the-’ Malleus didn’t reply, merely lifting Silver’s magestone up where he could see.

Blot. lots and lots of blot. So much blot that there was hardly a speck of colour left in the stone as it seemed to overflow, trickling down the baton ‘do you see now? It is inevitable,’ the prince explains, wrapping his arms around Silver once more, ‘just give in, child, how else are you to serve me?’

‘I-I-I can’t! I won’t!’ Silver wails, fear taking hold as he thrashes in Malleus’s grip. He can’t overblot. Not now! NOT NOW! ‘What do you have to lose Silver? Your father? You just claimed that he didn’t want you, perhaps he never did.’ the prince pinches him by the cheeks, making sure that he was staring into his eyes ‘but now there is someone who does Silver, all you need is to let go. Give in to the darkness’ Silver felt his eyes growing heavier by the second, no… he thinks, please, no more, just let this all end. ‘It will child, just let go.’

‘Embrace the darkness.’ 

Somewhere in a wonderful dream, an old general wakes up.

@serenescribe

@admiraltdevanto

#twst #silver twst #malleus draconia #lilia vanrouge #knight's writing #please tell me if anything doesn't make sense #seriously this is the first time I've done something like this and any tips are great #my first ever fic and it just had to be the angstiest shit I've ever written

[xoxoemynn]

Alluded to this post yesterday. Just some releasing into the void/explanation for potential quietness, cw: talk of terminal illnesses

In December 2021 my Aunt B lost a nearly 10 year battle with Alzheimer's.

Right around that same time my Aunt M was diagnosed with pancreatic cancer.

My Aunt M is one of the kindest people I know. She's also aggressively positive and leans heavily on her faith, so it can be difficult to get an accurate update on how she's doing.

However, it became clear in the past two weeks she has taken a turn for the worse. It's not at the point where the end is imminent, but the optimism for having more years with her is greatly diminished. She won't beat the cancer; it's just a question of how much longer her body can hold out.

My dad wanted to visit her before she got worse, so he went to see her this past weekend. I was his chauffeur to/from the train station. He came back looking very shaken. I don't think he was expecting her to be as weak as she was.

Last night Aunt M was admitted to the hospital with an infection. We don't have much in the way of updates yet.

While he was gone, I was also going back and forth to my mom's. She has a number of physical ailments herself, including some daily care she can't tend to herself. It took a lot of coordination/trust for her to be able to be without my dad for a few days and for me to take care of her.

To top it off, Aunt B's widower, who was diagnosed with lung cancer back in 2003 and given a year to live but managed to keep on kicking, opted in the past week to stop chemo and enter palliative care.

Flip side, my 104 year old great aunt is still going strong and told my 76 year old dad he looks very young. She had TMNT on while my dad visited her.

All this is to say, it was a very heavy weekend. I was so busy for most of it that it didn't really hit me until Monday when things calmed down and now I've just walking around in a cloud of sadness. To be clear, I was never super close with my aunts/uncles, although, like I said, my Aunt M is just outrageously kind and her diagnosis was heartbreaking. But I especially feel horrible for my dad, who's probably losing both of his younger sisters in a span of a few years. I'm thinking a lot about my own parents' mortality and what that means and how we'll take care of them once one of them goes. I'm extremely aware there's not really much that can be done, other than to make sure everyone knows they're loved and provide as much comfort as we can. There just seems to be this cloud of illness and death and sadness hanging over my family. It's.......heavy.

I took a last minute PTO today to decompress a bit, and I do overall feel like more of a human. But if I'm quieter in the coming [insert duration of time here], that's why. The sadness just feels inescapable right now.

#personal #humans are all just fragile beings in a vast world #I am sending you all extra love today #and thank you to all of you who have sent some to me #I'm sorry I haven't had the energy to respond individually but I appreciate you so much

[we-pay-for-everything]

I've watched all available episodes of Nancy Drew and am rewatching season 3 (can you tell I ship Nace), and here are some of my thoughts no one asked for:

The biggest plot twist was the reveal in season 3 or 4 that Nancy's mom hasn't even been dead for a year. It's fucking crazy how each season spans a few weeks?? You're telling me that in less of a year Nick and George fell in love, got engaged, and then broke up? And Nick's on his third relationship. Bess fell in love 3 times?? She loved the FBI agent, called Odette the love of her life and is now seriously in to the new girl? And how many boyfriends has Nancy had? Nick, Owen, Gil, Park, and soon Ace? Plus she had a thing with the other detective? And now Ace is the love of her life? Carson really started dating that cop as soon as his wife died and is now seriously dating someone else? He's probably still paying for his wife's funeral. Do normal people move on this fast? Also, in less than a year the gang decided they would die for each other, unquestioningly? Intense.

Season 2 was a mess. Season 1 was legit fucking scary and the plot was amazing. After season 1 the show felt completely new. Season 2 was the worst because they did a whole concept change with the case of the week format, which imo didn't work. The episodes were all dry and there was nothing driving the story forward. Seasons 3 and 4 are a mix of seasons 1 and 2, with the episodes having some continuity and still standing on their own.

Season 2 also had the issue of Odette. I hated that storyline. The actress honestly did a very poor job. I couldn't connect with her at all. Season 4 is way better so far.

It's fucking weird how it was an issue when underage George dated Ryan (ewww), but Nancy (or the show) doesn't apparently see a problem with three grown-ass men being into a teenage girl? She's so smart but doesn't think it's inappropriate for them to date her? Especially the cops??

I'm sure Nancy gets on everyone's nerves, but she really has the unfortunate main female lead syndrome. She's insufferable most of the time. She's always getting everyone in trouble, never listens, puts herself and her cases first. When Ace got in trouble and asked her to solve the chocolate box riddle, she literally ignored him while he still asked about her case and told her to be careful. Although he was scared and in danger, he didn't mind being told no and stopped to talk with her. The hilarious thing is that she later solved the riddle in like 2 seconds lmao. The show takes it too far. She's smart but her photographic memory is ridiculous.

To be fair, the characters were also unfair to Nancy when they blamed them for their death curses in season 2. They said it was her fault because she was selfish, but they literally insisted on going with her to call on the Aglaeca. She told them not to.

Bess's best love interest was Odette. I didn't like the actress's performance, but it was cute anyway, and that one kiss they shared was magical.

I started noticing something between Ace and Nancy in season 2, and now I ship them, but it's also weird seeing them together. They fell in love even when they were dating other people?

One of the best lines in the show was when George's grandma said something like "It's not a path if it goes nowhere. That's a hole in the ground." Made me laugh the two times I heard it.

I wish the show had stuck with the season 1 format.

I shipped Owen and Nancy and he's still my second favorite boyfriend of hers after Ace.

Nancy saying Ace isn't letting her move on in season 4 is absurd. How is her stopping her??? But the dude shouldn't have let the ferret go just because he got jealous. He went through all that trouble just to catch it.

I still don't fully understand why George and Nick broke up.

I love Ryan and Carson's dynamic, and their dynamic with Nancy. It's like found family, with a twist. Ryan is Nancy's biological dad but he literally just found out and Carson raised Nancy but she's not his biological daughter. It's also cute how Ace is tight with Carson. He was really nice to him.

After Nancy absorbed all the lust in the chastity dress, she later said it was refreshing to just feel desire, but that was so cheesy. I'm sorry, but when does she not allow herself to feel desire? That girl is not repressed in any way - only emotionally.

I'm not super fond of George either. My faves are Ace, Bess, Ryan and Carson. Nick and George's sisters are cute too.

I had other things I wanted to say but I can't remember them...

Also, if anyone wants to chat about Nancy Drew, my ask box and "DMs" are open!

#nancy drew #cw nancy drew #ace nancy drew #george fan #bess marvin #carson drew #ryan hudson #ned nickerson #nace

[mywifeleftme]

227: Jim Sullivan // U.F.O.

U.F.O. Jim Sullivan 1969, Monnie

Jim Sullivan’s U.F.O. has become one of the best-known private press records of the late 1960s, thanks largely to the tireless efforts of Light in the Attic’s Matt Sullivan (no relation), who by his own admission became obsessed with Jim’s music and the mystery of his 1975 disappearance in the New Mexico desert. Backed by members of the Wrecking Crew, the session aces who served as Phil Spector’s house band, U.F.O. is a fine folk rock record that at times leaps up into something more (“Highways,” “Jerome,” “Sandman”). Since Jim’s finally received the flowers that eluded him in life, I wanted to use this space to highlight six lesser-known private press folkies you might also want to explore.

Tarp Clancy

The reclusive Clancy recorded a series of 10” EPs in the early 1960s at his rudimentary cabin studio in Muhlenberg County, the heart of Kentucky coal country. An elderly former miner who had lost most of his picking hand when a vial of nitroglycerine he was transporting ignited in his glove, Clancy homebrewed a mechanical strumming prosthesis. He would loop a cord around his neck that allowed him to cleverly control the tempo of his metal claw by moving his head and shoulder, though over time he began to suffer from nerve damage and light-headedness from the way it constricted blood flow to his brain. The EPs, recorded solo on acoustic guitar and dulcimer, have a poignant jerkiness to them that matches his lyrical obsessions with isolation, tribulation, and grisly industrial accidents. They were distributed in extremely limited quantities through ads in the local Baptist church’s circular and were forgotten until one of the discs was discovered by Brooklyn DJ Anathius Taylor at a goodwill while visiting his family home (Beechland Plantation). Clancy himself disappeared (nearly) without a trace sometime around 1970, though in 1985 a claw of his design was discovered buried under the Jefferson Davis memorial in Fairview, Kentucky during routine maintenance on the obelisk.

Key song: “Cold Fingers”

Remy “Mad Crawdad” Beauregard

Beauregard grew up in a vibrant 1920s Louisiana Cajun community and learned to play guitar from his father. His parents raised him to venerate Governor (and later Senator) Huey Long, and the day Long was assassinated was the day Remy Beauregard would say he lost his innocence. “It was like being told they killed Santa Claus,” he later wrote in his journals, “I felt all the magic and hope in the world drain from me in a matter of seconds.” Hopelessness drove the young man to street crime, joining the infamous Les Gamins gang, and he soon ran afoul of the law. A boy called Remy Beauregard went into juvie, and a violent criminal called “The Mad Crawdad” came out, albeit one with a remarkable gift for the accordion.

Remy had a few close calls with greatness: after visiting 439 Baronne a few times, and even getting to jam with the legendary George Girard, Orin Blackstone made moves to begin recording the young man. Only two recordings survive, “Where, Mother?”/ “Dandelions” and “I've Got Nine” / “Life Will Screw You,” the latter an extremely rare shellac 10" thought lost for decades. Unfortunately, another run-in with the law hampered his burgeoning musical career, as Remy bludgeoned a man to death in a drunken bar fight, spending the next six weeks in prison. While in the slammer, Remy found Jesus, and upon his release the newly sober musician recorded the Forgiveness LP. It is a desperate and cynical record, the product of a self-loathing man seeking a salvation he knows he will never achieve. His sobriety would be short-lived, and he drank himself to death in 1957 having lived a life in near-complete obscurity. His final single, released posthumously, was titled “Why Did You Leave Us, Mr. Long?”

A career-spanning compilation is set to be released by Light in the Attic records in late 2024, titled Crawdad Sings! with liner notes by Dan Auerbach of The Black Keys. — D.J.C.

Key Song: “Life Will Screw You”

Jeramie Laramy

The Vietnam War inspired some of the most powerful protest songs of the 20th century, from “Eve of Destruction” to “Napalm Sticks to Kids.” But Jeramie Laramy stood virtually alone in 1975 when he sang the words “first my mother left me / with a man called Dan / then my country abandoned the brave people / of South Vietnam.” Laramy was a Canadian who renounced his citizenship and moved to San Francisco, California in 1967 in hopes of being drafted, but due to his complicated residency situation he was deemed ineligible. Referred to in Jerry Garcia’s memoirs as “a vicious simpleton,” he nevertheless took up the guitar and began busking, with primitive yowlers like “Mr. Saigon” and “Hippy Dachau” anticipating punk rock by nearly a decade. Laramy's music won him few admirers in the burgeoning counter-culture, but he was embraced by Hells Angels-affiliate Andre “Baby” Jane, who bought him studio time he used to record 1972's Jungle Mower LP, a commercial failure. After an intense, inadvertent psychedelic experience at the Berdoo Angels' clubbouse, Laramy's music became more abstract, culminating in the geographically-confused psych-folk double A-side “Seoul Stealers” / “I Wished Upon a Machine Gun.” He disappeared in 1976.

