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lunajay33 · 2 months

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New World🍂Part.10

Summary: You grew up in a crappy town with one friend who kept you going, everything started to fall into place, that’s until the world ended and the dead ruled the world, now you and your best friend Daryl Dixon had to stay alive but will you finally confess?

Warnings: This chapter contains light sh if you’re not comfortable don’t interact

Part.9

•Masterlist•

I tried to go through the day like normal, working around the prison, helping where I can especially with Judith, having her in my arms gave me a little piece of what I had in my dreams, imagining her as Daryl’s and mine, Daryl brown hair, gorgeous light blue eyes, one that I could coddle at night and claim her as my own, but that dream was ripped away when someone would come and take her for their turn watching her

Maggie had came a few minutes ago and taken her gently from my arms, it felt like my heart would pull away with her everytime, and now what? I just go on like usual with this pain consistently play over in my head, I want that baby, I want her with me, I want Juniper to grow up and be happy but it’s not real and it might never be

I decided to go out to hopefully clear my head a bit, get some fresh air, I saw Daryl’s bike and sat on it as opposed to the hard dirty ground, I looked through the field seeing Daryl and Glenn and Carol taking down some walkers at the fence, he was so amazing everything he’s done, all the memories of him trying to cheer me up even as a kid and I knew he’d be great with a baby but he said we can’t and I don’t wanna push him but keeping this feeling to myself is unbearable I just need to cry about it, and I needed him to help me get over this intense sadness that plagued my mind

Daryl came walking up to the prison once they took out the majority of the walkers, noticing me on his bike

“Yer looking pretty there sunshine” he said running his hand through my hair

“Can I talk to you?” I asked playing with the ends of his sleeveless shirt

“M’kay” he grumbled as he took my waist moving me further back in the bike so he could sit facing me, a weird seating situation but it wasn’t uncomfortable and him being close helped, he placed his hands on my thighs and rubbed reassuringly

“What’s going on?” And that question let damn that was holding my tears back, break wide open, I was a blubbering mess

“Sunshine yer scarin me” he said bringing my head into his chest

“Remember how I asked you yesterday about kids?” I finally managed to say

“Ya”

“I had a dream….where we had our little life together, I was home after teaching waiting for you to come home, I had made your favorite meal and when you got home I cleaned all the dirt and oil off you, then me you and our little baby girl had supper together, and I was so happy Daryl she was beautiful she looked just like you…..her name was Juniper, but then you told me none of it was real and…….and we’d never get to have that life together, that it was ripped away from us before we even got a chance” I was hiccuping and I knew I was screaming crying that other could hear, it just hurt so much

Daryl was now holding my face looking me in my red eyes from crying so hard

“It hurts, I wanted so much with you, I dreamed of it everyday when we were younger until this stupid shit ruined it, I just wanted you to be happy with me for once”

“Baby, I love ya, yer the only thing I ever need, I won’t lie and say I never thought of that life with ya cause I have, ta have a family and grow old together, but I still have ya and ya still have me, ya can’t give up on us cause we’re lucky we managed ta survive together and I didn’t lose ya, I’m sorry baby” he said his voice wavering

“I’m sorry I’m being so dramatic D, I just needed to talk about it” he leaned in and kissed my tears away then my lips

“Ya don’t gotta be sorry and it ain’t dramatic, yer my girl but I promise ya we’ll be happy again, I’m happy where ever ya are”

“You’re my home Daryl, I love you”

“I love ya too”

That night I slept a bit better, knowing I would have Daryl there with me when I woke up, I still wasn’t going to give up hope that one day we still might get that dream but for now I’m happy I atleast have Daryl here who somehow still loves me

~2 weeks later~

A lot of things happened over two weeks, Maggie and Glenn got taken by this guy named to governor and now a few of us were going to get them with the help of this woman named Michonne, we were able to get them out and now we were on the side of the road taking a break

“Merle is not coming home with us” Glenn groaned

“We can’t leave ‘im” Daryl said

“Do you know what he did to us, he’s not coming”

“Then I’m going with him” Daryl said standing next to Merle

“I’m going with you too then” I said going over to him

“Nah yer stayin at the prison yer safe there” he said squeezing my shoulders

“No daryl please don’t leave me” I said feeling my stomach tighten in sickness and nerves

“I can’t leave ‘im out here alone”

“But what about us? You promised” I cried clenching his shirt

“I’ll find ya again sunshine” and with that he was gone, he left me and now I was alone, ya I had everyone at the prison but it’s not the same

I watched him go getting smaller and smaller within the trees till he was just gone, Maggie managed to drag me back to the truck and we drove back to the prison, I felt numb, I told him I needed him and he said he needed me and he just left, was it worth it anymore to live without him

When we got back I went straight to one of the watch towers, the tower where Daryl and I would take watch together, spend alone time together peacefully but now it just felt empty and quiet

The day got dark and I was watching the stars appear, Daryl taught me once all the constellations, we were 16 and sitting out in a field waiting for a comet show

“That one is Orion, and that one there is the Big Dipper” he said pointing out that sparkly dots in the sky

I looked at him with so much adoration, he was beautiful then to me as much as he was now, maybe one day we’d be in the stars together side by side, not a trouble in the world to bother us

I took out my switch blade that Daryl gave me many years ago and sighed out a breath, this made me feel weak but he’s gone and with Merle and I know how he is with Merle, he’ll always stick by his side and if Glenn refuses to have Merle here then Daryl will never come back

The blade hurt my hips but not as much as how my heart felt, it took away the pain for a second it distracted me but it never lasted, I eventually fell asleep crying myself into exhaustion

I was sat with Juniper on my lap grabbing at my shirt playfully and babbling and I couldn’t help but smile by heart so full until Daryl took her from me

“We’re gone now y/n, you’ll never get what you once wanted”

“No please don’t leave, I need you both…..please daryl”

“It’s too late, you’re alone”

I woke up gasping for air turning to confide and cuddle in to Daryl like I usually did after a nightmare but when I turned it was cold, bringing me back to the reality that he was right in the nightmare, he was really gone and took all my hopes and dreams with him

Part.11

Lmk you’re thoughts on this chapter in the comments

Taglist: @deansapplepie @ghostboneswrites2 @willowshadenox @thebadbatch2022 @writer-ann-artist @i-wear-wet-socks313

#twd fanfiction #daryl dixion imagine #twd daryl #daryl dixon #twd x reader #twd fluff #daryl dixion smut #daryl x reader #daryl imagines #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon twd #daryl fanfiction #daryl dixon smut #the walking dead daryl #daryl dixon x female reader #daryl x y/n #daryl dixon fluff #daryl dixion x reader #daryl dixon series

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happilyfeatherafter · 1 year

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Dean’s VOs in The Winchesters (season one!)

(LISTEN ALONG WITH AUDIO HERE)

Dean episode 1:

( Ten Years After's "I'd Love to Change the World" ) ♪ ♪

March 23, 1972. The day Dad came home from the war, and the day he met Mom. Now I know this story might sound familiar, but I'm gonna put the pieces together in a way that just might surprise you. And in order to do that, I have to start all the way at the beginning.

[END OF EPISODE]

What they didn't know is that the Akrida weren't just a threat to Earth, but to all of existence. Now, like I told you, there's gonna be some surprises. Hell, I'm still trying to find all the puzzle pieces myself. But I'll explain everything. And until then, I'll keep picking the music.

♪ ♪ Spread them wide ♪ ♪ Rich or poor ♪ ♪ Them and us ♪ ♪ Stop the war ♪

Dean episode 2:

( punchy, percussive music ) ♪ ♪ The ties that bind a family together can be complicated. Parents raise you, teach you what's right and wrong, and in some instances, how to kill monsters. But no matter who you are, there comes a time when you have to break from them and make your own way. And if you're not careful, things can get pretty ugly.

Dean episode 3:

( dramatic music ) ♪ ♪ ( screams ) ( sizzling ) ( growling ) There's no map to being a hunter. No playbook. You gotta follow your gut. But that can only take you so far. Truth is, you can't do it all on your own. You need other people to help guide the way... Your friends, your family. Otherwise you just end up lost.

Dean episode 4:

( eerie music ) ♪ ♪ Fighting the battle between good and evil isn't easy, especially when the first monster you have to face is the one inside yourself. ( soft dramatic music )

Dean episode 5:

( dramatic music ) ♪ ♪ Spending a lifetime of hunting monsters takes its toll. There comes the time when you gotta let out that pain inside you. If you don't, it'll eat you alive.

Dean episode 6:

(Lata) I am centered. I am at peace. I create my own path, and I walk in it fearlessly. (end Lata)

Hunting has a way of changing a person. After a while, right, wrong, good, evil, they all start to look the same. And then it makes you start to wonder, "Who's really the monster here--them or me?"

[END OF EPISODE]

Hunting's not for everyone. You have to be strong, stay sharp, make tough decisions, and it's not easy, But then again, the righteous things never are.

Dean episode 7:

( birds chirping ) Comes a time in every hunt when the fightin' starts. And the difference between winning and losing isn't whether you have the holy water, the wooden stake, or the silver bullet. It's whether you've got the grit to get the job done. (Mary on radio)

Dean episode 8:

(John Moran’s “Rebel”) ♪ ♪ Being a hunter, it means living a life of sacrifice-- not a lot of room for dreams. But you open your heart and get a little lucky, you'll find you gain more than you lose. ♪ ♪

Dean episode 9:

( mellow bluesy music ) ♪ ♪ This isn't how I saw things going when I pushed over that first domino. Thing is, I've had more than a few dances with free will and fate, but as my dad used to say, "Fate is what you make it."