Key song: “I Wished Upon a Machine Gun”

Liesl Eddy

Alan Lomax called Liesl Eddy “the only woman prison singer who mattered.” Mississippi Fred McDowell called her “that miserable mute bitch.” Eddy was no one’s idea of a sweetheart, but even a cursory scan of her biography makes plain why she had to be tough. Raised Liesl Edzurbriggen by stern Swiss-German Calvinist tenant farmers in dustbowl-era Kansas, her parents forbade her from speaking in the belief that the family was being spied upon by papists. As she aged into young adulthood, Eddy’s muteness brought her into frequent, violent conflict with townsfolk in the nearby community of Arkansas, and she was eventually sentenced to eight years in prison after braining a local furrier with a cast-iron skillet.

Despite suffering from Marfan syndrome, Eddy was tremendously strong, and there was concern that she was too dangerous for women’s prison. Thus, in 1934 she became the only female inmate at Georgia’s notorious Lillyfold Penitentiary, where she worked breaking rocks on a chain gang. It was in prison however that Eddy’s unusual vocal talents were discovered. Despite her continued refusal to speak, she possessed a deep, southern-accented singing voice, and it was said that she alone could drown out a 20-man gang. Certainly it’s her lungs that stand out on the Lomax-recorded album of chain gang songs and spirituals Let Us Be Released (From Her) (1937), on which the tension between Eddy and her fellow prisoners is palpable.

Following a violent brawl that saw six men injured, Eddy was moved to solitary confinement, where Lomax was able to convince prison authorities to allow her use of a cigar box guitar. Eddy’s surprisingly vulgar, raunchy country blues tunes like “Hogmeat Driver Rag” and “No’ Mo’ Cone Pone” led the blushing musicologist to suppress her recordings for decades, though due to a clerical error “Liesl’s Idyll” was included on some early pressings of Lead Belly’s Negro Sinful Songs in 1939 before the mistake was noted. Eddy’s trail goes cold after her release in 1942, but following Lomax’s death her work was rediscovered. Her catalogue was issued for the first time in 2015 as Sugah On Mah Tongue: The Silenced Sessions on Lena Dunham’s Muff Trade Records.

Key song: “Liesl’s Idyll”

Cleodora Thanks

Raised by roving bead peddlers in Michigan’s Upper Peninsula, Cleodora Thanks relocated to Greenwich Village in the late 1950s and founded a rooming house where a number of the brightest names in folk music spent time, including Bob Dylan, Dave Van Ronk, and Horace Plenty. Although her cooking was so noxious Laura Nyro was reportedly briefly hospitalized by a casserole, Thanks was regarded as a mother figure by many of her tenants. Dylan made her the subject of his unreleased song “Big Momma I Don’t Know Blues,” while Joan Baez has claimed Thanks made uncredited contributions to a number of early Joni Mitchell songs. Thanks’ own culinary-obsessed music, which joins the earthy blues of a Bessie Smith with the subtlety of Bette Midler amid hints of gypsy jazz and klezmer, was largely unknown in her time, and she vanished in 1983 on her way to a state fair near Syracuse. New York-based archivist Karl Nard of Swede Nothing Records discovered a cache of unsold LPs in the basement of Thanks’ former rooming house after his uncle purchased the property. Thanks' soon to be reissued work represents a crucial missing lunch in the story of mid-century American folk music.

Key song: “Peanut Brittle Elegie”

Jimmy Whaley the Folk-Song-Singing Crocodile

Jimmy Whaley was a crocodile that sang folk songs. Believed to be an urban legend for years until his existence was confirmed by Desmond Morris, the man who discovered an elephant who could paint and made a BBC documentary about how women don't know what bicycles look like and desire horses. As Jimmy was only able to speak English while singing, most of what we know of his life is what has been parsed from those songs that have been tentatively identified as autobiographical. He was probably born in the Nile River, before stowing away in a cargo ship in the Suez Canal and making his way to Boston, and then the Appalachians, where he lived and sang for locals with a banjo he plucked with a back claw. His life was cut short when he was tragically shot after being speciesally profiled as an alligator by a poacher in East Texas. His remains are displayed at the Stephen Foster Folk Music Center in Chattanooga, Tennessee, in the form of a handbag. An anthology of Jimmy's early work comprising several selections from the Great American Songbook, AmeriCroc, is forthcoming from Smithsonian Croakways Records. — D.J.C.

Key song: “America (My Country 'Tis of Thee)”

Prepared with the assistance of D. John Christie, Osgoode Hall Law Special Collections

#jim sullivan #'60s music #private press #'60s folk #folk #tarp clancy #cleodora thanks #liesl eddy #remy beauregard #jimmy whaley #light in the attic #jeramie laramy #vinyl record #music review #this is so stupid #the wrecking crew

[celestialpotat0]

Oct-Nov up until thanksgiving will be a time to focus on appreciating the good in the mundane, as I am not taking any pto throughout this time. in a span of 8 weeks, there are only 3 instances during this time when i have two consecutive days off.

had received two handmade necklaces from patient's family, before he had transitioned to hospice. back when there was still the hope and the fight. i wont go into details, but eventually cancer hadn't responded fully to chemo and wouldn't have been able to tolerate the required chemo and wasn't a candidate for another stem cell transplant, plan shifted to focus on comfort care. after that, i trained myself/mentally prepared for when my patient would pass away. the only way to get through this job is to desensitize oneself. can't let it affect you, can't think about it too deeply, have to push away thoughts and emotions. otherwise, if i really allow myself to feel the pain of every single person's death, i would be in deep grief and depression.

but i clasp tightly onto the necklaces, determined to remind myself to appreciate my chance to live. life is extremely unfair. and i happen to be so lucky. there is grief when i look at and hold the necklaces, but there is also beauty in their gift. that a family who experienced so much sadness would still take the time to brighten the lives of others, and their gift improves me and my life.

in washington, while my friends were indoors, i stayed outside and danced with my friend's aunts, uncles, cousins, parents. they were dancing to latin bangers and that's where i wanted to be. it's true the best things in life are free. i loved connecting to others via music and movement. the sheer joy of simply moving to latin music was an opportunity to embrace connecting to strangers. indoors, they were connecting via conversation, which is totally valid as well. but at that particular time, i preferred dance and music as my means to find our common humanity.

it brought back memories of my 20s in LA when a number of my Mexican friends would have parties. we'd stand in circles in their backyards and blast music and we'd just dance the entire time, and there was always Latin music (interspersed with hip hop and 80s). those were some of my best memories of my 20s because we all loved to dance and sing along and live in the music. then there i was in 2023 dancing to some of the same songs except this time in a different state with strangers who were mostly Ecuadorean (among other Latin American countries of origin) instead of my Mexican friends from LA. yet no matter where we are from, the shared joy from dancing can bring us together. also, specifically in your friend's backyard, everyone there is someone you can trust and feel safe with, not necessarily true in a club.

saw a garter snake on a hike. they're very common and i've seen them before, but i always treasure seeing wildlife that i dont get to see everyday. guided tour in the Museum of Flight was another memorable point.

Angel Island was amazing and it was moving to be in the same place where the Chinese Exclusion Act was enforced and played a major role in the Asian experience there. i was inspired by the Chinese immigrants who endured so much there and the myriad of emotions they must've felt arriving there. the racism they had to face. segregation, interrogation, deplorable conditions. ill have to write another time about when i witnessed racism affecting my dad.

learned to play bocce for the first time on saturday night, my friend has a bocce court where he lives. hooray for learning new fun games.

little moments of summer that i appreciated: sipping on gin and tonic assembled at home by the pool with no plans for a few hours in the early evening. feeling myself getting stronger in regards to workouts. barbecues, craft cocktail fairs, dinners, walks with good company. the peace and quiet of having respectful neighbors and being able to sleep for 10+ hours a day on some days.

[devolawrites]

I originally posted this on Twitter, and tbh I'll probably get the worst cringe in a day and delete the thread and this as well but I need people who have commissioned fics from me or at least know my writing to know what the actual mcfuck has been going on with me lately.

Re: status of my fic comms right now.

It's not that I haven't been honest with people, I have been, but probably not as honest bc I haven't been too honest with myself either? I am working on them. They will be finished. I guarantee that. But... I have very high expectations for myself. Ones that are, most likely, unrealistic. I am genuinely running on fucking empty right now and have been for the better part of six months now. Not that I was much better beforehand but it's been the worst in the past 6 months.

I'm very open and honest about being physically ill with fibromyalgia and endometriosis. Chronic migraines. Asthma. Spinal issues and the like. I also have bipolar disorder, ADHD, OCD, C-PTSD and, while not diagnosed, am likely touched by the tism as well. As such, I take (or I should say am supposed to take) a lot of meds daily. I haven't been able to take them bc I've been getting violently ill immediately after taking them and no one can figure out why! I also work full time and have been attempting to finish my masters.

That, right there, is baseline 'what the fuck mary take some time to yourself' but, lol. lmao, even. Then my life fell apart in March. How so?

In the span of one week: someone I considered a family member passed away. I finally allowed myself to be open to someone about how I felt after two horribly abusive situations only to get the kindest, gentlest thing ever said to me while also being turned down INTENSELY. And then found out not even 10 minutes after said FAMILY-ZONED (not even friend zoned FAMILY ZONED do you know how weird it is to tell someone you have feelings for them only to get told 'oh i see you like a sister i've never had' and just wanna die) that your best friend died.

Via fucking Facebook message.

And then that week also be the one year anniversary of my Nana's death which I'm sure still was malpractice but we'll never know for sure and I'm still bitter about it. Needless to say, I spiraled. Very badly.

I was already stressed from paying for fixing my car and finding myself needing the extra money from comms more and more and piling on more work on myself bc lmao bills and making my back log even worse and now I felt horrifically alone and vulnerable and embarrassed. And, to be sure, I still did put work out. But I also struggled with a lot of comms that I genuinely had been excited to take on only to find myself just... unable to do them. For one reason or another. Writers block? Feeling like it wasn't meeting expectations?

I'd ask other writers for help. For suggestions. For feedback. For other angles to approach shit. And I got fantastic advice. And still, nothing budged. I literally had burnt myself out and was still trying to run on empty. On fucking fumes. And I still am. And, I'll be honest, it also did sorta sting when I'd finally get work posted and then I'd just... idk. Feel like it flopped. Either with the person who comm'd it or with people in general and that's bc of how Twitter's algorithm hates creators but it's hard to not internalize.

And it made wanting to write and wanting to work on things so much harder because it became less and less about wanting to do something I genuinely enjoy and wanting to smush yalls Barbies around and felt like an obligation with no reward. And that's not yalls fault, truly. But I internalize that shit really hard and take it as a 'you're not doing this right, no wonder people would prefer others write shit and not you, you can't keep up the schedule you made for yourself.' Which is why my timeline even changed in March.

I tried to make a more realistic turnaround time, with the same disclaimers. I even mentioned to people that they'd be on a WAITLIST. And I still feel like I'm not working fast enough. Not because of any pressure from those who have paid. But my own brain. And it sucks.

Because it's making me spiral and making it even worse and it's a snake eating its own tail because if I can just get out of this fucking cycle of doubting myself and feeling like it's not gonna be worth it, I can conquer this shit. I owe so many people so much and I just... I feel horrible. I know that I should refund like, most if not all of you at this point. I just haven't had the funds to be able to do that, tbfh. I only just was able to get caught up on bills these past 2-3 checks. And if you want a refund, please, tell me! I'll do it!

But I think once this batch I have currently listed on Trello is completed, I'm closing comms for a good fucking long while. And learning how to actually enjoy my writing again. Because right now, I don't. I don't enjoy sharing my work and getting no boosts. No comments. Kudos are nice, don't get me wrong, and I love every single kudos that I get, when I get them. But it's hard to not let the self doubt and self critique fester. And again, this is not any of yalls fault. It's my own. And I don't know how to fix it, tbh.

So, once these comms are up, it's gonna just. Stop. I'll probably work on my own stuff, but I didn't even do any of the ship week content that I wanted to do (wolchefant, wolcred, wolmeric OR wolstinien) because I didn't want to upset those who I owed work to.

So, that's the state of me as a fic writer right now. It's more theory than practice, at this point, and I'm just... I'm trying, I really am. I have so many drafts in my google docs right now and I hate everything I've written so much that I'm starting from scratch every time.

Which is why the Trello has, for the most part, stood still. I'm not blowing you guys off. I just genuinely have nothing to show. And I'm sorry.

#literally crying writing this bc i hate feeling like a disappointment and a failure #but i am!!! i am letting people down and it sucks!!!

[brendanthestrange]

What's Happened Whilst I've Been Gone

CW/TW; Unaliving mention, hospital / medical talk, mental health episode/s, medication, stalking, harassment.

So, it's been a hot minute since I posted and that's because I've just been trying to process and think of how to word what happened whilst I haven't been posting. My last post was very vague but it's because I wanted to take a break from social media and... well, hide. I was only active on discord, talking to my friends and the people I trust. But before we get into that I should probably talk about things in order.

In a previous post, I mentioned having a week long BPD / EUPD episode and needing to stay with friends. I got worse. It got so much worse. February was a very tough month, as everything that could happen to ruin me, did. I ended up having to stay with my friend (R) and her family for nearly two weeks.

During those two weeks, I was feeling very sui//cidal and whilst R and her family know I fear death too much to do something, they were concerned that this time was different and that I would do something. R's mum was a professional chef and has top-of-the-line kitchen knives, they were hidden from me, as was any bleach or toxic chemical. Eventually, things got too much and I tried to have myself sectioned.

Sectioning is where you are in a mental hospital for constant monitoring and support. I had been told by a friend that you can actually section yourself, you don't need someone to take you. However, when I arrived at the hospital, they refused to take me because of where I live - my area was out of their field (which in my opinion is ridiculous). They were also incredibly disrespectful - I sat there in tears, telling them how much I wanted to die and they found things to laugh about (not about me, but still) and so I left.

Sitting in R's mum's car, I told her "It seems I have to be ready to do something to get help."

Truth be told, R and her family are one of the things that keep me going everyday. She's my childhood best friend and now is my best friend in my adulthood. I'm very grateful to have them in my life and I cannot thank them enough for the support they give me during my times of need.

Eventually, I was seen by my local crisis team who I also cannot thank enough - without them, I dread to think where I'd be right now. They offered me therapy, psychology sessions and started me up on a new medication called Olanzapine. Thing is with Borderline Personality Disorder, it can't be medicated - it's a condition that is benefited by therapy, but not CBT therapy that most places will offer. BPD is helped by a type of therapy called Dialectical Behavioural Therapy, "‘Dialectical’ means trying to understand how two things that seem opposite could both be true. For example, accepting yourself and changing your behaviour might feel contradictory. But DBT teaches that it's possible for you to achieve both these goals together." (cited from the link embedded).

However, Olanzapine has proven to be a wonderful help to my BPD - my episodes are less intense and last for a short span of time, my sleep is getting better in being at a regular, earlier time - all that fun stuff. Unfortunately, I do still suffer with realistic, intense dreams and nightmares.

Moving on. During this period of time, I was somewhat dating someone who we'll call E. E and I had a difficult relationship as we were never officially boyfriend/girlfriend status, just "seeing each other" as we Brits put things. This was because E was in the process of divorce and their ex would stop them from seeing their kids if they found out E was starting to see someone. At first, I understood and wanted them to prioritise their kids but soon then realised that things were never going to seem to move healthily - I was always going to be a secret. I called things off with E, explaining I wanted their kids to be number one, I felt like they were still in love with their ex but I still wanted to be friends as we got along well and had similar interests after some time to myself to deal with current personal affairs.

E understood and accepted what I said... or so I thought. Whilst talking with R's mum about everything, E called me. Usually E only calls me if something's happened.

"Would you come and meet me if I was nearby?"

E had turned up at my best friends house. E knew where R lived as they had walked me there on one occasion but luckily, they had forgotten which one was R's house. Taking R's mum with me, I met them at the end of the street - I told them that this was creepy and that I wasn't comfortable with them just turning up to my SAFE SPACE UNANNOUNCED, they then said that they had lost custody of the two younger children. Why? Because they told the ex about me AFTER I CALLED IT OFF.

I told them that it was a bit silly to do that, especially now that I had called it off with them. I told them I wasn't interested in pursuing anything with them and that because they had turned up unannounced, I was extremely uncomfortable. After parting ways, I had received tumblr messages, emails and tiktok DMs from them begging for me back because they realised too late that they actually loved me and wanted something.

I called the police. I had asked for space and that was disregarded, I then asked for cut contact and that was disregarded as well. All of this was stalking and harassment. The messages on the socials were incredibly concerning, especially "Love makes you do stupid things like break boundaries."

[shudders]

But yeah, I might have missed a few things but this is the main of what happened whilst I was gone. I've also moved house and now have a new laptop so hopefully I can keep things updated a bit more frequently now. Thanks for taking the time to read this <3

#brendanthestrange #brendans brain #borderline personality disorder #bpd #emotionally unstable personality disorder #eupd #mental #mental health #mental wellbeing #mental instability #anxiety #depression #autism #asd #autism spectrum disorder #autism spectrum condition #adhd #adult adhd #mentally unstable #mental illness #awareness #emotional dysregulation #pstd #post traumatic stress disorder #mental problems #struggle #stress

[redrisingsun]

Swedish Holidays for all your Young Royals needs

Due to popular demand (by like five people) here’s a brief description of all the major Swedish holidays and how they’re celebrated because I can’t stand here and pretend as if we really celebrate Christmas the 25th. We have more holidays, I've only written about the ones we celebrate in my family. I come from a working class family and live in Southern Sweden, however I do have family in Stockholm. I'm not religious in any way and as far as I know, most families don't celebrate these holidays because they're religious, but because it's tradition.

yall better appreciate this, it took me literal hours

January

1: Dubbed as one of the collective pizza days in my household. It's the day after New Year, and most people either order in or eat leftovers.

Week 2 or 3: Most people return to their jobs, schools and other daily activities.

February/March

Fettisdagen ("Fat Tuesday"): celebrated 47 days before Easter. The actual date varies, all from early February to early March. It's an old Christian tradition where you'd eat fatty foods before the "before Easter"-fast and is supposedly a thing in other Christian countries as well. These days, most people celebrate by eating semlor with their family, and most don't fast before Easter.

The semla is a sweet bun with whipped cream and almond paste.

Våffeldagen (Waffle Day, 25th of March): I think this day stems from a Christian tradition, but these days the day is mostly to get together with family and eat waffles.

April

Påsk (Easter): Again, the date varies, but Easter is usually in April. Easter stems from Christianity and is celebrated to remember Jesus' death and resurrection. Easter spans over a week, but I personally only celebrate one of those days.

Påskafton (direct translation: Easter Eve, English translation: Holy Saturday) is the Saturday of the Easter week. In my family, the children get to look for Easter eggs (often filled with candy).

Some children also dress up as Påskkärringar (Easter crones) and I think this tradition has to do with the Witch Trials in Sweden, but I'm not sure. Chances are you won't need to know anything about this for your Young Royal fics, because mostly girls dress up.

Sometimes, we decorate eggs.

Later, we sit down to eat together and spend time with our families. Common things to eat for Easter is potatoes, eggs, herring and meatballs.

Valborgsmässoafton (Walpurgis Night, 30th): We burn a big bonfire in the evening to celebrate that spring is here. I live in a fairly small town, so mostly everyone gathers at one spot and burns the fire together. When the bonfire is burned, most people go home and that's it. It's also seen as a reason to have a party (mostly for teenagers and young adults, I think) and get drunk as fuck.

May/June

Sveriges Nationaldagen (Sweden's National Day, 6th of June): Most people are home from school and work. We hoist the Swedish flag. Idk. However, the Royal Family celebrates by getting dressed up in Swedish costumes. This year, the King held a speech and the family went to Skansen (which is an amusement park/zoo. You can read more about it here). There's music and the military does their weird little thing. You can watch the National Day Celebration on Skansen from 2014 here.

Midsommarafton (Midsummer): date varies, but is celebrated a Friday in late June. I'm sure there's a Christian explanation for this one, but I don't personally know it.

Midsommar (midsummer) means middle of the summer.

Again, this is a day to eat and spend time with your family (or drink, depending on who you are). We eat pretty much the same things for Midsummer as we do for Easter.

For Midsummer we also dance around a Midsommarstång (direct translation: Midsummer Pole, English translation: Maypole) and make flower crowns.

How Midsummer is celebrated depends a lot on your age (most teenagers and young adults again see this as a reason to party), where you're from and a million other things.

My personal favorite Midsummer tradition is probably more common in the country than in the city, for example. You're supposed to pick seven different flowers without saying a word. Then, you sleep with the flowers under your pillow. Supposedly, you'll dream of your future husband (or wife! But I think it's more common that women and girls do this). This tradition also varies. Some people say you need nine flowers and some people say you have to climb over fencing for it to count.

Some teenagers or young adults spend time with their friends to party, instead!

You can watch part of a Midsummer celebration at Skansen here.

The Royal Family usually celebrate Midsummer privately, but I think there's usually new pictures of the entire family around this time.

Day after Midsummer: Collective Pizza Day 2. Everyone either eats takeout or leftovers because no one can be bothered to make anything and like half of the population has the worst hangover they've had since New Year.

Summer Holiday Note: most people in Sweden have four weeks of paid leave each summer.

July/August

Kräftpremiär (Crayfish party) - date varies, normally early August. Basically people get together to eat crayfish and drink. You can usually get paper plates and plastic cups and whatever with ugly crayfish motives (which is fun), but I've never done this.

October

Halloween (30th): Halloween is nowhere near as big in Sweden as it is in the States. We just buy some lösgodis ("loose candy", where you can throw whatever kind of candy you want in a bag. See pictures). Trick or treat is so unusual in the town I grew up I've only ever had one kid ask for candy and when I celebrated Halloween with my grandparents (in a city not far from Stockholm), it was the same. I usually buy some candy and watch a horror movie, but that's about it.

However, Halloween is (again) a reason for teenagers and young adults to drink and party.

November

Alla Helgons Dag (All Saints' Day): Date varies, usually early November. It's a day to remember the dead and we usually light a candle at the grave yard.

December

Första Advent (First Advent): Date varies. Sunday four weeks from Christmas Eve. We mostly just light a candle, honestly. Then, each Sunday for the next four weeks, we light a candle. Here's actually the Crown Princess wishing Happy First Advent with her family! Unfortunately without English subtitles, but here's the translation: "Today is the First Advent. Advent means arrival and hope, something that feels extra important this year. (her husband lights the candle) We want to wish everyone a happy first advent!"

Andra Advent (Second Advent): date varies. We light the second candle.

Tredje Advent (Third Advent): date varies. We light the third candle.

Fjärde Advent (Fourth Advent): date varies. We light the fourth candle. In my family we usually decorate the tree this Sunday.

Julafton (Christmas Eve): Celebrated the 24th. YES, THE 24TH. Christmas Eve obviously varies from family to family, but there's a few things most people have in common. Usually, we get one gift in our sock (which hangs on our bedroom doors in my home, because we don't have a mantle) when we wake up. As kids me and my brother almost always got a movie or something to keep us busy until it was time to leave for our grandparents house.

For lunch we eat the Christmas dinner. It's the same damned food as our other holidays. Herring, meatballs, potatoes, sausages etc, but now, we also have julskinka (Christmas ham). Some people eat ham even for Easter, but we only really eat it for Christmas in my family. Obviously the food varies a little from season to season, but as a picky eater I always just eat potatoes, meatballs and ham.