Dean episode 10:

Hunting and happy endings don't usually mix, so when you get your chance, you got to ask yourself, "How far will I go to get it?"

Dean episode 11:

Being a Hunter means always being on the move, No matter how hard you plan, no matter how hard you work, at a certain point, we all run out of road. It's what we do with those crossroads that defines us.

Dean episode 12:

♪ ♪ ( carnival music resumes ) ♪ ♪ ( giggling manically ) ♪ ♪ ( shrill giggling ) ( whispering voices ) ( strange sounds ) 🤡🤡🤡

Hunting's a dishonest business. You gotta lie all the time about who you are and what you do. But the hardest lies aren't the ones you tell other people. They're the ones you tell yourself.

(Mary to John) Another day looking for this mystery man and still nothing. It's like this guy's a ghost. (End Mary to John).

Dean episode 13:

*RECORD SCRATCH* HE’S HERE!!!!! We’re going in universe baby.

(Opening scene, dramatic music ) ♪ ♪

Dean: John Winchester.

John: Sir, can I help you?

Dean: This is for you.

John: Where did you get this? Who are-- [...] One ticket for Lawrence, Kansas.

Ticket lady: Okay.

BOBBY, IT’S FREAKIN’ BOBBY!!!: We're not supposed to meddle with things, ya idjit!

Dean: You always said if I was gonna be stupid, I might as well be smart about it.

Bobby: Yeah, that does sound about like me. We're not even supposed to be here.

Dean: Come on, the letter was meant for him. I just, uh, you know, gave it a nudge.

Bobby: You keep an eye on things here. I'm gonna get the damn cavalry.

Dean: How you gonna do that?

Bobby: I got no freaking idea. One last hunt, huh?

Dean: One last hunt. ♪ ♪

[Insert finale including lots of chat about the ‘ruggedly handsome' mystery man here. For Akrida!Queen exposition science: You're here to talk about the man with no name...he was digging around in things that should have stayed buried. ... The Akrida. You see, our mysterious friend isn't from around here. There's only so much he could do. His hands were tied. Credit where it's due... he did manage to stay ahead of me for a while, but... I can assure you that he's not going to be a problem anymore. ... Well, there's this portal. You see--I'm sure you've heard of it. It's not quite up to code yet, but I managed to pry it open just enough to toss a certain someone and his car into it. No human can survive that gateway, so his body will be torn to shreds for centuries. Anyway, this, um... this old journal... it's all that's left of him.]

Back to the end of the show:

( electricity crackling ) ( engine revving ) ( engine revving ) ( dramatic music ) ♪ ♪

John: Mary! ... How did you guys survive?

Dean (gestures at Baby): She kept Mary safe... me too. Of course, there's not a lot that can tear me apart. I'm already dead. I was stuck in the world between worlds, so I stayed close to that portal, and as soon as I saw baby come through, I hopped in and grabbed the wheel.

Samuel: So who are you?

Dean: I'm a Hunter, just like you. But I'm not from this Earth.

Ada: And how did you get here?

Dean: When I died, I made it to heaven. And she was waiting for me. So I went for a drive, and then I took a little detour.

Latika: Through the multiverse. (Dean points ‘bingo’.)

Carlos: S-so what were you looking for?

Dean: That's a good question, Carlos. I was looking for my family. See, I come from a long line of Hunters. I guess I was hoping that somewhere out there was an Earth that had a version where my family had a shot at a happy ending. When I was driving, I caught wind of the Akrida. Turns out that they were one of Chuck's last creations.

Millie: Who's Chuck?

Dean: God. It's a long story, but, uh... basically, he's a real dick. He left the Akrida behind to wipe out all of existence in case he failed. Well... he failed. Eventually the Akrida were going to make their way to my world, and I got family there, so I couldn't let that happen.

John: T-the letter, why did you--

Dean: I took my little detour. The rules were simple. Don't mess with anything. Well... I gave it a little nudge. Thought it might need a little help. Looks like it worked out pretty well. So now that the Akrida are gone, you all can choose your own destiny. You can write your own story.

Jack: And you can get back to yours.

Dean: It's all right. It's all right. They're--they're with me. This is Bobby. That's Jack. They're family. Excuse me. You okay?

Bobby: I told you I'd figure it out. Didn't say I wouldn't get us in more trouble. Look at 'em. Man, this is all kinds of weird... seeing Samuel with a full head of hair.

Dean: Right? ( chuckles )

Jack (~~or is he?~~): Dean.

Dean: Yeah. No, I know. I know, Jack.

Jack: When I restored things, I wanted mankind to make their own fate. That meant no interference from on high, anywhere... no exceptions.

Dean: I couldn't let our world get destroyed. Sam's still down there, okay? He deserves a good, long life. Hell, they all do. ( indistinct chatter ) So, if you want to cast me out of heaven... so be it.

Bobby: If we're taking a vote, I'd say you give the guy another chance.

Jack: There's always another case with you Hunters... even in death. Well... if you're going to meddle in things, finish what you started. After this... it's time to get around to the... "there'll be peace when you are done"... part of the song.

Dean to John: Listen, um... b-before I go... I want to give you two something. My dad... he, uh... Kept a Hunter's journal, looked just like this. I lived my whole life by that damn thing. Well, this is my Hunter's journal. So if you're gonna stay in this game... This will help guide you through it.

John: Thank you.

Dean to Mary: I know you're thinking about quitting Hunting. Believe me, I understand. But you need to do me one favor. Keep an eye out for a yellow-eyed demon. And if you even catch a hint of that son of a bitch... I need you to use this.

Mary: Your family... did you ever find a version where they had a shot of a happy ending?

Dean: I think I did.

John: You never told us your name.

Dean: Hetfield... James Hetfield. (Hetfield is the lead vocalist, rhythm guitarist, co-founder, and a primary songwriter of heavy metal band Metallica.)

( Nick Drake's "One of These Things First" ) ♪ ♪ (Dean, Bobby and Jack vanish with baby).

Transcripts from: https://tvshowtranscripts.ourboard.org/viewforum.php?f=1550

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seenoversundown · 4 months

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The Caravel Tavern Series : Prologue

Warnings: mentions of drinking/alcohol, sibling banter, fluff/wholesome/good vibes.

Word Count: 4.2k

Summary: The opening of Caravel Tavern was a dream come true for Jake. With the help of his best friends and brothers, naturally. In a small city in New England, it's rare to come across new faces. (or even run into some from the past)

A 4 Book interconnected series where they find love in the most unexpected ways. The bar was Jake's dream, but somehow is helping everybody else's dreams come true as well.

Rom-Com • Enemies To Lovers • Love At First Sight • Rekindled High School Sweethearts • Workplace Romance • AU - Boys x OCs

Night Moves - Bob Seger “When you just don't seem to have as much to lose Strange how the night moves With autumn closin' in”

Two Days until Open

Flipping the heavy lock and hearing the door chime has become my favorite way to start my day. After six long months of fixing up this place, it’s only days from officially opening. I’ve spent countless hours cleaning it up, with the help of my brothers, obviously. But it has come together and finally feels like mine.

“Goodmoooooorning!” Josh sings from across the room.

“Good Morrow!” I can’t help the slight accent that comes along with it.

Josh has been helping me decorate, thrift, and create things to match the aesthetic here. Deciding to develop a piratical vibe with a touch of retro themes felt right. We’ve spent hours finding the perfect pieces to hang, and thankfully, Josh has a good eye for all that. Red neon signs adorned the walls, with my favorite “Sinners Welcome” sign hanging behind the bar.

“I think we are getting close to finishing with the decor,” Josh says, turning to make eye contact with me.

“If you’re happy with it, then I’m happy with it,” I said, smiling back at him. “Just let me know what I can do to help. Otherwise, I’ll be organizing until the cows come home.”

The door chimes ringing as Sam, our younger brother, walks through the door, Daniel quickly following behind.

Daniel has practically been part of our family since we were kids, so he is treated like a brother. He and Sam went to school together and instantly attached at the hip, so he was at our house often throughout the years. When the time came, he chose not to go away for college, and I helped him get a job with me at the Shipyard. Unfortunately, it wasn’t a glamorous job, but it’s one of the better-paying options— at least it wasn’t a factory.

“Okay, Tweedle Dee and Tweedle Dum, we come bearing gifts, and by that, I mean, I hope you like these coffees,” Sam announces as he makes his way to the bar, “black– because I texted both of you and neither replied, so it’s your fault.”

“Some of us have jobs, Sam,” I said back.

Josh pulls out his phone, and I can see him click around for a second, “Oh yeah, there it is.”

Sam abruptly set the coffee on the bar in front of us with a shit-eating grin.

“Mental note, keep coffee creamer,” Josh mumbles and Sam holds a bag out to him before taking a sip.

“I didn’t forget your caramel cold foam whipped cream bullshit that you put in your coffee.”

Josh’s face lights up at the sight, “Wow, you do care about me,” putting on the dramatics per usual, “Also– I better not be Tweedle Dum.”

Sam let out a sinister laugh with an exaggerated shrug, “Guess we’ll never know!”

Since Sam got home from college, he’s been helping Josh and myself get everything done for the bar. Often, he’s reluctant or tries to make it seem that way. I can tell that he likes to be a part of everything. He’s been offering to take pictures of the bar. We have all the beer available, so we can post them on our Instagram, which I’m glad he understands is part of the business because I do not.

“Thank you, Samuel,” I say. “Lucky for you, I always take my coffee black.”

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

“I think if I have to look at another beer can today,” Sam starts, “I’ll lose my mind completely.”

I giggle as I continue to track what we have in stock, “The worst is almost over, bud.”

I’m sure opening the week of Thanksgiving seems like a terrible concept, and, to be frank- it’s overwhelming. I hope the six months of bickering with everybody will prove it was worth it.

“Hey, boss,” Daniel starts, “is there anything else you’d like me to do?”

I’m not exactly proud of how much he startled me. I should be more used to how quiet he is by now, but I don’t think I’ll ever be.

“Jesus Christ,” I stop to process the question. “No, buddy, you can go home. It’s getting late, and we all probably could stand to get some rest before actually opening.”

With no hesitation, I hear Sam ask from the other room, “Does that include me also?”

“Yes, go home!” I shout over to him.

The door chime rings suddenly, causing Josh and me to laugh, walking over to find whatever he is working on. Carefully tapping the frame to ensure it’s centered on the nail, he looks incredibly focused.

“We can also be done for the night,” I tell him, putting my arm around his shoulders.

“Well, even better news, that was the last thing I needed to hang.” He says.

“You’ve outdone yourself, really.” I compliment him.

Patting my hand a few times, he tells me, “Did it up just right, and it’s all for you, brother.”

We stare at each other silently for a second.

“I’m just elated to see you finally going for your dreams.”

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

Opening Night

The room glows in red from the neon signs we’ve hung, making everything feel real suddenly as I look at the locked door. We decided to open a little later in the day so the ambiance would be there. Also, who opens a bar on their first day at noon?

“How are you feelin’?” Daniel asked, squeezing my shoulder to wake me up from my nervous state.

“I’m not well.”

He laughs at my response. “It’s going to be great, Jake.”

I spent a moment trying to crack my knuckles before letting out the breath I had been holding. Listening to the quiet, jazzy riff that Sam is playing on the piano, tucked into the corner.

“You think so?” turning to him for a bit of reassurance.

“Absolutely. I think you’re onto something great, buddy,” he tells me.

My hands shake as I turn the jukebox on for the first official time, hearing the music start playing throughout the bar; we all look at each other for a second with smiles plastered across all our faces.

“Okay, it’s time,” I say as I turn the deadbolt. Seeing Josh pull the little chain on the ‘Open’ sign in the window makes my heart thump even louder.

The moment feels like slow motion as the door opens, and it isn’t one of the four of us who have been working here. I had hardly taken two steps back when the chime went off.

“Oh, sweetheart,” my mom gasps, stepping over the threshold, “This is wonderful.”

She immediately pulls me into a hug; all my nerves disappeared in a simple gesture.

“You did the damn thing, now didn’t ya bub?” Dad finally speaks up, giving me his signature side hug.

Before I knew it, Josh was already toting our parents around the bar, showing them all the decor he was proud of finding. A few customers who weren’t family had started to trickle in and sit at the bar.

“I actually made Jake meet me after work so he could help me pull this out of the dumpster,” Josh explains, louder than I wished he would. A collective “oooh” followed his statement, realizing that a handful of customers sitting close to the tour were also listening to him now.

“I painted this for him,” he continues, pointing at his framed artwork. He’s always been artistic; his imagination was incredible.

A miniature painting of Queen Anne’s Revenge sat in a gold frame. He’s always known that I love everything about pirates and their history. That was one of the first things he made for the bar when I told him I would officially buy it.

“That’s beautiful,” our mom gasped, leaning in to look at the little details even closer. “You really did that, Sunshine?!” Her voice raises excitedly, causing even more customers to glance over. Covering my mouth with my hand, I try to contain the laugh. Josh really did turn into Mom over the years, huh?

“You obviously know that Jake loves his pirates,”

“Oh, I sure do,” Mom says, “Remember when he would cry because his favorite pirate ship jammies needed to be washed?”

“Alright, alright. Mum, we don’t need to bring it up,” I chime in, “ again,” shaking my head at the trip down memory lane.

My dad finally snuck away from the Grand Tour, found a seat at the bar, and started to make conversation with a few people.

Glancing over to the door as it opens, Old Man Chuck strolls in, immediately making eye contact. He makes his way over to the corner stool at the bar.

Without asking, I slide a beer over to him.

“Ya did a hell of a job, kid. Place looks wicked good,” he mumbles.

“Thank you, Sir,” I matched his volume, “that one’s on me.” He gave me a subtle nod.

Old Man Chuck wasn’t a man of many words, and I respected that. He took a chance to sell me the bar; I’ll always be grateful. It probably helps that I have spent plenty of nights here when he still owned it, but where else am I supposed to go when my apartment is only two floors above?

As the night goes on, people start trickling in. Living in Portland for so long, you realize everyone knows everyone. Considering we were rapidly approaching Thanksgiving, many people were home for the holidays and in need of a break from their families.

I scan the bar to see if anybody hasn’t been tended to when I see Sam trying his hardest to converse with Chuck, and it’s not working. I walk over, touching his shoulder to get his attention.

“Sammy boy, can you just do a quick round and make sure everyone in the booths is good?” I quickly ask him.

“Aye, aye, Captain.”

I watch as he makes his way to each table, collecting empty glasses and making occasional small talk with some of the groups.

“Everyone good over here?” I could hear him asking from behind the bar.

Even though he would complain daily about helping out, I could tell he didn’t mind doing this part as much. I could never say to him because it would go straight to his head, and I’d never hear the end, but I’m incredibly proud of him. Poor kid hasn’t worked a day in his life, and I’ve been putting him through it for the last few months.

“Oh, you sell things at the farmer’s market too?” he asks. “What’s your Instagram? I’ll follow you real quick!”

He’s always been comfortable talking to people; he usually seems carefree. I’ve always admired how sure of himself he is. I don’t know if it’s the amount of time he spends outside or that he got a few years away from us, but he’s gotten much more comfortable with himself.

“So.. do you have a boy-“

All of that to say, he has absolutely no game with the ladies.

“Hey bud, I told you to check on everyone,” I glance over at the girl and back at Sam, “not harass them.”

“Jake, what are you doing?” he spits out, “I’m so sorry- uhh”

I give him a quick double pat on the back and nod towards the bar.

“Are you kidding? I was trying to–” Sam continues as I stroll behind the bar. “Do you actually hate me?”

“You were not about to win her over, Sam,” I laugh. “She’s been making eyes at Daniel all night.”

I watch him deflate, putting the dirty glasses he brought back in the bin beside me.

“She doesn’t seem like your type anyway.”

“And you know what my type is?” He questions with a smug look on his face.

“She clearly wasn’t feisty enough to put up with your stubborn ass,” I quip back with a smile.

Unimpressed with my response, he goes back to mingling with customers. I find myself watching him as he makes small talk.

I probably shouldn’t step in on his attempts at flirting, but I could see that one imploding a little too quickly.

I don’t have the best of luck with women myself. I haven’t been on a date in God knows how long. The bar has kept me so busy I don’t even consider it. There are too many things I need to think about constantly, and it wouldn’t be fair for me to do that to someone.

Scanning the room, I notice a couple sitting together in one of the booths, his arm draped over her shoulders. The way she looks at him, gazing at him like he created the moon. Cradling his face with her tiny hand and pressing her lips to his cheek, a smile erupted across his face. Maybe one day.

“Come back to earth, honey,” followed by a few snaps, pull me out of my own world.

“I’m sorry, Linda,” I laugh, “I’m happy to see you here.”

Linda Graves, a sweet older lady, will quickly become one of our regulars. She runs a stand at our local farmer’s market and quickly became buddies with Sam. Her husband had recently passed when he first met her, but she was slowly making her way back out into the world. She’s an eccentric girl and, honestly, reminds me of Josh often.

“Where’s the big guy?” she asks, making her bright red glasses bounce up and down suggestively.

“You know he has a name–”

“I’m trying to play hard to get Jake. You’re supposed to be my wingman,” she whispers, gently smacking my arm, “Did I use that right?”

Throwing my head back with a laugh, I said, “Oh god, you’re right!”

Gesturing to Linda to give me one second, I find the man of her dreams, who is conveniently walking out of the bathroom as I turn into the hall.

“I have a lovely little lady who would like to see you,” choking back the laugh.

“Is it who I think it is?” Daniel asks, following me towards the bar, “Ahhh– there she is.”

He’s a good sport about most things, which is a refreshing outlook to have around, considering who my family is.

“Hi there, beautiful,” he starts, and I watch her melt into a puddle over him.

“Now, Lin, you know I’m gonna have to check your ID if you want to drink tonight.” He tells her with a little wink.

“Oh, Danny. You make me feel so young,” Linda tells him.

“What do you mean, sweetheart? You ARE young,”

“You cut it out now,” She giggles like a schoolgirl, “I look like a bag of bones. I think we both know I’m old.”

“You don’t look a day over 21.” He leans forward, holding himself on the bar. He knows exactly what he’s doing, making his arm muscles flex a little while he listens to her talk. I watch Linda taking little glances at his biceps while he talks.

I see the towel he has sitting over his shoulder starting to slip, and I lean forward to catch it as it falls. Tossing it back over his shoulder, he gives me a slight nod since he is mid-sentence.

“Good save,” Linda quips.

“Thank you, thank you,” I send her a warm smile.

I turn around immediately, bumping into Josh, his teeth on full display, giggling to himself. I haven’t seen him this happy in a while.