At 3, Kalle Anka (Donald Duck) is on. Yeah, we watch the same damned stuff every year. It's tradition, alright? Anyway, Donald Duck lasts for an hour or so, and first you get to see Santa work in his workshop, then Disney characters wish you a Merry Christmas with scenes from their movies (original, I know). There's Lady and the Tramp, Donald Duck (obviously) and a million other things. Then there's also one or two trailers for movies Disney will release the coming year. I really couldn't be bothered to find everything on YouTube for you to watch, sorry!

After Donald Duck, we open the Christmas gifts in my family. Normally we just rip out gifts open lmao.

After opening the gifts, we usually eat a second time. This time it's time for porridge. Tomtegröt (Santa porridge) is sweet and often served with cinnamon. Usually, everyone is so stuffed at this point that you only eat because you "have" to eat porridge for Christmas (again, at least in my family).

The last thing we do in my family, is to get a puzzle out. My grandpa almost always gets a new puzzle for Christmas, so we'll put that on the dining table and work on it together until it's getting too late for us to stay.

The Royal Family usually release new pictures of the family for Christmas and wish everyone a Merry Christmas.

Day after Christmas: Not a collective pizza day! There's usually too much Christmas food left to be able to order pizza. Usually, we have Christmas food to eat for four-ish days after Christmas, and by then you're getting really tired of it.

Sometimes we watch something on television, but for the most part we just sit around and spend time together. I think the Crown Princess read something from the Bible this year? I'm not actually sure if the Royal Family go to the Christmas Service, but I don't think so.

Nyårsafton (New Year's Eve): last day of the year. We shoot fireworks, eat food and dessert and spend time with family. This day we normally eat something "fancy" or something you we don't usually eat.

At twelve, we go out to light some fireworks (or just watch fireworks). When that dies down, it's time for the cheese platter. My dad wants it, no one else ever eats from it, we still do it every single year because "it's not New Year's without it". When we've had the cheese platter, everyone go to sleep and that's that.

People obviously celebrate this differently, as well. It's not uncommon to go see your friends or have guests over, and some people party rather than have fancy dinner with their parents. I personally prefer spending time with my parents, because that's what New Year's is for me.

Some people give resolutions, but I think it's more common in the States.

Christmas Holiday Note: It's common for people to not work between Christmas and New Year's Eve where I'm from.

Some things you might want to know about the Swedish Royal Family and Sweden overall:

The Royal Family in Young Royals is not the real Royal Family (obviously).

The Royal Family usually spends time on Öland during the summers.

Chances are Wilhelm and his family live at Drottningholm Slott (Drottningholm Palace) and not Stockholm Slott (Stockholm Palace). Drottningholm is used as a home for the current King and Queen and is located west of Stockholm. However, the scenes where Wilhelm is home is shot at a palace called Stora Sundby Slott. I doubt Wilhelm and his family would live here if they were the actual Royal Family since it's used as a place for people to gather when they want to hunt for sport. However, if they truly live at Stora Sundby, it takes almost two hours to drive from Stockholm to the castle.

Bjärstad is AT LEAST two hours away from Stockholm.

Bjärstad to Stora Sundby Castle takes approximately an hour and a half by car, and between nine and twelve hours by bus. Which means these two boys can't just take a twenty minute bus to see each other.

Bjärstad to Drottningholm takes a little over two hours by car and four-ish hours by bus.

Bjärstad to Stockholm Slott takes over two hours by car and three and a half hours by bus.

Hillerska is shot at Kaggeholms Slott (Kaggeholm Palace), and is a hotel.

The age of consent in Sweden is 15, HOWEVER it's illegal to have sex with someone four or more years younger than you if you're not both over the age of 18. Let me illustrate: -Person A is 15 and Person B is 15. It's legal because both are 15. -Person A is 15 and Person B is 20. It's illegal, because there's a five year old gap between them. -Person A is 15 and Person B is 18. It's legal (but probably frowned upon), because they're both 15 or older and there's not a four year gap between them. -Person A is 18 and Person B is 30. It's legal, because both are 18 or older. Idk if this makes sense or if this is what it looks like anymore, but this is what it was like when I still went to school. Obviously people aren't going to run around and call you names if you happen to date someone four years younger than you (I know a girl who met a guy when she was 14 and he was over 20), but please, be mindful of this. Our age of consent doesn't give you a right to be weird and nasty to teenagers (yes, I'm talking about Edvin).

Also, the Royal Family have their own website, which you can find here. As far as I can see, there's more information on the Swedish page, but there's plenty translated to English. You can also read of the Swedish Royal Family and its history on the palaces's website, here.

All pictures have been taken straight from Google. I haven't used any sources, because this is shit I do every single year with my family. Feel free to correct me or add things you do, but keep it respectful, please!

Friendly reminder that I've simplified some parts of this to make sense, specifically the dates of the Advent celebrations.

If there's anything you don't understand or want more information on, you're welcome to contact me! I take pretty long to reply, but I'll definitely try to get back to you as soon as possible. Thank you!

#young royals #young royals netflix #yr netflix #yr #wilmon #please im begging you love this

[doodleybugg]

woah you were at the hospital?? are you okay? <33

mhm !! i'm fine now dw <3 uhm ig a little storytime is due hdhsj

tw under the cut for suicide attempt, death mention, cutting, anorexia

yep uh ig my overdramatic ass decided Easter was just the perfect holiday to off myself at ? i had been, still am, dealing with a LOT of stuff :// my brothers dad died in late february (i was supposed to be really close with him but leading up to his death ((he drank so much and died alone in his apartment)) i hadn't been answering his messages so it's literally all my fault that he's not here), my brother moved out around christmas, my OTHER brother moved out like two weeks ago, ed stuff hasn't been great (i'm gaining sm weight with the stress eating it's just ugghhg), and i've recently gone through a bad breakup that lost me all my friends, we'd been together for two years hhhhh. my grades are failing, and my relationships with my remaining family members (2 sisters and a mom) are VERY not good. i have four siblings and they all paired off with someone that wasn't me :// and my mom's just petty)

i couldn't take it anymore, it was too much all in the span of like 3 months which, honestly, idk if i still can handle it, so ykyk i grabbed a blade and slicey slicey :P it was my little sister who found me in the tub, and she's only 11 so i can't imagine what kind of trauma i'd just put her through, i can't imagine how scared she was when she got home from school and heard water running, but no hello. when she called my name and there wasn't an answer. when she opened the door and needed to see that. at such a young age, i can't believe i was that selfish, i didn't even think of her or her feelings. she called my mom and then the police, i wasn't dead which was what they called a miracle, and uhhhh i'm back :)

#loser!vents

[imaginationintowords]

Folklore [song series]

epiphany

Modern Day AU! Bucky Barnes x Natasha Romanoff; Steve Rogers x OC!Reader

Plot: Inspired by Taylor Swift’s new album Folklore. The story follows the timeline of Bucky and Elizabeth’s life throughout the years

[warnings: death]

word count: 3168

Age: 21 Year: Sep. 2015 Location: Brooklyn, NY

"So I was thinking, godparents," Bucky spoke up. He and Natasha were currently finishing setting up the baby's nursery in their new apartment.

They had found a nice two bedroom apartment in Brooklyn, much to Natasha's dismay. Bucky thought it was the perfect place to start their new little family. It was also about a 20 to 30 minutes drive to Bucky's work and University campus. His mom and stepdad had even offered to help them out financially for a bit, just as long as Bucky continued on his path to graduate with his Masters in Music Technology in the Spring.

Bucky had managed to finish his bachelor's and masters program in just the span of 4 years, a whole year earlier than originally planned. He was proud of himself, if there's one thing he hadn't screwed up yet, it was his education. He had fully devoted himself to his education the last four years and it clearly paid off. He had also managed to get a good paying job at a studio as an engineer. He had his whole future all planned out, the pregnancy might've been a curve ball at the beginning but with the help of his family and therapist, he was handling it all so well.

"Oh you don't need to worry about the godparents, I have it all figured out already," Natasha tells him as she folds baby clothes, "I picked Abigail and Dylan."

Natasha on the other hand had decided to put her education on hold. Deciding she wanted to be a stay at home mom, Bucky constantly made sure that that's what she wanted. And she insisted every time that she was "made to be a stay at home mom". So Bucky had to reluctantly allow her to make that decision. 

Which was one of the reasons why his parents had offered to help out for at least the first year or two, they had known their son was already stressing about finances, and trying to respect Natasha's decision. They figured two years would be a good enough time for the couple to build up their savings.

Bucky didn't like the fact that his parents were helping out with money, but he knew him and Nat wouldn't have been able to make it just on is current income alone. At least not until after he graduated, his boss had already promised a raise once he graduated, but that wasn't until May and the baby was due in the next two weeks.  He promised to pay his parents back every cent they gave him, but they told him to just focus on being a good father.

"Abigail and Dylan?" He questioned.

"Yeah," she shrugged her shoulders.

"The same Abigail and Dylan that showed up to the baby shower high, and proceed to get drunk, because and I quote 'babies are so boring'. That Abigail and Dylan?"

"Come on James, they were just joking, plus baby showers aren't necessarily the most fun thing in the world," she rolled her eyes.

"Can we at least each choose one godparent?" He suggested, "You can have Abigail as the Godmother and I can choose The Godfather."

"Like Sam?"

"No, not Sam. Steve," Bucky tells her.

"Oh, then no," she simply said, turning her back to him to continue putting clothes away.

"What's your problem?" Bucky asks annoyed, finally having enough of her attitude, "This entire pregnancy you've been against everything I've suggested."

"Hey, you got to choose Brooklyn," she turned around pointing her finger at him.

"Yeah because I couldn't fucking afford Manhattan Natasha," he stressed, trying not to raise his voice at her, "You didn't want to know the gender of the baby? Fine. You get to name the baby? Fine. You choose the color scheme of the nursery, fine. You choose the hospital. You choose the apartment. God damn Nat, I haven't done a single thing but pay for everything."

"And I thank-you for that," she rolled her eyes.

"But you don't," he shakes his head in disbelief over her reactions, "You haven't thanked me once. I get that you're carrying our child, and I'm appreciative of that. But god damn Natasha, show me some respect. Show my family some respect!

"You didn't thank my mom, Rebecca, or Keith for everything they've done for you. For us. And I can't keep making up excuses to defend you," he raises his voice a little bit.

"If this relationship is ever going to work, you need to be respectful. You need to stop being so selfish. I get this isn't easy for you, but trust me, this isn't easy for me either. But I agreed to do this. I am stepping up. I want to be a part of my child's life. And I want us to be together and be family," he calms down, "But if you continue to act this way. I won't stay in this relationship."

"You're just going to abandon us?" Natasha asks grabbing her belly, suddenly realizing the reality of the situation.

"No, I won't abandon you both. But we won't be together," he explains, "I will always be in my child's life. I will always be there for them. I'm not going to put my child through the same thing I went through growing up. I promised myself I would never do that."

"So if that means that you and I break up, then so be it Natasha, I'll do it," he tells her, "My child will not grow up in a toxic household."

"Okay," she agrees, tears in her eyes, "I promise I will be better."

"Don't promise me Nat, just show me."

Two and a half weeks later Bucky found himself rushing an in-labor Natasha to the hospital, it was a quick k10 minute drive from their apartment. He quickly called his mom as the nurses wheeled Natasha away, with Bucky following.

Bucky's mom arrives within the next 10 minutes, as the nurses begin to prep Natasha in her hospital room.

Bucky sent a quick text to Steve and Sam, letting them know it was showtime and that he'll call them once the baby is here.

"How's Mama doing?" The doctor asked while entering the room, quickly taking her spot at the foot of the bed to examine Natasha.

"It hurts," Nat cried, as Bucky tried to soothe her.

"I know, but unfortunately you were too far dilated when you arrived, that it's too late for the epidural," the doctor softly explains, "But the good news is I feel Baby's head, so it's time to go."

Natasha looked over at Bucky, completely scared.

"It's okay," he assured her, "I'm right here. Everything's going to be okay."

He leaned down an placed a soft kiss to her lips, helping her relax a bit.

"Ready?" The doctor looks up at Natasha.

"Yes," Natasha nodded, grabbing a hold of Bucky and his mom's hands on either side of her.