“Having fun?” I ask.

“Of course! I’m drunk!”

“I- uh- you’re what?” The panic lacing my voice is intense.

“Jake,” he says while grabbing my shoulders, “I’m kidding.”

Dropping my head back in relief that it was a joke, I’m disappointed I fell for it.

“What a little shit you are,” I can’t help the laugh that escapes me.

“Who are you calling little? I’m five minutes older than you, bub.” He calls back over the music.

I roll my eyes and walk off. He’ll never let that die.

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

“Excuse me.”

I turn around to find a petite older lady sitting at the bar.

“Oh, I’m sorry, how are you this evening?” I ask.

“Well, it’s much better now,” she batted her eyelashes at me.

“I’m so happy to hear,” I hold in a laugh, “What can I get you to drink?”

“Do you have any Moscato or Rieslings?

I smile as she asks, “Of course I do. Hang on”

Turning around to the fridge where we store our white wine, I giggle quietly.

Looks like I’ve gained my own Linda.

I grab a glass and turn back to her, setting the glass in front of her.

“I don’t know if you know this..” I pause, “I’m sorry, I never got your name?”

“Eleanor”

“Well, Eleanor, I save this specific bottle of Moscato for only the sweetest of girls,” I tell her as I pour the chilled wine into her glass.

“Oh, you stop,” She bashfully waves her hand toward me.

I glance at her with a smirk cemented across my face.

“Here you go, darling,” I slide the glass across the bar to her.

I give her a second to take a sip, and I can hear the quiet hum telling me that the wine is what she was hoping for.

“Actually,” I start, “I’d like to introduce you to someone. I think you would get along a little too well.”

I look over to Linda, who has taken a break from flirting with Daniel for a moment so he can get some work done. Waving her over, she grabs her bag and downs the rest of her drink before walking around to Miss Eleanor and me.

“Linda, this is Eleanor.” I introduce them and watch as they start to make small talk.

I found out that they both are into crafting and that Eleanor has been known to make the vases for the Flower Truck that goes to the Farmer’s Market. ⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

“Where are my boys?” Mom asks loudly.

Somehow, we all heard her over the chatter of the bar. Sam was already closest to her, so he wrapped her up in a hug first.

“I’m getting too old to be out this late, Buttercup,” she tells him.

“Ma, it’s only 10 PM,”

“I know, I know,” she says, patting his chest gently.

Reaching out for Josh, who’s coming in hot for a hug. Wrapping her tightly and rocking her back and forth.

“I love you,” Josh spoke with an inside voice. Something about our mom brought him down to earth.

“Oh, I love you so much, Sunshine,” Mom leans back, holding him at arm’s length, “You did a fantastic job decorating.”

“Thank you, Mama,” he mumbles, pulling her back for another hug.

“Alright, where’s my extra son?” She looks around for a moment before making eye contact with Daniel. She waves him down, watching the smile creep onto his face as he approaches her.

“Oh, my sweet little dumpling,” She has always had a soft spot for him, “I would never leave without a big hug from you.” She pulls him into a bear hug, rubbing his back a few times.

“Missed you so much,” He can’t help the giggle that comes from him at the pet name he gained as a child.

I stand there watching my brothers both say goodbye to our Dad, giving him quick hugs per usual. Dad was never one for the emotional situations, but he’s loosened up over the years. Looking over at me, he gestures for me to go to him.

“I know we’ll see you guys in the morning,” he starts, looking down at the floor with his hands tucked in his pockets, “But I just want you to know. I really am proud of you, kid.”

He looks back up at me, and his eyes look like they’re struggling to fight the emotion.

“Thank you,” Without a second thought, I wrap my arms around him.

He pats my back a few times before pulling away from the hug, “I can tell how much this place means to you, and I’m just so happy for you.”

He points behind me, letting out a small laugh.

I can hardly turn around before being bombarded by my mother.

“I’m glad you made it for the opening night,” I whisper.

“Sweetheart, I wouldn’t miss this,” She whispers back, pressing a few kisses to my cheek, “Can’t tell you enough how proud I am,”

I place a kiss on the side of her head, “I love you, Mum.”

I let Sam walk our parents out, returning to my place behind the bar. Happily watching Josh mingle with customers, it’s nice to see him existing in an environment that suits him. He just beams when he gets to be social and himself; Josh is much too loud and animated for his current job, and he needs something like this.

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

“We’ll be back for sure!” rings through the bar as the last patrons walk out.

Pulling the doors shut and locking us in, I spin on my heels to face Josh, Sam, and Daniel. We all just stare at each other for a few seconds, even though it feels longer, and we cannot contain the laughter of disbelief. We did it… I did it.

Josh quickly closes the distance between us, pulling me into a hug. Being twins has created a very different bond; he’s my best friend. I don’t think I would have had the courage to purchase the bar if it hadn’t been for him in my ear reminding me that I could do it.

“I just want you to know that,” Josh starts, “I’m so proud of you, and I will always be here to help you, even if you don’t want to ask for it,” his voice shakes slightly.

“Thanks, bub. I love you,” squeezing Josh one more time. I hope he knows I’m always ready to do the same for him.

“I think this calls for celebration, don’t you?” Daniel asks, walking over to us holding beers.

“Cheers!” I holler, raising my beer for everyone to join. We all share a well-deserved celebratory moment after the last six months.

I grab a towel from behind the bar, walking back to one of the tables where Sam collects cans and glasses.

“Isn’t this what Dad used to play all the time in the car?” Sam asks while I’m wiping down the table. I listen a little more closely, realizing it’s absolutely one of our dad’s favorite songs.

“I was a little too tall, could’ve used a few pounds,”

We sing along as it plays, laughing hard as I whip Sam with the towel. He flips me off before walking away with a few glasses in his other hand.

We all slowly cleaned and serenaded each other, which made us giggle like a bunch of little kids.

“Workin’ on our night moves,”

Josh sings dramatically, holding his half-drunk beer like a microphone.

“Mmmm, in the sweet summertime”

This time, he leaned over to me so we could sing together, just like we used to as kids in the back seat.

“We were just young, restless, and bored,” Daniel sings as he walks from the back room.

Suddenly, the piano starts ringing through the bar, and we all find Sam playing along with the jukebox. I’ll let it slide since he was incredibly helpful today.

“And we'd steal away every chance we could

To the backroom, to the alley or the trusty woods.”

I finish gathering all the trash and tossing the bags near the back door. Josh still plugging away, cleaning all the glasses while serenading us all.

“And I waited on the thunder,” I sing, turning to point at Josh, knowing that he will absolutely know what to do next.

As expected, Josh belts out the line, “Waited on the thunder.” he always had a way of making the entire room laugh.

“When you just don't seem to have as much to lose.”

I prop open the back door to bring the trash out. A robust and crisp breeze envelopes me. It smells like it could snow.

“Strange how the night moves

With autumn closin' in”

I take a deep breath. The cold air is refreshing after a long night. After tossing the trash, I walk back inside to the sound of hysterical laughter. The three of them bent over in a fit of giggles as they all yelled the backing vocals.

“(Night moves) I remember, I remember, I remember, I remember.”

In the moment, I think to myself, If you can’t beat em, join em. I drape my arm over Josh’s shoulders as I shout with them. Giving him a double pat on his chest as we all laugh together.

“Alright, boys, let’s go home,” I tell them in my finest English accent.

I make my way over to the door, holding it open for them to file through. I took one last glance over to make sure we took care of everything.

“I remember, I remember,” I sing under my breath, flipping the lights off.

Caravel Tavern Master Post | Masterlist | Taglist

Sparrow Of The Dawn Chapter One

Book 1 of the series; Sam x Willa (Fem OC)

Taglist:

@gvfsstardust, @peaceloveunitygvf, @myleftsock,@imleavingyoufornewyork,@threadofstars,@mindastreamofcolours,@dont-go-home-without-me,@literal-dead-leaf,@lizzys-sunflower,@ourlovesdesire,@mackalah,@klarxtr, @edgingthedarkness, @i-love-gvf

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word-wytch · 5 months

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tldr: extremely sappy and vulnerable post ahead

My baby, Don't Stand So Close To Me, turns one year old today.

After a lifelong history of abandoning creative projects, my love for the story I wanted to tell and my newly found passion for the art of writing finally surpassed my fear of rejection, and so I stepped out of the Shire and onto this very long road.

Listen, I know I'm talking about a fanfiction and being very dramatic, but in my opinion every creative endeavor holds the same amount of weight no matter if you're writing books for money, or writing songs for the radio, or songs played only in your bedroom. It all requires you to dig deep and face yourself.

This is the longest and hardest I have ever worked on a creative project in my life.

Over the course of the past year I have come to know myself in a way that I think only writing a novel chapter by chapter for an online community could accomplish. There have been some very dark times, but facing your shadow is always illuminating. Through it, I have grown exponentially both as a writer and as a person.

If I could offer one piece of writing (and life) advice it would be this: Let yourself be where you are. Love yourself here, now. You have been good enough, are good enough, and will be good enough, always. You have nothing to prove to anyone. Your only responsibility is to keep the flame of your joy for creating alive. And that's it. The rest will take care of itself.

I know this is easier said than done. I know this from the painful experience of having believed the opposite about myself at one point.

All artists want to be seen on some level, we need to be. But ultimately, no amount of external validation can supplement the intrinsic love you have for creating. It's even better shared with others, but it comes first from within. I would argue that even if all you had was an idea that made you so giddy that you had to run laps around the room, then you have it all. Your only job is to keep that love alive. It's what I'm chasing every day. More than followers, or notes, or any superficial measure of success. That feeling is everything. The love that I have for my art and this character is everything. The love that I have for myself is, ultimately, everything.

It is a natural part of the journey for all creatives to encounter blocks and adversities, so when it feels like you've lost that joy or you're dragging your forehead against your keyboard in the thick of it, please do not fret. The real secret is that you can never really lose the spark, because you are the spark. You'll feel it again. You're not broken. You haven't failed. Just love yourself anyway and let yourself be where you are, even if that's crying into your ice cream.

Because the gap between how you feel and how you want to feel is not something that once closed, will stay closed forever. It's something you love yourself back to again, and again, and again, and again. And maybe, after your muscles build and your blisters heal, you'll come to enjoy the journey.

For the first time in my creative life I truly feel seen. Thank you all for seeing me, for coming on this journey with me. Thank you to every reader who's left a kind word, every friend that I've made as a result of pursuing this. There are too many to name. I have never been a part of a fan community in this capacity and I feel so unspeakably lucky to have found such a home in this one.

I want to thank, most especially, the people who have both figuratively and literally held my hand throughout the last year behind the scenes. Thank you for sending me coffee, letting me bounce ideas, send massive emails, text feverish voice messages back and forth, keysmash spoilers at you, cry on your shoulder, and fangirl over our boy (and his teacher) @toxicjayhoo @storiesbyrhi @the-unforgivenn @munson-blurbs @jo-harrington @rip-quizilla

I love you.

#dssctm #dssctm updates #updates #personal

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rallamajoop · 9 months

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Moreau's secret romantic movie fixation

Most of what you’ll find online searching for cut content from RE8 really isn’t ‘cut content’ so much as ‘rejected ideas that never made it past the concept stage.’ Early plans like having Ada Wong swanning around the village in a plague mask or that Miranda would be a foreign researcher probably never got near the finished game. You can find tons of rejected early concepts like this in the extra concept art that comes with the RE7 DLC pack (or online, for all those who’d rather not shell out that much extra money for a few extra gallery files).

But there is at least one detail from that early concept art that I’m confident did make it almost all the way into the finished game, and it’s that little tidbit about Moreau’s love of sappy romantic movies.

The biggest single piece of evidence I can cite you for this is that you can still find an unused asset for a film poster that was meant to appear in Moreau’s room.

This was to be a collectable treasure item, like Dimitrescu’s lipstick and wine glass. There’s even a description for it ("Poster for an old movie Moreau liked. It's too damaged to read.") which feels pretty significant. There are plenty of other unused treasure item assets in that same folder (I’ll probably get to posting about them later), but the film poster is the only one I could find a description for – complete with translations into all the many different languages supported by the game. I’m guessing that means this one got really close to the final cut.

But the best part? If you look closely at that poster, you might just be able to make out the title. And if you google that title, it turns out this little game asset is based on a real poster for a real movie.

(Yes, that tagline really does read, "When Tragedy Struck, Love Came to the Rescue.")

I haven’t seen Ice Castles myself, but if the Wikipedia summary is to be believed, it’s a 1978 American romantic drama about a young figure skater who loses (most of) her sight in a tragic accident. With the help of her boyfriend, she eventually comes to accept that, because she can still see just well enough to make out the bounds of the rink, she can still work past her disability to realise her dreams. I don’t need to spell out why a film like Ice Castles might particularly appeal to someone like Moreau, do I? Poor guy.

The poster isn’t the only reason I’m convinced secret-romantic-Moreau made it almost to production. Let’s go back to that concept picture again, where Moreau is eating cheese while watching old romantic movies on his TV screen.

Well, the movie may not have made it in, but TV did. So did the cheese.

More importantly, consider the scene where Ethan sneaks up behind Moreau to find the Rose flask unattended. Moreau himself is looking away, apparently focused on his TV screen, though it shows only static. And then he vomits dramatically, and utters the words “Oh Mother Miranda, if it’s for you, I’d do anything.”

I mean, it’s obvious what was meant to be going on here, right? Moreau’s watching a film as Ethan walks in, and sighing at some torridly romantic scene. There’s probably just been some hero or heroine earnestly utter some similar dialog like, “Oh [insert name here], I’d do anything for you!” All the pieces are there except the film itself!

(Do we need to take a moment here to acknowledge the, er, Oedipal implications of Moreau comparing his devotion to Miranda to a presumably-romantic scene? Because... well, it can be easy to overstate that sort of thing, but I don't think it's a stretch to suggest Moreau really would do anything for Mother Miranda.)

So why didn’t the movie make the cut? Why are we left with Moreau watching only static from his poster-less room?

I can only speculate, but a few possible answers come to mind. Maybe the team worried that making Moreau a closet romantic would render their revolting fish-man a little too sympathetic, or a little too comical. Maybe they had trouble finding a film clip that worked for that scene without leaving Ethan awkwardly watching a movie over Moreau’s shoulder for longer than really worked. Maybe test audiences were so distracted by the film going on the background that they missed what was going on in the foreground with the Rose jar. Maybe there were licensing issues around including that Ice Castles poster, or whatever film footage they wanted to show (which I feel obligated to point out may have been some other film altogether). These kinds of snags get in the way of productions all the time. C’est la vie.

The scene still works without the movie playing. But it’s hard to miss what was supposed to be going on.

Still, while I’m talking Moreau, and Moreau’s TV, have a little bonus speculation about Moreau’s relationship with the guy who presumably installed that TV for him: Heisenberg.

It seems to be pretty popular out there in RE8-fanon land to cast Heisenberg as actually-very-fond of Donna, or the Dimitrescu daughters, etc etc – and that irks me a bit, because I’ve yet to see any take on it that feels in-character for anyone involved. Even putting aside Donna’s own issues and the whole Dimitrescu connection, Heisenberg’s seething contempt for the rest of his ‘family’ is not exactly ambiguous. But even with all that said, there are few intriguing hints that good ol’ Karl might just have the teeniest little soft spot for his ‘moronic freak’ of a brother, Moreau.

The big one is that tidbit from Moreau’s diary that I already touched on in my post on the four lords, where Heisenberg apparently comforts him about his place in the family:

Mother Miranda gave me a Rose jar. No one likes me which is why I thought they would leave me out again. But Heisenberg said that was why we each get a Rose. The ceremony cannot happen without us all there.

Now, you can debate how ‘comforting’ this would have come out in practice. Knowing Heisenberg, whatever he said may have been more of a sneering dig at Moreau's intelligence than real reassurance – but even so, just reminding Moreau that he's an essential part of the plan pretty could qualify as an uncharacteristically kind gesture (and perhaps only more so if Heisenberg knew even then that it was a comforting lie).

When I say Heisenberg ‘presumably’ installed Moreau’s TV, I do mean presumably. At the end of the day, there’s a TV screen in Moreau’s quarters that Heisenberg can hijack to spy on or talk to Ethan for the same reason there’s one in some back room behind a stronghold full of lycans: the plot requires it to be there, and it’s easier to use the same asset twice. But it’s no fun sticking to rigidly Doylist analysis, so what could be the story behind it? Have some possibilities:

Moreau got hold of the TV himself, but Heisenberg snuck in at some point and modified it so he can use it to spy on his ‘brother’, without Moreau’s knowledge.

Heisenberg installed or repaired the TV for Moreau under the guise of letting him watch films on it, but secretly also uses it as a monitoring device.

Moreau is fully aware the TV can be used for remote communication and chats to Heisenberg through it regularly. Given that his film obsession didn’t make it into the finished game, maybe that’s all he thinks it does. Maybe he was even just talking to Heisenberg before Ethan walks in.

Though that first option is a workable interpretation, you could also question what Heisenberg imagined he’d ever see Moreau doing that was worth spying on. Our other obvious options are that Moreau thinks Heisenberg installed that TV for the primary purpose of enabling his 900th rewatch of The Shape of Water (oh come on, you know he loves that film), or that it’s so they can talk without leaving home. Heisenberg’s still a creep for rigging it to spy on him, but there’s another surprisingly thoughtful gesture buried in there somewhere.

There’s one last barely-qualifying little detail that intrigues me, and that’s that both Moreau and Heisenberg seem to have similar ideas about Miranda’s plans for Ethan. Heisenberg states outright that he believes Miranda is testing Ethan, to see if he’s worthy of joining her family. And Moreau bemoans that ‘It’s not fair, I should be with her, not you!’

Neither Dimitrescu or Angie echo any similar ideas, and nor does anything Miranda actually says to Ethan suggest Heisenberg has the right idea (like so much in this mad fairy tale, the vibes are much stronger than the internal consistency). But if Moreau has the same idea as Heisenberg, despite being so generally clueless about the Rose jars and Miranda’s intent, it’s natural to suppose it’s Heisenberg he got it from. So we’ve got another possible hint that Heisenberg’s closer to Moreau than his other siblings.

To be clear, none of this means Heisenberg has ever been nice to Moreau. He dismisses Moreau as a moronic freak, and seems unbothered by Moreau’s death. Moreau’s diary makes clear that no-one in the family is nice to him, or generally ‘includes him’ in things (though it’s hard to imagine they much include each other either). Even hinting to Moreau about Miranda’s plans could well have been a means to goad him into conflict with Ethan. I doubt Heisenberg would have had much interest in sitting down to watch Moreau’s favourite movies with him either.