10 minutes later, a soft cry was heard in the room. Bucky quickly glanced over to where the doctor was had finished pulling the baby out.

"Congrats Mommy and Daddy, it's a girl," she announced.

"A girl?" Bucky whispered in awe, tears filling his eyes. He looked over at Natasha, who looked a lot paler in color.

"Nat?" He called out for her.

Her eyes fluttered shut, her limbs went limp, and all the monitors started to go crazy.

The doctor quickly cut the umbilical chord and handed the baby off to an awaiting nurse.

"What's going on?" Bucky panicky asked.

"Get them out," the doctor told a nurse, ignoring Bucky's question.

A nurse quickly escorted Bucky and his mom out of the room.

"She's going to be okay right?" He asked his mom, tears streaming down his face.

"I don't know honey," she honestly said, wrapping her arms around her son. She never thought the first hug they shared after him becoming a father would be like this.

She continued to hold him, soothing him as she made silent prayers pleading for Natasha's safety.

10 minutes later. The same 10 minutes it took for them to arrive to the hospital. The same 10 minutes it took Natasha to bring their daughter into the world, the door opened.

Bucky quickly pulled apart from his mom to see the doctor walking out of the room.

The doctor's face was filled with sorrow. Bucky's mom immediately put her head down, already knowing the outcome.

"How is she?" Bucky asked.

"Mr. Barnes, Natasha had a postpartum hemorrhage, due to issues with her placenta," the doctor carefully explains, "Unfortunately, there was too much blood loss. We weren't able to save her. She died."

Bucky immediately broke down, his mom quickly caught him. The doctor placed a reassuring hand on his back.

He quickly pulled away after a couple of minutes, "The baby. How's the baby?"

"She's good. They took her to get checked just as a safety procedure," the doctor tells him, "She's on the pediatric floor. Would you like to meet her?"

"Yeah," he says, then pauses, "What about Natasha?"

"We can come get you to say goodbye once we get her cleaned," the doctor tells him.

"Okay, thank you," he says.

The doctor takes him and his mom to the pediatric floor. The walk was silent. No one knowing what to say. Bucky was no longer crying, but he felt numb the entire short walk. The doctor knocked quietly on a door, before opening.

"Doctor Monroe, this is Mr. Barnes, the baby's father," the doctor said, before stepping aside to let Bucky in, "Mr. Barnes, I'll have someone come get you when it's time."

"Okay, thank-you," he nodded his head.

"Are you ready to meet your daughter?" Doctor Monroe asked, Bucky nodded his head.

"Meet your Daddy baby girl," the doctor said, gently handing the baby over to Bucky.

Bucky looked down at the small baby in his arms. He was instantly overcome with so many different emotions. The doctor walked out of the room, while Bucky's mom watched from outside threw the window.

"Hi baby girl," he whispered, sniffling back his tears, "You're so beautiful. I'm your dad. And boy am I lucky that you chose me to be your Dad. I always imagined this day would've turned out a lot differently. But life sure knows how to throw some real curveballs."

"Your mom would've loved you," he paused, letting it all sink in. His daughter will have to grow up without a mother. No little girl should have to be without a mom.

"I'm so sorry," he cried, as the baby was lulled to sleep, "I am so sorry your mom won't be able to physically be here. I am so sorry you'll have to grow up without her. No one should have to grow up without a parent. And trust me, I know what that's like. But lucky for us, I had the greatest pleasure of being raised by the most strongest and kindest mother. She taught me everything I know. Your grandma is the best lady you will ever meet. Lucky for us because god knows we're going to be needing her a lot.

"But you and I are incredibly fortunate that we won't ever be alone. We have so many people who care about us. You'll have all the female leadership you can ever need. We can do this," he strongly said to the sleeping baby, "You and I. We can do this. And I promise you this, that no matter what happens, you will always have me. You're stuck with me for the rest of your life. My love for you is greater than anything, anyone I've ever loved. My love for you will always be easy and unconditional. You'll never have to prove your worth to me. You're worth more to me than you can ever possibly imagine. I love you."

Bucky placed a soft kiss to his daughter's forehead. The first kiss he will ever give her, but definitely not the last.

There was a soft knock at the door, he gently called for the person to come in.

His mom quietly opened and closed the door behind her, stepping to her son's side.

"She's beautiful," she smiled down at the little baby.

"She really is," Bucky beamed. He looked over at his mom and noticed she was holding a clipboard, "What's that?"

"Birth certificate," she tells him, "One of the nurses gave it to me. They said there's no rush to fill it out. You have time."

"Here, I can do that," he said gently holding the baby out for her to take.

"Are you sure?" She asked, switching with him.

"Yeah, I have a name anyways."

"What is it?" She looked over at the name written down:

Poppy James Barnes.

[flashback]

After that talk Bucky had with Natasha, he noticed a serious change in her attitude. She was beginning to be more relaxed and more selfless. Bucky felt a tiny weight lifted off his shoulder. Hoping that these changes in her personality would stay.

"So what do you think about James for a boy?" Natasha asked one night, as she and Bucky made dinner together in their small kitchen.

"For a middle name?" He asked confused.

"No, his first name."

"Oh," he paused, "I actually have never liked the idea of giving a child their parents' name. I feel like it doesn't really give them a chance to be their own person. If their parent is successful then they feel the stress of always having to live up to that. And if their parent is crap then they're forever stuck with that reminder of that person."

"That makes sense," she agreed, understanding where he was coming from,

"Then how about James for the middle name. Whether it's a boy or girl."

"I would actually really like that," he smiled at her, "I would like that a lot."

They gathered up their own plates, and sat at their small round table.

"So what other names have you come up with?" Bucky asked her as he took a bite of his chicken.

"Truthfully, I haven't found any good names. All the girls keep making suggestions and they're way too out there," she tells him, "I don't want them to have a name that's too hard to pronounce or spell."

Natasha's phone started to ring, Bucky got up to grab it for her from the living room. By the time he handed it over to her it stopped ringing.

"What kind of flower is that?" He asked her, noticing her phone's Lock Screen background.

"The California Poppy," she tells him.

"Why do you have that as your background?"

"Well my mom was actually from California," she says, "She met my Dad when they both went to Harvard. They fell in love, so she decided to stay out here on the East Coast.

"The only clear memory I have from her was all the stories she used to tell me about poppy season. How the color just made everything so lively. Her parents would take her every season. I remember seeing all the photos of her as a child surrounded by all the flowers. We looked a like as children," she fondly smiled,

"She always talked about taking me to go see them, but she and Dad were always so busy. Then she got sick and there just wasn't a way for us to go. My grandparents tried to get some out here but it was too late. I never did get to see the poppies."

Natasha was silent for a moment, letting what she said sink in. She's never told anyone that story before, the memory would always make her sad. But now sitting here with Bucky, pregnant with their child, for the first time in her life her mother's death didn't bring her such sadness. She could smile at the memory and know she had the utmost best time with her mother, even if it was short lived, she knew her mother loved her. And she can't wait to shower that love onto the baby inside of her, once they were out.

"We should go," Bucky says, "Once the baby is here we should go when it's poppy season. Plus it'd be nice seeing Steve and Liz's life out west."

"Yeah, that sounds nice," her eyes teared up, seeing how generous this man was in front of her, "I'd really love that."

"Poppy, that's cute," Winifred smiled.

"Yeah, Nat would've loved it."

"They said if you were ready, you can say your goodbyes," she carefully said.

"Okay, you're good with her?"

"Yeah. Do you want me to go with you? The nurses can watch Poppy."

"No. I'd feel much better if she was with family," he tells her, "I'll be fine mom. I can do this."

He gave her a kiss on the cheek before leaving the room.

"Take all the time you need," the nurse told Bucky, as she led him to the room Natasha's body was in.

"Thank you," he quietly said.

She opened the door for him, and he carefully stepped inside.

He walked closer to the body on the bed. He immediately started crying at the sight of her lifeless body.

"God Nat," he cried, "I am so sorry. We never even discussed the possibility of this ever happening. I never even thought of this happening. God I don't know how I am going to ever do this alone. I never imagined myself ever raising a child alone."

He takes a moment to catch his breath.

"She's beautiful Nat, so incredibly beautiful," he tells her, "I wish you would've been able to see her. Hold her. I'm going to make sure she knows everything about you. There's not going to be a day where she doesn't know about her mother."

"When poppy season arrives I'm going to make sure to take her. Every year," he wipes away a tear, "Oh, I also named her Poppy. For you. For your mom. I promise I won't let you down. She's going to have the best life ever. I'll make sure of that. Thank-you for everything you've given me. I truly did love you. Goodbye Natasha." _________________ Age: 22

Location: CA

Year: May 2016

The car comes to a stop, parking in a spot next to a bunch of other cars. Bucky, Liz, and Steve get out of the car. Steve and Liz grab a few things from the trunk, while Bucky gets the smiley baby out of the car seat. Bucky places the baby into the stroller, Steve had gotten out. The three of them began to walk towards the field of poppies.

"Wow, there's a lot this year," Liz says, "Do you want to take her out?"

"Yeah, I'll grab her," Bucky says grabbing Poppy.

He walked ahead of Liz and Steve, taking in the moment with his daughter.

"Look at all the poppies," he whispers to the almost eight month old. She had a huge smile on her face taking in the sight around her.

She was making some babbling sounds, as if to agree with her dad.

The weather was perfect. The sun shining down on them, it wasn't too hot or too cold. Bucky just stared at the flowers, with a peaceful feeling washing over him. The last few months haven't been the easiest, but he was making it. They both were making it. Being here, gave him the reassurance that he was doing good. He could feel Natasha's presence with him there. As if she was silently saying how proud she was of him.

"We're going to be fine," he said to Poppy, placing a kiss on her head.

#folklore #epiphany folklore #folklore song series #steve rogers fanfiction #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky x natasha #bucky barnes x natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff angst #natasha romanoff fanfiction #bucky barnes angst #bucky barnes fluff #original character series #steve rogers x original female character #steve rogers x original character #bucky angst #angst #fluff #bucky fluff #bucky barnes #modern au #modern day au #bucky barnes modern au #bucky barnes modern day au #bucky barnes modern day #avengers modern day au #folklore taylor swift #epiphany

[mikhailoaleksandrmilkovich]

thank you @thisdivorce for tagging me even though it takes me centuries to actually do it <3

Name: kris

Century of your birth: 20th

Timezone: EST

Go-to coffee order: either black cold brew or mocha with milk and sugar. there's no in between

Do you have a pet? I have two kitties, Bowie and Lula who are littermates and the light of my life. Bowie was the chunker of the litter and Lula was the runt.

Do you have a personal motto? "be brave" I eventually want that tattooed in the Buffy font somewhere visible

Last vacation: I genuinely cannot remember the last vacation I had... I find it stressful to leave my pets and I've had pets since I was seven. I think my family spent a week at the beach in 2012.

Next vacation: maybe if I can get my anxiety under control I can take a vacation but until then it's day trips to NY for me.

Dream vacation: IRELAND!!! I've always wanted to tour the castles and I will get there one day I swear.

A short-term goal: work on my anxiety and get better at avoiding procrastination

A lifetime goal: I want to have a horror screenplay produced and made into a feature.

Last show you watched: rewatch: Gilmore Girls / new: the latest 9-1-1 and Lone Star episodes and I stg they want me dead

Next on your to watch list: Our Flag Means Death

Last thing you read: The Haunting of Hill House which was years ago bc my brain is broken and I have no attention span anymore

Something you're excited to read: I want to read Heartstopper and I'm hoping bc its graphic novel I'll be able to focus

Funniest thing on the internet today: https://lcevinolusola.tumblr.com/post/682241715124535296

Something you're struggling with right now: time management :( having two jobs is tough

Something hopeful: The Boys S3 and Strangers Things returning soon!!!

Tagging: @pwcbthesixth @sickness-health-all-that-shit @suchagallabitch and @vintagelacerosette to do this if they wanna

#tag games

[simp4cas]

It Was Never Us

Masterlist

Dean Winchester × Reader

Chapter 1- Dean Winchester is a Kidnapper

It was the first time that your sleep was dreamless. There was no pain, no death. Just you. It had been a long time since you had a peaceful sleep.