But it’s not hard to imagine Heisenberg basically viewing Moreau something of an annoying, stupid, snot-nosed little brother – pitiable, but not too pathetic to inspire the odd gem of real sympathy or uncharacteristic kindness. Heisenberg’s obviously spent years telling himself that only the strong survive, that those ignorant villagers deserve their lot, that he can’t afford weakness, but it’s tempting to think that maybe giving Moreau that TV wasn’t a completely cynical gesture. After all, doesn’t every Frankenstein-wannabe need an Igor?

To finish, have some more extracted assets of Moreau-related pics from Miranda's laboratory. I just love the style and detail that went into these.

#Salvatore Moreau #Karl Heisenberg #Resident Evil Village #Resident Evil #cut content #unused assets

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raynavan · 1 month

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heavy spoilers for chapter 23 of Always by your side by @ingo-ingoing-ingone!! this chapter was so fantastic i. didnt have words for it. ended up doing 6 (nearly 7) drawings for it instead. i think this is my record- it took me roughly 7 hours. a fair warning! this is both art and a comment to the fic in one. so its rather long!

ok i had an Unreasonable amount of fun doing the background on this one. ended up looking up a lot of the celestial bodies mentioned in the fic, man are they cool! it was implied that Emmet didn't really have a body so! stars instead. the colors were fun- i dont often let myself just. color like this haha! this one was... reall amazing. a fantastic opener! i immediately latched onto the visuals and painted a picture in my mind. it was just so... astronomical?

i actually struggled with how i was going to position these two for a while. at first it was just them coloring in a clearing- then i made them watching pokemon, and then. this! idk- there just something sweet in how Ingo turns around to look at Emmet and... lighting was funky for this one- how a forest shades the things beneath it will always hold a special place in my heart. these two interacting is always so wonderful to read. the gentle ribbing and teasing and... just them chilling and talking was so nice. the fact that it was dragons was even better! dragons are the best. i felt a very sweet and gentle moment needed an equally sweet and gentle drawing. if i could, i might have gone for line less on Ingo and Emmet here as well.

right- this was the last one i did. i think its the only one that i didn't get specifically from what was written. i just... wanted to give Emmet cuddles alright? /lh i had another sketch exploring exactly what Emmet might look, but i think ill revisit that when i... haven't been drawing for 7 hours straight hgfireohgope. the one in this is more simplified. the horror of having your face show one emotion- not even the one your most known for... your voice is toneless and the only was you can show even a fraction of what you feel is by copying what you (supposedly) dead brother used to do. there is a quiet horror in that- and yet Emmet still goes on. he cant feel texture and yet... he deserves many nice things.

this one!!! was originally going to be an Entire piece with a more "realistic" drawing of Ingo sitting behind a fire just like this. when i sketched this out (in the middle of reading it) that was the plan. Jedi saved me by making Emmet draw it like this. you saved me probably an hour ghirepoghpeirh. i... still might draw it how i wanted at some point. also the lighting was added last minute! i thought it would look... more messy with the light of the fire shining on it. i think it looks nice. the scene was sweet and, like Emmet mentioned he did, i put emphasis (or uh... thicker more defined lines) around peoples faces to better define their happiness. it made me happy to read them being happy and then draw them being happy <3

them!!!!!! i do not think it is a secret at All how much i love this au. i was More than happy to draw them again. and!!! being happy!!! perfect. i remembered this was a dream, and decided to blur the background quite a bit of this one- lopsided like its not really being thought about. adored this one. them!! teasing each other!! just!! going through a day!! perfect. amazing. it was really fun the way the small details of their routine was captured. from Ingo just. turning to goop so he doesn't have to pick up his clothes to Emmet just. accepting everything that happened from the mental connection to the shared feelings.

DRAMATIC FORESHORTENING!!!! i almost wanted to play it up More but then i might lose Ingo's expression. the background for this was fun to do- emphasis! strong colors!! looks like something broke. like something was torn away. this whole bit is just. exactly what Emmet fears and its just. ough. Ingo would never do this- we know this, Emmet knows this two- he knows how ridiculous Ingo was being here. and then the climax with Emmet just... falling off... amazing. Ingo's horrified expression is what caught my attention here, though i had a few more ideas depicting Ingo leaning over Emmet. i figured a dramatic drawing here would fit.

so! there ya go. i had. so much fun doing this and! thank you so much for writing this and sharing with us Jedi. if you keep this up, ill just have to keep making more drawings!! i don't think words are enough- not even sure if these can properly express how i felt reading it all (i actual had to get up and pace around bc i got so excited) but! i think that your art inspired my own art is a very beautiful thing.

lets all keep making art with one another forever.

#submas #submas au #ray's art #ingo #emmet #ray rambles #man.#sometimes #you encounter something that strikes you hard enough to let you work for 7 hours straight #and its freaking amazing #ah- apologizes for any misspellings #i am rather tired haha- im not checking as thoroughly as usual #thak you jedi <3

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clearwillow · 5 months

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It's not "new" but I ran across these stills I'd saved for each check-in I did during In-spiration 5 and thought someone might like to see them. I failed to record any of the process over the summer because I was also working on my coloring book, but I promise you there were a fuck ton of layers even by the end.

Some nerdy notes about it under the cut if you're interested:

I started sketching this idea out almost immediately after signing up - that's how hard the idea struck. I wasn't even planning to sign up originally but I'm glad I did cause I'd be kicking myself if I hadn't seen this idea out.

When I mean a fuck ton of layers, I mean fuck ton. The sketches folder has 17 separate layers so I could move around pieces. Like the book of shadows; I think I originally intended for it to be in front of her/us instead of to her right, but that would mean covering the circle.

Kagome and her materials are the only pieces that were given crisp lineart, and I still painted over portions of those lines. Everything else was painted under the sketch to block out its shape before I finished rendering it.

I think it's the first time I've ever given Kagome a nose stud and my eye kept going to it each time thinking something was wrong XD

Inuyasha's showing a bit more in that reflection than I originally meant to show, but yes he has the hip and cheek stripes.

If you look real close at the book of shadows, the text might look familiar. Might need to view it on ao3 though. Oh hey look here's another link to it so you can give Lavendertwilight some love 😉

Because I wanted the lighting to be more dramatic than what I usually lean towards, I had to duplicate the glow of the candles and still add a more contrasting shadow to the upper corners to make the room darker without losing any of the work.

#inuyasha #kagome #inukag

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chloeseyeliner · 2 months

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so, this may seem completely random to some, but.

since i have decided not to log in on tumblr/stay off the tag for the next couple of days, until i am able to watch the third season- personal choice i don't need distractions from doing some work/school stuff, a.k.a. my curiosity having the upper hand and me ending up spoiling myself, lol- i want to wish everyone in the fandom happy watching, whenever you do so.

i am aware we still have one week for the finale plus the documentary, but i just want to say, despite not seeming to be a very active member of the fandom and lurking in the shadows, these almost (key word: almost, hehe) three years of being a part of this whole thing, which was one of the reasons i decided to create a tumblr account (a year too late, haha) in the first place, have been wonderful- with the exception of very few incidents i won't bring up right now.

even though i may not always show it by rebloging and the like, i am always amazed by the way people put the puzzle pieces together, by their wittiness and their humour, by their talent and creativity- and by our collective decision of learning/trying to learn swedish at some point, lol. so, from a stranger on the internet who happens to love the same show as you, you guys (gender neutral) rock. this show, in spite of being the amazing, inspiring, heart-breaking and heart-warming creation that it is, wouldn't be the same without any one of you- and i am not saying us, because the only thing i have contributed in the past years is screamingcryingthrowingup over the characters' breathing. lol.

i don't want this to seem like a goodbye to the show post, because it's always going to be there, and, as some may say, it's just a show. but the thing is, it doesn't really feel like just a show sometimes. personally, i'll keep posting about it from my deathbed. and i cannot wait for the actors and the whole crew's projects about to come. they are very talented and promising and wonderful.

i watched young royals a "rainy" day of july 2021. back then, i don't think i realised how important it would be to me. to many people around the globe of course, not to seem selfish here.

so, happy watching, y'all (i am not american, i just unironically like y'all, haha). this fandom (a 99% majority of it, anyway) has been and will always be great and so freaking funny- i am so looking forward to the memes created by the scenes of the (not-so-little-anymore) dramatic swedish show we love and cherish like our baby.

till the end of the week where you'll see me losing my mind over everything*,

i hope you have a nice watching.

*also, this post is a formal apology to the mutuals and the people whose posts i'll reblog. i'll try not to be insufferable. not promising anything, though. hehe.

#this is a fandom appreciation post #because i always talk about the show which yes is a masterpiece in itself #but the analyses? the memes? the inside jokes? the fanart and the fanfictions?#they are all so great not to appreciate #also if this post seems selfish tell me so #(can you tell i am not used to used the first person in any conversation ever lol?)#less than a day for our children to come back #kristina i am still waiting for you in the corner #august you're welcome to join your dear aunt as well #i just want to talk #(rambling for no reason)#young royals #young royals season three #anyway #maria's random posts

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127luvr · 1 year

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Hi there👁

Can I request a fic in which a male reader is getting married to Minho(Shinee) and is all shy about it

And yet, Minho is so awestruck by how beautiful his husband looks. Makeup, the tuxedo, his hair, the fact his ring is so shiny and ornate, etc

He absolutely cannot take his eyes off y/n and is so happy to go onto a new chapter in his life.

Love Sick

Choi Minho x Male Reader

Minho is used to being in the spotlight. He is used to having hundreds—even thousands—of people looking up at him for hours at a time. You knew this was nothing to him. You can’t help but fidget with the hem of your blazer, darting your eyes back and forth between your friends and family to the end of the aisle. This is nothing compared to the crowds he’s had to face but it’s just as terrifying to you.

You hear the music swell, followed by a harsh decrescendo as you spot Minho across the room.

You can’t help but hold your breath as you stared him down from his dress shoes to the top of his brown hair. His tuxedo is much more dramatic than yours. The tailcoat that hugged his waist perfectly was long—hitting the back of his thighs as he made his way towards you. The tips of the collar turned up—instead of down—behind his (f/c) bowtie. You let out a shaky breath, losing sight of all the people that sat, turned to see him walk towards you. Maybe it wasn’t the people making you nervous. It was the act of the wedding itself with Minho.

Minho is speechless when he finally gets to see you up close. His eyes full of nothing but admiration as he takes in your face. (H/c) hair was styled naturally—a few pieces slicked back to show your face and accentuate the light makeup that sat on your face. He takes in the highlights that sit on the tops of your cheekbones—the tip of your nose and right on top of your lips. There is a neutral brown that surrounds your eyes and a tint of red that sits in the center of your lips. He can’t help but tear up—taking your hand in his—finally letting a tear free when he sees the engagement ring he got for you sitting pretty on your left hand.

He has a lump in his throat that he can’t quite swallow. Even as he recites his vows he can’t help but choke up at the countless memories he wants to bring up—but simply can’t. Otherwise you’d be there for hours.

You bring a hand up to cup his face, making the moment as intimate as you could. As if only the two of you were in the room. You let your thumb run across his soft cheek—playing with his hair with the rest of your fingers.

“(Y/n), at the risk of exposing myself as cheesy and romantic in front of my family—” chuckles are heard from the front, reminding you of the audience that watched the two of you from afar. “You make me so happy—more than you could ever imagine. You are the only person that I want to see at the end of a long day—the only person I want to see after having been on back-to-back schedules because I always want to hear what you have to say. How your day has been. You are my priority. I promise to provide you with whatever you need from me.” Minho pauses, grabbing your hand from his face and bringing it to his lips, he kisses it before taking the ring from the officiant, sliding it on to your finger. “But you know all of this. This is nothing new because our relationship has always been compared to an old married couple.” Another roar of laughter.

He doesn’t stop there—bringing up memories from years ago that you didn’t even realize he remembered. But the rest of the night is a blur, you can hardly remember reciting your own vows as you had felt like you were in daze the whole day.

You finally ground yourself at the reception—having changed into much more comfortable shoes to share your first dance with Minho. He grabs you by the waist, leading the dance as you laid your head on his shoulder. The steps are lazy, still going to the rhythm of the song the two of you had picked months ago. You wish it would never end, that the music would never stop and you could just sway along to it with your husband.

Your husband.

“Minho. We are married.” You feel his shoulders shake, his laugh coming from deep within his stomach as he gives you a nod. “We’re husbands, you know? You should’ve drawn up a prenup because now you’re stuck with me.”

“(Y/n), I could barely get a word out to you because I was too busy admiring you. You should worry about having to be stuck with me.” Minho looks down as the two of you sway, letting out a fond smile as he feels your arms tighten around his middle. “You have no idea how long I’ve been waiting for this, (Y/n). I love you so much.”

#Choi Minho #Minho Shinee #Shinee #Minho x male reader #shinee x male reader #x male reader #hi thank you for requesting 😆🫶#he may be a little ooc im rusty when it comes to shinee 😟#<3

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animebw · 3 months

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Thinking back on it, I'm realizing there aren't many straightforward idol anime I actually like. Like, Zombieland Saga is lots of fun, but the idol stuff is consistently the weakest part of it and I always feel myself tuning out whenever that's the focus. I guess I liked Heroines Run the Show before it went to shit in the back half? Does Ya Boi Kongming count? Symphogear, technically? Maybe Hanayamata? I dunno, I feel like all those shows have asterisks that keep them from being straightforward idol-y enough to qualify. Meanwhile, by far the most traditional idol show I've watched so far has been Shine Post, and hoooooooo boy did I end up hating that one.

I think the problem is, as I grow increasingly cynical and jaded in my old, withered age of 25 years old, the overwhelming positivity that defines the idol genre starts to feel forced and cloying. It's easy enough for "believe in yourself and try your best" to work as an overall theme if you're sincere enough to pull it off. But the second that theme becomes an obligation or an afterthought, it can very quickly turn a show into the most suffocating, shrink-wrapped piece of sanitized goop imaginable. It becomes a way for a story to avoid being about anything, spouting generic platitudes and cynically designed cuteness with all its edges sanded down and dull. When I look at the weaker idol anime I've watched, I don't see stories that come by their earnestness, well, earnestly. I see coldly calculated, market-tested corporate branding exercises that say nothing, express nothing, and don't dare step a single toe out of line. A plastic smile plastered across an empty styrofoam mannequin, babying its audience with lazy, simplified moralizing because it doesn't think they're capable of anything more complex than Teletubbies, and god forbid we lose a single audience member trying to actually make an artistic statement.

But that's the thing about Juuki Hanada as a writer.

When this man wants to get messy?

He gets fucking messy.

So much of what makes Hanada's writing so powerful, in comedy and drama alike, is how well he's able to let the reins go of his characters and let them crash into each other. Snappy one-liners and comebacks battling for dominance, chaotic personalities setting off fireworks of all kinds through their interactions, but also raw, ugly emotional confrontations that don't sugarcoat anything out of fear his audience isn't mature enough to handle it. Not all of his stuff is a masterpiece- I could spend hours talking about how badly Kyoukai no Kanata's plot falls apart in the second half, Steins;Gate gets more and more exhausting the more I think about it- but even his weakest works carry the unmistakable passion of a writer holding nothing back. And when he's firing on all cylinders? You might just end up with the single greatest coming-of-age tale this medium has ever produced.

And it turns out, that sensibility is exactly what a show like Love Live needs to succeed. Because even the most optimistic, inspirational story imaginable needs that edge to temper itself against. The sheer chaos of its lovable cast bouncing off each other isn't just what makes the comedy work so well, it's what lets these dramatic moments sting the way they need to. Because it's only in recognizing these harsher moments- failure, frustration, despair- that its triumphs are able to be so meaningful. I care about Muse because I've seen what it looks like when they fall short, and I care about Honoka because this show lets me see her at her lowest, at her most human and vulnerable. These characters aren't just plastic simulations of cute girls selling a fantasy; they feel like a real friend group, messy and anarchic and free. Free to express themselves with the full palette of the human experience, even the parts most of us would rather pretend didn't exist. And it makes their successes matter in a way they wouldn't if we didn't have that grounding in the unbearable chaos of being.

Love Live is not a deconstruction, or a subversion, or a dark parody or anything so gauche. It's nothing more of less than a straightforward, inspirational idol show. But it's a straightforward, inspirational idol show that knows it doesn't have to sacrifice its raw humanity to shine with the brightest stars in the sky. And that, folks, makes all the difference in the world.

#anime #tabw #the anime binge watcher #love live! school idol project #love live!#love live #2013 aniwatch

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drpeppertummy · 10 months

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sunny does a food challenge and dies (bad belly ache)

i was just gonna respond "sunny voice I Have Died. Badly." & then i wound up making a whole thing of it Ok

[stuffing, tummyache]

"Hey, look at this." Sunny rapidly whacked Laurie's arm with the menu and pointed to it. "Says if one person finishes this thing the whole party eats free. You think I can do it?"

"Absolutely not," said Laurie.

"No," said Gray.

"Have you ever learned anything in your life?" asked Wendy.

"You know he hasn't," said Carrie, rolling her eyes.

"Sounds like a bad idea," agreed Dave.

"I'm doing it," declared Sunny, slapping the menu down on the table. A wave of groans and facepalms rippled across the group.

It occurred to Sunny that he may have been too confident only when the waitress set the platter down in front of him. She'd asked him about six times while taking their orders if he was sure, and each time he'd insisted. Now, with the daunting arrangement of pancakes, eggs, potatoes, sausage, bacon, fruit, and toast staring back up at him, he was beginning to wonder if every single other person at the table had been right.

"Sunny?" Laurie looked at her friend.

"Shut up," he said. Laurie rolled her eyes, not trying very hard to hide her amusement.

"Just try not to make yourself puke, alright?"

"I am not going to make myself puke!"

"Whatever you say," she said, dipping into her own normal-sized breakfast. Sunny didn't look up from his monster platter. He didn't want to know what anybody else was thinking, and he told himself he didn't care. With a look of determination, he picked up his fork and got to work.

The first bite of pancake perked Sunny's confidence up a little bit. Diner pancakes were high among his many favorite foods, and these, sweet and fluffy and riddled with blueberries, were no exception. Still, he was smart enough to know that the pancakes would fill him up the fastest. As much as he wanted to shovel them in all at once, he pulled himself away and ate a few bites of the buttery potatoes, and then a piece of bacon. The fruit, he determined, should be dispersed throughout to help cut the weight of the greasy, carb-heavy meal.

Sunny was silent as he ate. Despite his initial worry upon seeing the platter, he was actually enjoying his breakfast, and was too busy eating to join the happy chattering of his friends. He was about halfway through his eggs and a quarter of the way through his pancakes. The meats, which he thought would lose their appeal the second they cooled off, were almost gone. He'd barely made a dent in the potatoes, which seemed to be regenerating every time he scooped some up, and he hadn't made any moves against the toast, which had almost no appeal to him. He ate a strawberry and then finally picked up a piece of toast.