Nightmares were regular to you because of the death and destruction caused by Micheal, the archangel. For the last fifteen years, you'd been fighting against him- not even completing your eleventh grade. But not completing your education had been the least of your worries then.

When the Apocalypse first began with Micheal and Lucifer fighting each other, there was this huge surge of power that fried all of your electronics. Electricity was out, cutting out communication, and at that time, you didn't know that two archangels were fighting each other. It was all pretty quiet from then, only minor earthquakes.

Food and water started to run out and your parents would make supply runs to the store close to your house every two weeks.

Then, the riots began. Hordes of people carrying weapons raided houses and stores for food and water, killing anyone who may stop them. It was then that you noticed real human behavior. Your parents had gone for a supply run and never came back.

Everything pretty much went downhill from there. You had no food in the house and no protection. You would hide in a nook on your roof, afraid that people would break into your house. Eventually, when you came out and left the house, you had been too numb to notice no one on the streets, the debris everywhere.

Fast-forward to fifteen years later, with camps fighting against Micheal and his army of angels. Along the way, you met and lost so many people. Innocent people who had so much of their lives left to them.

You had gone human scouting since you were sick of sitting in boring Resistance meetings and tending to the sick and dying people in camp. It wasn't that you didn't like helping people- your heart just wasn't in it. Lately, you'd been feeling that nothing really mattered anymore.

You and the other people were caught and then they kidnapped Charlie.

Charlie?

Shit, Charlie!

You bolt up in a sitting position, your sleep disrupted by the thought of redhead. Your mind floods with what had happened before- the angels took Charlie to the Northern Camp and left you with another angel. Someone saved you. Some guy wearing layers and another guy in a tactical suit- that honestly made him look like an idiot.

You had accompanied the strange men and gone to the camp, mainly cause they gave you a Glock that was way sleeker than any other gun you'd seen. You frown, remembering what Layers- you didn't remember his name- said to you. Something about them being from an alternate universe and you being dead there. As much as you wanted to believe them, you didn't have the liberty of bringing your hopes high.

A world without Micheal? The first time you imagined a world like that, it had been brought you to tears. A few years later, it was pretty obvious that the humans were losing the war against the angels and it was pretty obvious that all of you were going to die. So the next times you visualized it, you showed no trace of emotion on your face.

You bring your hands up, cradling your head as the memories flood faster and faster. You guys broke Charlie out from the camp but you had been hit in the frenzy of all the people shooting at the angels. Before everything went black, you remembered looking down at your hands dripping with your blood, staining the white snow and your clothes, Layers and Charlie running towards you.

You finally open your eyes, your heart beating quickly in your chest. Your hand immediately goes to your side, where you'd been shot and you feel nothing. It's didn't pain at all.

In a span of 30 seconds, you lifted your dirty gray tank top up to look at your smooth skin and scanned the room you were in.

It was- to you- beautiful. The walls were made with red bricks, only half of it cemented. There was a wooden table to the side with a few books that looked new- no damage or burns. The bed you were on- God, the bed you were on was heavenly. Not the tattered with springs-sticking-out mattresses or the uncomfortable hammocks at camp. It was an actual, comfortable-as-hell mattress on a bed. You scoff in disbelief, lifting the clean white sheet off you.

Wherever you were, it wasn't a camp. Couldn't be one. Either the angels kidnapped cause who knows the luxuries they kept to themselves. You hadn't seen a place that wasn't raided or had at least a few bullet holes in the walls in a long, long time.

What happened after you blacked out? And did Charlie actually leave you?

You scoff, shaking your head. She was one of the people you would give your life for- and that was saying a lot. You couldn't jump to conclusions. Not until you figured out where you were. You feel light-headed for a second as you swing your body of the bed, stretching your toes onto the hard wooden floor.

Your eyes scan the room for weapons, finally setting onto the lamp on your bedside table. You yank the plug out and wrap the wire around the stem of the lamp, widening your eyes at the weight of it. Cautiously, after eyeing the room one more time, you turn the doorknob, surprised to hear it click and open. That was strange. If it was angels that kidnapped you, why would they leave the door unlocked?

The hallway extended to your sides, with simple white walls half-covered with gray tiles. It was a huge place with at least 10 doors in the walls. You raise your eyebrows, wondering how big the place would be.

The floor was cold under your bare feet and you growl in anger. They took your shoes!

With your blood pounding in your ears you pass every door, fearing that one would open and an angel would walk out. You pass an archway that led to what looked like a kitchen with a small dining table, an island, a stove, and a few metal cabinets with black handles on them.

Your body tenses when you hear people speaking in the next room. You try slowing down your breath. You shouldn't be checking it out- if it was an angel, you had no weapon to kill it. But your legs moved on their own accord to the right.

You walk into a room that had a huge table in the middle with a map of the world on it. A few control panels were towards the side of the walls, with bright buttons and dials. It connected to a library and by the looks of it- and a huge one- lavishly decorated with leather chairs and weapons like swords and katanas. In front of you was a black staircase, leading up to a balcony that overlooked the room.

There were two men in the library. A man wearing a tan coat had his back facing you and to his left was another man with tall hair, wearing flannel. Who wore flannel anymore?

"Hello boys," a woman's voice speaks in a Scottish accent and you frown, tensing up more. Were there three people? But it sounded muffled- like she was speaking from a walkie-talkie.

Or a phone.

No, that wasn't possible. All the phones had gotten fried and only a few of them had been salvaged.

"I'm very sure I've done nothing that you know of to make you want to call but so good to hear from you," she continues in a silky voice as ripples of music play in the background- a piano and a harp.

Where were you?

"Rowena, that's not- um- we-"

"You have to speak up," the woman cuts the flannel dude as he leans back in his chair, sighing. You take a small step back, hoping he didn't see you.

"We need your help," another man says in a deep voice- a voice that was familiar to you. Your frown deepens and your heart beats faster as you try placing that voice.

"Really?"

"We must assemble our most powerful allies to save our family and confront the archangel Micheal," the man pauses. This voice was monotone and it definitely wasn't the flannel dude speaking since you could see him. So that meant that there was another man in the room. The man who asked for help- you couldn't see him from where you were. He was probably hidden by the huge beam that led the 'battle' room to the library. "Now, he's from an alternate universe so..."

Alternate universes? Another Micheal? Who spoke that bullshit to you last. Layers. Shit, did he kidnap you or something?

"Oh, the handsome angel is there, isn't he? Hello, cutie pie!"

The man in the coat stands straighter and you assume he was the 'handsome angel'. You swear inwardly. There was an angel here. You should be searching for a weapon to kill him but you remained standing there, listening to the conversation and trying to place that goddamned voice.

"Oh... Hello."

"Lads, obviously I ought to help after what you- Sam did for me but I'm in the damn North Pacific West right now working on my own little project."

"Project?" the man you couldn't see asks.

"What project?"

"Oh, nothing about you to worry about. Just checking off items from my little 'to-do' list."

"Sure, that doesn't sound ominous."

"Rowena," Flannel starts off, "are you at a party... or something?"

"I am but I'm surprised you recognize the sounds of a party since how you're all work and no play."

"We didn't call to talk... Look, the world is in danger, Rowena," the unseen man sighs.

"I'm currently surrounded by art that makes me think the world should be in danger. Best of luck to you boys, my three little Musketeers," she cuts the call after making a 'muah'.

"Damn it."

"You know, she's right. You never go to parties."

Great. All you got to know was that they were talking to a Scottish woman named Rowena who may or may not be evil and that they never go to parties?! There had to be something else-

The scraping of a chair against the wood makes you inhale sharply and hold the lamp closer to your body.

"I'm going to check on Y/n," the gravelly-voice says again. You freeze up but take the chance to step forward and confront them. Something like in a movie- timing and all.

You step out from behind the wall and freeze when you see the man walking down the stairs of the library, head inclining up to look at you.

The same green eyes of the man that saved you from the angel on the bridge. Not knowing his name, you frown, swearing at your forgetfulness. You didn't think knowing his name would be important!

"Layers?"

~

"I will not sit!" You say loudly, the lamp still extended. Dean- he told you his name after frowning at what you called him- looks down at your 'weapon' and you shake your head.

"That lamp won't do much," he says, raising an eyebrow.

"Shut up," you say and look at the man in the tan coat who stood in the library, the furthest from you, looking at everybody uncomfortably. "Why are you with an angel? And- and who's he?" you ask, looking at the freakishly tall man who stood behind Dean.

"This is my brother, Sam. That's Cas- he's our friend. You can trust him," Dean reassures and for a second, you wonder why you weren't killing all of them.

"I can assure you I will not hurt you," the angel- Cas says and you shake your head.

"I don't need an angel's assurance. All you guys do is take and take." Your voice cracks slightly and you turn to Dean who looked at the exchange between you and the angel. "Where have you brought me? Where's Charlie?"

"Y/n, just sit down-"

"Dean," Sam cuts his off and you look at him, feeling tears pool at your eyes. You quickly blink them back, not allowing yourself to feel any fear. You would get out of whatever place this was.

Dean stops talking and looks at his brother. "Look," he sighs and looks back at you, "you were dying there and I had to save you. Your camp was too far and you were bleeding out too fast."

You frown, waiting for him to continue, warily glancing at the angel again. He looked almost sad. But that impossible. Angels were ruthless killing machines and they didn't care about anyone other than themselves.

"We're in a world without Micheal, Y/n. You're safe here."

"A world without Micheal," you scoff and look at the three, trying to spot the crack in the lie. But Sam and Cas looked at you with sincere expressions and Dean- well, every time he looked at you, there was something in his eyes- something that made it look like he didn't want to look at you at all.

"A world without Micheal," Sam says this time in a reassuring voice. "Cas healed you up when you came. You're safe here, Y/n," he continues, furrowing his eyebrows and making puppy dog eyes.

"It's actually a world without Micheal," you scoff again, your heart soaring in your chest. "A world- a world without Micheal. That was a phone in your hand," you say, now smiling ear to ear, laughing. "It's a world without Micheal!"

"Yeah," Dean says, a judging look on his face.

Your smile falls, though, as quickly as it came. "What about Charlie? And the others?"

Dean looks down. "She wanted to stay back."

Guilt brings your heart down, making it beat erratically. You shouldn't even be here. You should be there with Charlie and the others like Bobby and Tyler.

"Wait, you only- no. No, no, no. They need me there," you say as your eyes dart around the room. They finally settle on Dean. "You need to take me back."

A world without Micheal. A world where you could live peacefully, not having to live in constant fear all the time, worrying when the angels would attack again. A world where angels were apparently good. A world where you could be happy. But not living in a world with the people you loved and cared about... You were willing to throw away the perfect world for them.

"We can't," Cas says in his monotone voice this time and just him speaking irritates you. You shouldn't be rude to the angel since he was the one who saved you- it still surprised you that an angel did that- but it was just instinct.

"What do you mean you can't?" Your irritation seeped into your voice, earning a slightly surprised look from Sam and Dean.

"The ingredients we need to open the door," Sam continues, glancing at Dean, "we don't have them right now."

Your eyes widen and your mouth hung but you quickly shut it, clenching your jaw. "You brought me here," you speak, voice getting louder with every word, "with no plan of taking me back?"

"Y/n, it's not like that," Sam says but you shake your head, just wanting them to stop talking.

"How do I know you're not lying- that I'm actually in an alternate universe?" You look at Dean, with your brows knit together as a smile graces his lips.

Tags: @bi-danvers0

#dean winchester×reader #dean winchester #sam winchester #castiel #the bunker

[roseyserpents]

Someone You Loved

Summary: You were the love of Billy's life. Even when tragic events happened in both of your lives, you're always there for each other. But eventually one of you become the tragic event.

Warnings: cussing, angst, car crash, death

Word count: 3,986

A/N: This is written to the song Someone You Loved by Lewis Capaldi. I've been working on this for a while and I hope you like it!

I'm going under, and this time, I fear there's no one to save me

This all or nothing really got a way of driving me crazy

For the past week you'd been stuck in your own head. You'd been trying to figure something out but no matter how many times you started over and over again, you couldn't find the answer. The two weeks before you'd been talking to Billy Hargrove, the new kid and new king of Hawkins High School after dethroning Steve Harrington, and despite what the other girls said you'd seen a softer side of him. You only saw a little bit, but it was enough for you to want to see that side of him, the side of him that didn't start random fights and hookup with every girl. But, after you tried to get him to open the door to that version of him, he slammed the door in your face and stopped talking to you. You wanted to forget it all and just move on like every other girl after they got their short time with him, but you couldn't, and the fact you were stuck in place in the situation was driving you absolutely crazy.

I need somebody to heal, somebody to know

Somebody to have, somebody to hold

Billy staggers out of his house, rage boiling in his veins as he sees red and wipes blood off his lip. His back ached and screamed for his attention as bruises formed from him being slammed into the wall repeatedly. His head throbbed with a headache and a few cuts on his face, bruises in the shapes of fingerprints on his arms. All he could smell was the alcohol suffocating his father's breath, even with him and the aroma out of sight.

He climbs into his car, slamming down the gas pedal and speeding down the road with no particular destination, just needing to get as far away as he could from his house. He had nobody to turn to in his darkest times. Nobody dared get close enough to understand him or get to know him, nobody knew this side of him. Everyone who did was gone, either left him behind or back in California. He yearned for somebody just to help him or sit with him or tell him it was okay or just let him rant until he passed out, but there was nobody. Nobody was there for him when he needed them, he didn't know anybody like that. There were plenty of people waiting to know him for a few minutes, but no one to stay, nobody to be a permanent and constant in his life.

He didn't realize where he was going until he was stopped outside your house, the only light on being the one to your bedroom. He tossed the idea over and over again in his head before reluctantly climbing out of his car and making his way to the softly illuminated window.

You really didn't expect a knock on your window at one in the morning, the not so subtle knock nearly making you jump off your bed. Another knock comes and you grab a piece of wood that had fallen off of your bed frame from under your bed, slowly approaching the window. Your hand shakes as you pull back the curtains, letting out a small yelp when you see Billy's face peering inside. Hurriedly you open your window, confused as to why he was at your house and why he looked like he got hit by a truck.

"Billy? What the fuck?" You whisper yell as he closes the window, running a hand through his unruly curls.

"I know I kind of blew you off all week but I didn't have anywhere else to go." He says quietly, barely meeting your eyes.

"What... What happened?" You could hardly get your words out, utter surprise stopping every word from passing your lips. Your mind raced with every thought you'd had the week before and some more, going from asking yourself why in the hell he was here and why he looked guilty, to what to say and do and everything in between.

Billy stays quiet, the only sounds in the room being both of your breathing. You tried to meet his eyes to see the emotions hidden in the ocean blue, but he refused, sticking to the floor instead.

"Billy?" You say softly, trying to get an answer from him.

"Look, I just... Not now, okay?" You see his hand clench into a fist and his jaw tighten and decide to leave it at that, not wanting to push him anymore and make something bad happen.

It's easy to say, but it's never the same

I guess I kinda liked the way you numbed all the pain

"I'll be right back." You say before quietly stepping out into the hall, digging through your bathroom cabinets before finding the first aid kit in the very back. You go back to your room, finding Billy sitting on your bed, staring out the window. You cross your room and sit down next to him, placing the first aid kit at your feet. He still looks forward, not removing his eyes from the sky freckled with stars. You examined his side profile, a saddened expression on his face with his lips slightly drawn into a frown. Your eyes wander to his arm where you see small oval shaped bruises making almost a ring around his bicep. Slowly you reach a finger up and graze it over the mark, Billy flinching away and you retracting your hand.

"Who did this?" You ask, looking up at him again.

He looks at his arm before looking at you, letting out a heavy sigh. "Me and my dad don't get along too well."

You gently place your hand on his shoulder, giving a pitiful look before picking the first aid kit up off of the floor and flipping it open. You take a bottle of water off of your nightstand and pour it onto a gauze, holding Billy's chin in your other hand and cleaning off the scattered cuts on his face. His eyes examine your expression as you focus on cleaning him up. A few minutes later you closed the kit and set it aside, returning at Billy's side.

For once all of the pain and anger seemed to disappear and become an almost unrecognizable ache. You numbed all of the negative feelings, his body and mind relaxed just with your presence. He didn't exactly know why you had this effect on him, but he knew he didn't want it to go away.

"Do you need to stay here tonight?" You ask after a long period of silence, snapping Billy out of his daze.

"Yeah, as long as it's okay with you."

You nod, a small smile grazing your lips. "The bathroom is the first door on the left if you need it."

Billy stands and leaves the room, you lying down in your bed after throwing your hair into a ponytail. You turn off your lamp, turning onto your side just as the door cracks open again and Billy slips inside. The hallway light disappears as he closes it again, making his way across the room. The bed dips with his weight as he lays down behind you, a small blush creeping up your cheeks.

"Y/n?" He says quietly after he settles, the room silent except for the barely audible sound of crickets outside.

"Yeah?"

"Thanks."

That's how it was for the next two months. Billy's dad would give him a hard time and he'd escape to your house and spend the night. Sometimes he was calm enough to talk to you about it and other times he didn't talk and just sat with all his muscles tense and anger in his eyes. Either way you cleaned him up the best you could and gave him a safe place to stay. You learned more about him and saw the soft side of him, and while it wasn't the prettiest you were still there for him.

I'm going under and this time I feel there's no one to turn to

You were working on your homework in your bedroom when flashing lights caught your attention from in front of your house. You close your book and step towards the window, your face falling when you see three police cars, a few of the officers talking to your parents. Fear of the situation consumes you as you run out of your room and fly down the stairs, making your way out the front door and standing next to your parents. You could hear your mom crying now and see quiet tears rolling down your father's face.

"Mom? Dad? What happened?" You ask, both of them turning to face you. Your mom starts crying harder and your dad looks down, more confusion displayed on your face.

"There was a fatal head on collision between two cars." One of the police officers, Chief Hopper, answer. "Your brother was in the passenger side of one of them and unfortunately he didn't make it."

Everything freezes around you, a ringing noise replacing everything else in your ears. The news seemed impossible. When your brother told you he was going out with his friends, you thought you were going to see him the next morning. They'd just learned to drive, but they all seemed trustworthy.

Hopper was trying to explain more things to your now family of three but you ran back to your room, curling up in your bed and sobbing into your pillow. All you could think about was how unfair the whole situation was and how you would never see him again, hear him or talk to him. Your house would be empty of his laugh, void of his presence. You would trade all of your memories with him just for him to be in the room just next to yours again but no matter how many times you tried to it didn't happen. You were drowning in your sorrow and overwhelming feelings, your head sinking below the waves and nobody was coming to save you.

The next day you didn't go to school, and you didn't the day after either. You got a few calls from Nancy and Jonathan but you just let it ring each time as you layed on your bed and stared at the ceiling with endless tears slipping down your face. You only left your room to use the restroom, in the span of two days only eating a peach and two slices of toast. You felt like you had no motivation for anything, not wanting to move on in a world where your brother didn't exist.

The day dragged on into night, the clock on your wall telling you it was eleven pm. You hadn't moved from your bed, lying on your side numb and void of feeling. You hear a knock on your window but don't move, a few more knocks coming before the person opens the window. They climb inside, momentarily letting the noise of the late summer night into your bedroom before it's closed again. You feel the end of your bed dip with the weight of your visitor, more tears dropping down your face and into the wet spot on your bedsheet. A hand lies on your back, their thumb gently rubbing circles into your skin. A small sob comes from the back of your throat and you close your eyes, tears somehow making their way through the cracks.

Now, I need somebody to know

Somebody to heal

Somebody to have

Just to know how it feels

"Do you... Want to talk about it?" Billy asks quietly. You shake your head and swallow a cry, feeling a pull at your heart at the suggestion of bringing his passing to reality. You sit up and turn to look at him, both of your faces barely illuminated by the small lamp on your bedside table. You see a multitude of expressions on his face, including concern but unlike the other people you'd seen there was no trace of pity. He wanted to be there for you instead of just shooting you a pitiful look and moving on.

You move closer to him and wrap your arms around his torso with your head against his chest, letting your tears fall instead of holding them in. Billy freezes a moment, emotions not being his strong suit by a long shot. Slowly his arms wrap around your waist and pull you closer to him, one of his hands running up and down your back.

"I'm sorry." You whisper after your tears slowed to a stop, pulling away and drawing your arms to your side.

"Don't be. You were there for me, so now I'll be here for you." Billy says asuringly.

So that's how your relationship progressed with Billy. Both of you were pretty broken people, but your broken pieces seemed to fit in perfectly with each other's. Everything was said to be platonic, but you knew that you were slipping down the steep slope that is falling for Billy Hargrove and you were starting to gain momentum.

Billy came in your window as usual, kicking off his shoes and plopping down next to you on your bed.

"You're still studying for the test?" He asks, looking to you with your nose in a text book.

"I want to get a good grade." You say, closing the hardcover. "You should study with me."

"Or," Billy counters, propping himself up on his arms, "We could go to a party."

"Billy, no." You immediately reject, repulsed by the idea of going.

"I am not going to take no for an answer." He says, standing up. You shake your head with a sigh as he grins down at you.

"If I get killed I'm blaming it on you." You grin, walking towards your closet to find better party clothes.

-

"Gather round we're playing seven minutes in heaven!" Carol announces. You recognize other people in the large circle, including Steve, Nancy, Tommy, and some others. You stood next to Nancy, across the haphazard circle from Billy.

Carol spins the bottle, two of your classmates running off to the coat closet down the hall. exactly seven minutes later they're back, a few more people going and more and more people coming back with lipstick stains and forming hickeys.

"I think it's Y/n's turn." Carol grins, placing down the empty beer bottle sideways on the coffee table. Your mouth twitches in disapproval but you don't say anything, watching the opaque green glass slow to a stop in front of a denim clad mullet of curls. He smirks at you and you quirk a brow before standing and walking towards the closet, whistles and yells following you. Almost as soon as you step inside the small room, hands are placed on your hips accompanied by the sound of the door closing. Your back was pressed against the wall, your breathing inclined as your eyes adjust to the dark, revealing Billy's face two inches away from yours.

"Are you sure about this?" Billy whispers, scanning your eyes for your emotions.

"Of course." You reply, breath laced with alcohol. "It's just a game, isn't it?" An unreadable emotion flashes on his face but it's quickly replaced with a smirk before his lips attach to yours in a hungry kiss. He abruptly pulls away, though, rubbing a hand over his face before stepping away.

"I can't." He sighs, leaning against the wall opposite to you. You give him a confused look, wondering why the boy who was usually all over any girl he could get was suddenly rejecting you. You chew on your lip before walking out of the door, smiling to everyone with Billy following shortly after you.

"I'm gonna head home." He says before worming through the crowd of teenagers and towards the door, leaving you confused and without a ride home from the party.

Two days later you lied in your bed, around three am giving up on the chance of Billy coming. Just as you'd shut your eyes and gotten comfortable, there was a gentle knock on your window. After opening it you sit back down on the side of your bed, Billy kicking off his shoes and closing the window before taking his usual seat next to you.

It's easy to say

But it's never the same

I guess I kinda liked the way you numbed all the pain

"You know how I always say I like girls." He starts, you nodding and giving him a tired and confused look. "And while that's far from being wrong, when I say I like you it's different. I don't really know why and I've never felt this way before. Maybe it's because you just magically take away everything that my dad causes, you just kinda numb all of my pain. That's why I couldn't kiss you at the party. I didn't want you to be just another hookup for me, because you mean more."

"Billy are you sa-"

"I'm saying, that I'd love it if you'd consider going out with me." He says, a small smile trying to hide a layer of nervousness as he waits for your response. You don't say anything verbally, instead you throw your arms around him with a smile, sending him down into your mattress with you lying on top of him. You look from his glowing blue eyes to his lips before placing your own on them in a sweet and delicate kiss.

"So is that a yes?" He asks, you rolling your eyes and trying to get up but Billy's arms hold you firm against him. He rolls onto his side so your face is buried in his chest, a warm feeling of comfort spreading through you.