"Hey, how's it going over there?" Laurie reached over and patted his belly. Sunny looked up, startled. He'd been lost in his own little world.

"Great," he said with his mouth full.

"If this is all it takes to shut you up, maybe we should come here more often," she teased, playfully pinching his side. He made a face at her.

"Maybe you should get this next time, if that's how it works," he said, pointing at the platter with his fork.

"Oh, kids, play nice," Wendy said wearily. Both of them sighed dramatically at her. Laurie gave Sunny a final pat and returned to her waffles. Sunny returned to his breakfast as well, but not with the same energy as before. Laurie had brought him back to his senses a little bit, and he was suddenly aware of how full he was. His belly was pushing out against his snug shirt. Right now, he felt comfortable, but his stomach was beginning to feel tight and heavy, and he realized it wouldn't be long before he crossed the line into tummyache territory.

Reluctantly, Sunny started eating his piece of toast. There were four pieces total. Those, along with the pancakes and the heap of potatoes, had him worried. Especially the pancakes. As much as he loved them, a nice stack of pancakes always left Sunny feeling like he was going to explode. In this particular instance, he was already full, and he hadn't even made it halfway through them yet. He tried to ignore his stomach as he ate, but the growing pressure inside his belly became more distracting with each bite. He finished his first piece of toast, ate another strawberry, and began the second piece.

After forcing down his second piece of toast, Sunny decided to return to the pancakes. He'd have to finish the toast eventually, but it was too unappetizing to eat all at once. The pancakes, on the other hand, held onto their appeal even as his stomach began to ache. Unfortunately, they were also unbelievably filling. Sunny thought he could feel his tummy expanding with each fluffy bite. He absently rested his free hand on his stomach as he ate. When only a quarter of the stack remained, he decided to switch to the pile of potatoes before the pancakes did him in.

His belly felt very tight now, and the potatoes weren't helping. They were bulky and heavy in his already overstuffed stomach. They also seemed endless. Sunny had spent most of the meal hunched over his breakfast, but he needed a break. He leaned back in his seat, rubbing his belly, which was very noticeably round.

"You done?" Carrie asked, eyeing her friend's distended stomach.

"No."

"What?!" Laurie looked incredulously at him. "Sunny, come on! You're obviously beyond full. There's no way you can finish all that." They both looked at his plate. On it remained a small chunk of the pancakes, two pieces of toast, a decent amount of potatoes, and a few more pieces of fruit. His stomach gurgled unhappily.

"I can too," he said.

"Look at your belly," said Laurie, giving his bloated stomach a poke. "You're gonna pop if you eat any more."

"I am not," he argued, shooing her hand away, although he wasn't entirely sure she was wrong. His belly felt like it was about to split open. Now, though, the determination to prove himself had returned. He sat up again and started on his remaining toast.

"Sunny!" Laurie exclaimed. She looked across the table at Wendy, who was rolling her eyes. The rest of the group were finishing up their breakfast, and Sunny was hell-bent on joining them. He ate both pieces of toast quickly, briefly reinvigorated by his desire to prove Laurie wrong. The rush soon wore off, however, and the feeling of fullness returned more overwhelmingly than ever. A dull nausea struck him momentarily, but it passed, and he picked up a forkful of potatoes. His hand faltered as he brought it to his mouth, but he pushed on. Bit by bit, stomach stretching to its limit, he eliminated the potatoes.

Sunny paused to take a breath, looking down at his nearly-empty plate. On it remained a little bit of fruit and the last of the pancakes. He was finally in the home stretch, but he wasn't sure he could make it. His tummy felt like it couldn't possibly take any more. He looked down to see it bulging far over the waist of his pants. He waited for another moment and then, holding one hand against his far-too-tight belly, he got to work on the pancakes. There was only a small portion left, but each bite still felt like too much. Slowly, however, against even his own expectations, he managed to finish them.

Now all that remained before him were two grapes and a strawberry. The grapes were small, and a refreshing change from the carbs he'd been stuffing himself full of. He got them out of the way with relative ease. The strawberry was large and a deep, enticing crimson. He picked it up and examined it. His stomach was stretched so tight that it was almost difficult to breathe; his belly could barely accommodate the space to inhale. For a moment he felt absolutely certain that if he ate that strawberry his belly would burst open right then and there. He hesitated, rubbing his stomach, then looked down at his empty plate. No, he'd done it. Even Laurie would have agreed that it would be stupid to give up now. With a sigh, he ate the strawberry.

Despite his worries, Sunny remained intact, but he didn't feel good at all. He leaned back in his seat again, both hands on his belly. Laurie stared at him in disbelief.

"Jesus H. Christ, Sunny," she said, astonished. "Are you okay?"

"No."

"I cannot believe you did that." She placed her hand on his tummy, feeling how tight it was. "You are completely out of your mind, you know that?"

"Yeah."

"Well, your complete lack of sense saved us the bill, so I guess we owe you a solid," said Dave. Sunny gave him a thumbs up and closed his eyes.

#writing #belly kink #tummy kink #stuffing #stuffed belly #message #suggestion #<- kinda #xsunnyx #xlauriex #xcarriex #xwendyx #xgraythehumanx #xdavethehumanx #burst mention #lookit me having multiple ocs with the same name

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awrestlinggirlwholoves80sbands · 5 months

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Dear fucker Nikki (fanfiction)

A/N: This little letter was born out of nowhere and will probably give you a toothache but it needed to get out. Plus it was Nikki's birthday yestarday, so why not? A huge thanks to @glamourizedcocaine for their wonderful handwriting <3

Dear Nikki,

you are probably wondering who the fuck I am but don’t bother because I don’t exist. Well, I should say I don’t exist yet but I will. See, I’m Nikki from 2023 your 65 years old version and as you can see we didn’t lose our love for making things as complicated and dramatic as we can.

Let’s start with the big question: how in the hell did we get to 65 years old? I’m still wondering about it myself so I can only give you my honest opinion : we pulled our heads out of our ass and someone up there took mercy on us. Does this answer satisfy you? Probably not, but I’m here to explain.

Right now it’s December 11 1987 for you. You are all alone in your Van Nuys house, shooting up under a Christmas tree and wondering why nobody loves you or why did your family abandon you. “Why does living feel so draining?” you used to say or I should say I used to say but I prefer referring to you as a separate being. Loneliness is eating you alive as much as your addiction is destroying your life piece by piece, you know that but you are too scared to admit it. You need help but you don’t know how to ask for it.

Second question: why are you writing to me, your past self? I could say it’s because I’m an egocentric bastard or because I want to leave something to this world but I’d be lying. The simplest answer is that I felt the need to.

The more complex one is that we live in a fucked up world, where each day everything seems to fall to pieces and the opioids epidemic seems to take more and more lives. It doesn’t matter how much I try to take action because it never seems enough but if I know something that did help that was the book I wrote about our story so maybe this letter will too.

However deep down I know you can read through my bullshit. Even after all these years I still think I can trick people but I end up looking like a child with a mouth covered in sugar who swears he didn’t eat any candy. I didn’t completely lie when I said I’m doing this to help people but I omitted that I’m one of those people.

“What the fuck dude, you just told me we get to be 65 and now you tell me we are still need help?”

Well, everyone needs a little comfort sometimes even when you know all the tricks to take care of your mental health. I might be an old man but you still live in me, just like the little Nikki who has been hurted by everyone, simply some days I can hear your voices more loudly than others. I know the symptoms all too well : racing heart, general tiredness, the urge to fuck everything up, emotions all over the place.

So what do I do? Anything you wouldn’t do: allowing myself to feel the emotions instead of bottling them up, relaxing, distract myself and writing this letter. Knowing who I was and how far I’ve come, getting back in contact with you gives me hope for two reasons : reminds me I don’t want to get back to that and empowers me to heal. I thought nobody was there to comfort me so I’m letting myself from the future do it because sometimes it’s easier to be kinder to our younger versions even if they were a piece of work like you.

You’re worth it, just like I am. Even when the world feels like collapsing on itself, we are still worth it. We were worth it when I was you, a junkie, and we are when I’m just an old man playing bass. I just need to repeat it over and over until it becomes a part of me since the human minds are incredibly forgetful when it comes to their importance.

I want to leave you with hope, the same one that helps me going through all the hard times in my life. We made it, we finally got the family we always wanted : Gunner, Storm, Decker, Frankie and Ruby are all different ages and we love them with our whole heart. Ruby is only 3 now and she gets to receive everything we didn’t, especially since we are more mature compared to the others. I hope I’m a good enough father for them but sure I tried and keep trying my best. What matters is that it’s possible to break the abuse cycle and we are the living proof.

The band it’s still going after 40 years and after a brief pause we are still touring. So many teenagers love Motley Crue now because they made a movie about us, which allowed me to tell your story and show people there’s always light at the end of the tunnel.

Thank you Nikki for not giving up on us and coming back that night. Thank you for allowing me to blurt my feelings out in this letter on my birthday, while I’m hidden in my home’s studio while I get to roll a tear and move on. Thanks to all the other Nikki(s) who fell down and got right up because that’s what we do. And lastly thanks to myself for keeping fighting and making sure that future Nikki can enjoy his old age with a lovely family and badass fans.

It will get better for you and for me.

Sincerely yours

An old man you killed 36 years ago or Nikki Sixx.

#nikki sixx #motley crue #80srock #80s rock band #fanfiction #my fanfiction #letters

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