From that moment on, Billy made sure everyone in Hawkins knew you were his and nobody else's. Every time you two were around each other he was touching you in some way, whether it be holding your pinkie with his or holding you flush against him with both of his arms around you. Whenever anyone attempted to ask you out or touch you, they were quick to get a black eye from Billy. He was extremely protective of you, throwing fits if you got hurt in even the smallest of ways.

You and Billy sat on your couch, your head in his lap and his hands running through your hair, a movie playing in front of the two of you that you were hardly paying attention to.

"I love you." You say suddenly, causing Billy to freeze his actions.

"Really?" He asks after a few moments of silence, disbelief in his voice.

"Really." You smile, turning onto your back so you can look up at him. One of the most genuine and pure smiles you've ever seen spreads across his lips, you being quick in copying it.

"Say it again." He mumbles, leaning over you, with his hands holding your face.

"I love you." You smile.

"I," Billy pecks your lips, "love," another short kiss, "you." The last kiss lingers, both of you being forced apart when your grins become too wide.

But now the day bleeds

Into nightfall

And you're not here

To get me through it all

I let my guard down

And then you pulled the rug

I was getting kinda used to being someone you loved

Everything was going perfect between you and Billy for about nine months, but nothing could ever stay perfect for either of you.

It was only supposed to be a quick drive up to the Quarry to have a midnight picnic at the cliff when a truck t-boned Billy's precious car driving right into the passenger side. He seemed to watch in slow motion as you were thrown violently to the side only to be stopped by your seatbelt and being jostled side to side while glass and metal slammed into both of you. The car ends up slidding into a metal pole on the driver's side, the final sound of crunching metal and cracking glass ringing out before there's nothing but silence. Billy painfully turns his head to the side, wanting to scream out when he sees your body crushed between the middle council, your door, and your seat. Jagged pieces of metal stook out in places, some starting to be coated in blood. Your blood. Your face was entirely still as the impact had knocked you out cold, hair sticky with maroon sap sticking to your cheeks and forehead. Billy attempts to move but is forced to remain still as everything in him is lit on fire at the smallest movements. He feels utterly useless just sitting there as you were basically dying before his eyes. The love of his life was slowly loosing the life inside of them and there was nothing he could do.

Sirens ring in the distance and pull up to the devastating scene less than a minute later, emergency responders working on trying to remove the two teens from the totalled car. They eventually get Billy out and load him onto a gurney, a few moments later removing you, looking so small and fragile. You lie limp in the arms of multiple people, panic gripping their faces as they lie you down on the pavement, yelling for someone to bring them something. Someone brings a defibrillator, an electric sound running through the air before they shock your chest, your body giving a violent shake. Nothing can describe the devastation Billy felt as he watches the workers try time and time again to bring you back. Eventually they yell something, rushing you onto a gurney like Billy's and wheeling you away to a different ambulance than his. He tries to protest but blackness quickly takes over his vision.

-

"Hey Billy."

Billy groans as he squints open his eyes, seeing the fiery red hair before seeing Max's grieving but relieved face. Sudden panic grips his heart as he remembers the previous events up until watching you being rushed away from him.

"Y/n." He mumbles in a weak and hoarse voice. "Where's Y/n?"

Max is quiet and looks down, a sniff emitting from her as she looks up again with tears brimming in her eyes. "They, um, they brought her here after the revived her b-but the crash was just too much for her." She hiccups, wiping at her face with her sleeve.

Billy goes silent. This had to be a dream, some kind of fucked up joke his mind was playing on him. There was no way you'd died. It wasn't possible for you to no longer be alive and breathing and laughing and smiling. You're supposed to be with him right now back at your house after taking a relaxing picnic at the Quarry. Soon he was going to wake up with your head on his chest and your body gently rising and falling with each breath that kept you alive because you are alive.

Even though visitors came and went Billy didn't talk to anyone, each day bleeding slowly into night just as you had slowly bled out next to him in his car. He was utterly broken, his heart chipping away and the pieces crumpling at his feet, but you weren't there to pick them up and gently put them back together. You weren't there to get him through this because you were the one putting him through this. The only thing he thought about was how it should've been him sitting there instead of you, or how he could've prevented everything and the girl he loved would be still with him. He was finally getting used to someone accepting him and loving him but now it was all gone, and now you were just a memory of someone he loved.

#billy hargrove x you #billy hargrove fic #billy hargrove fanfiction #billy hargrove x y/n #billy hargrove x reader #billy hargrove #steve harrington x billy hargrove #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington #billy x steve #nancy wheeler #stranger things fandom #stranger things fic #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things

[ofeliaslullaby]

Fleabag Season 2: A Discourse on Love

Finally caved and watched season 2 of Fleabag. And I say caved as if I haven't been waiting for this show to come back for a solid 2 years...but I was saving it for a day when I truly needed something to rival my own stuff. I knew Fleabag would, because it had when the first season premiered in the US. The poetry of the show really has a way of putting some things into perspective. Season 1 seemed like a discourse on friendship, grief, guilt and self-worth. Season 2 felt like a discourse on love. There will be spoilers.

Firstly:

This season was a love story. Not the storybook, happily-ever-after love (There are no happily-ever-afters in Fleabagland, just there-will-be-pain-but-it-will-get-better-afters), but love in all it's grotesque complexity. After watching the season I took the "this is a love story" opener to not just be about Fleabag's ironic love for the Catholic Priest, but loving yourself (Belinda's monologue, Claire's haircut, Fleabag's new care for herself), familial love (Fleabag's relationship with her sister and father), Martin's love for Claire, and Claire's love for her work and Klare (Claire/Klare will never not be funny and cute). And the Godmother "loves" the Father and art but really I think she just loves attention and the idea of eccentrism.

The first episode hits you hard. It takes place over a year after we leave Fleabag at the end of season 1, and she's doing well, as is the guinea pig café. She is seemingly no longer blaming herself for Boo's death, no longer using sex as a form of escapism, and genuinely valuing herself. We once again get to voyeur through some of Fleabag's life moments. When it all kicks off we go from insufferable family dinner/engagement party for the Dad and the Godmother (who I didn't even remember were not married) with the Catholic Priest they got to marry them, brother-in-law Martin who we despise and the sister we haven't spoken to in over a year; to a tragic and intimate scene in the restaurant bathroom between the two sisters, and almost immediately back to the awkward dinner table where all hilarious hell breaks loose. This formula continues, as it did in the first. If you're not laughing, you're wanting to cry. Such is life, I suppose.

You get a little more context this season behind Claire and Fleabag's relationship. Like all relationships its complex (I feel like there were times when it felt like my relationship with my older sister), but there is love there. So much love. In the bathroom scene in the first episode it is obvious Fleabag is concerned for her sister, while her Claire is distraught, embarrassed, and eventually we come to find out relieved. When they get back to the table and Martin makes remarks that are clearly only hurting the Claire's feelings, Fleabag intervenes because she loves her sister and doesn't want to see her suffer anymore that night. Championing Claire to leave Martin (was rooting for this), that was love. It was obvious Martin loved Claire, he says as much in the scene, but they were not right for each other. Just because you love someone doesn't mean you're meant to be (something we get shown more than once in the finale). A defining moment in their onscreen relationship is when Claire says to Fleabag that the only person she'd run through an airport for is her. A few episodes before this scene we'd learned that what always looked like disdain on Claire's part was jealously and resentment stemming from her own feelings of inadequacy. By the finale I feel like Claire had gotten over some of those issues. When she leaves the wedding for the airport (guess there was someone else she would run through an airport for), I was cheering for her. Phoebe and Sian have so many dynamic scenes together that wouldn't work if the two didn't have amazing chemistry. I love them as sisters, and I love the characters' relationship.

Speaking of chemistry:

Of course, Fleabag would fall in love with the emotionally unavailable. Phoebe and Andrew's chemistry is so good. They played easily off each other's quirks and The Priest sees Fleabag in a way the other characters aren't able to (he notices her zoning out/fourth wall breaks). I could've watched this relationship play out for years. But alas, some things aren't meant to be.

It was obvious the two would end up together, just as obvious as it was that they were never going to last, as friends or a couple. When Fleabag breaks the fourth wall early on she says "we'll last a week". They're both a little dysfunctional, and we never fully get to hear why The Priest is the way he is (he always gets cut off when he tries to explain his past, only getting as far as "When I was a child..." and that he wasn't close to his mother). Through their relationship though, we see that even though it's been some time Fleabag is in fact still coping with the death of her mom and Boo. I feel like part of what she was looking for in their relationship was reassurance, as she turned to the Bible and prayer (something she would never have done previously, as an atheist), where she would normally have only turned to sex and alcohol or other ways to harm herself. When she and The Priest finally do have sex, we the invisible friend have our view almost immediately cut off. Has Fleabag ever done this? She usually narrated her sexual exploits. I feel that adds to the fact that this intimacy with the Priest was love, not a means of escape like the other times.

What I said earlier about the Godmother I say with a tiny grain of salt because I do realize that it's all subjective. We only see Fleabag's point of view. However, she's still the worst. She collects "friendships" like commodities and talks about them in terms of listen descriptors, most clearly shown when she introduced people in the finale. There is no real redeeming of the Godmother for Fleabag after she went from being the Mother's "best friend" to the Father's special someone. And it's hard to tell if the Father really loves her or if he's afraid of her/afraid of being on his own. Fleabag has a lovely heart to heart with her Dad (which acted also as a callback to a scene a few episodes earlier at the mother's funeral) in the finale where in a foreboding moment he says to her "I think you know how to love better than any of us. That's why you find it all so painful." Fleabag replies to us voyeurs tersely, "I don't find it painful". She definitely did. Look at the way she dealt with Boo's death. Yes, there was guilt, but she loved her. She loved her mother and having to see her Godmother with her Father, and being told snyly says she modeled the bust after her mom, her reaction...that's pain from love. We know Fleabag's love and grief for her mother were just as strong as the love and grief she had for Boo. In a flashback scene to after her mother's death, she tells Boo she doesn't know what to do with all the love she felt for her mom and how painful it is. Boo says to give it to her, she'll take it. Boo was a real one. I don't remember Fleabag breaking the fourth wall in these flashback moments (maybe I need to watch it again), but that got me thinking that we're probably taking the place of Boo. The person she lost who shared her laughter, her love, and her grief. We're her echo.

The final scene is heartbreaking to watch play out. You kind of know it's coming especially during his wedding speech, which he seemingly recited to her. The whole season spanned such a short period, but there is an immediate investment in what could be between these characters, and for the Priest this was the only real way this could end. There was no way he was leaving the priesthood. He warned her and thus we were warned, but we don't listen when it comes to the things we want. I was sad for her and him, but as Brittany Howard sings out to the credits (and The Priest's fox-foe pursues him); with a shake of the head that says "you don't need to follow me" and a wave goodbye we, the invisible friend, are reassured she's going to be alright. This was a wonderfully poignant way to end the series. It basically ended as the pilot ended, Fleabag on her way with the stolen bust of her mother in hand. I don't think it could've ended any better.

*I've had this in my drafts for maybe six months, started a new blog, decided to finally edit and post it. If you're reading this I hope you enjoyed it. -S*

#Fleabag #Fleabag x the Priest #Phoebe Waller-Bridge #Andrew Scott #Olivia Coleman #Amazon Prime #Sian Clifford #love #grief #friendship #TV

[v-v-void]

I hope the anons get off your back soon

Thank you.

I mean, can't get any worse right? I've already had two deaths happen in the span of a month. One of which was my cousin.. and a friends father whom I adored.. I had a stomach flu got rid of it and a week later, had a head cold. Which has turned into a sinus infection. I found out my sons father is going to start working out of town. Both of my parents are spending loads of time with the family of an old friend that I no longer have contact with and it hurts my fucking heart. And to add a cherry on top of it all.. I'm pretty sure I'm losing the person closest to me. So hey, they may as well kick me. Im an easy target right now.

Probably karma for something but karma has a way of coming back around like a boomerang. I just hope they duck in time.

#oooooooh and I got sent home from work today but im also on call starting Thursday. which means. my dumb ass isn't going to be sleeping #and I can't even get out of this because im required a week of on call every few weeks :)