#rachel quilts!

[killyridols]

procession by rachel meginnes, 2023, digitally woven deconstructed quilts & unwearable textiles, 61 × 57 inches

#rachel meginnes #american art #textile art #fabric #quilts #2020s

[racheldreimiller]

I love doing these english paper pieced hexagons. These are using mostly Rachel Hauer’s Birds of a Feather collection through free spirit fabrics.

#quilt #quilting #hand quilting #paper piecing #english paper piecing #Rachel hauer #free spirit fabrics

[writerdream22]

requested by: anonymous, I really hope you like this ✨🌻💛

pairing: Chandler Bing x reader, Joey Tribbiani x reader (platonic), Monica Geller x reader (platonic), Rachel Green x reader (platonic), etc.

prompts used: “Have you ever seen anything prettier than this?” “Yeah, you”

warnings: mentions of smoking. English is not my first language so there might be some grammatical errors

feedbacks are always appreciated!

REQUESTS ARE CURRENTLY OPEN!

You did not like parties. At all.

It just was not your thing, and everyone knew that. That was the main reason why you had decided to stay home and relax rather than attend a Thanksgiving party with your best friends.

You did not understand why they were so attached to the tradition, anyways. The fact that you didn't grow up in an American household didn't help with that. Nonetheless, you weren't the only one who didn't always celebrate the festivity

“Do you have them?” Chandler Bing barged into your apartment. He held a couple of beers in one hand, and a bag in the other where there seemed to be some food.

“Yes.” you responded, sitting up from your sofa “I only had one quilted blanket, because Monica somehow couldn't tell me where she'd put the others. As for the pillows— well, I have two”. Chandler shrugged, then motioned for you to get going. You exited your apartment closing the door behind you, while silently hoping that none of your roommates came back while you weren't home.

───────────────────────────

There was a full moon. The city was still buzzing, it was amazing how its lights were never turned off. You loved it. And the company just added to your enjoyment of the night.

You'd laughed at Chandler's never-ending jokes for so long that your cheeks hurt, and you'd eaten so much that you swore you would never open a packet of chips again.

“Have you ever seen something prettier than this?” you questioned, looking up at the sky in awe .

Chandler stayed silent for a few, awkward moments, before responding. “Yeah” he said “you”.

What the hell?

“Are you... are you drunk? I can make you that strange smoothie that we always had in college, if you want—”

“— no, y/n” he interrupted you, rolling his eyes.

You were more confused than ever, so you asked Chandler what he meant by that. “I'll cut to the chase” he began “I love you, y/n. Everything makes me think about you: even when I just stare at the wall or drink a coffee, you're what's on my mind. And look, if you don't reciprocate my feelings, I totally get it.”

You couldn't find the words to answer coherently. Those damned feelings.

“Are you for real?” you questioned, to which Chandler responded “Yes. I know it's shocking, but I'm being serious this time”. He took a deep breath before adding that he was going to pass out if you didn't say anything.

“Oh, I'm sorry!” you exclaimed “Well, uhm... I love you too, Chandler. I have loved you since we first met... Since Ross and Monica introduced the two of us”.

He was clearly trying to hold back a smile, but he failed miserably at doing so when you nudged him and remarked that you had to throw out those “best friends” mugs that you'd bought as a joke a few years prior.

“Yeah... We should.”

You didn't think you could be happier on Thanksgiving Day.

#writerdream22 #reader insert #gif imagine #requests open #x reader #story prompts #friends x reader #friends imagine #f.r.i.e.n.d.s #chandler bing x y/n #chandler bing x reader #chandler bing imagine #chandler bing gif #chandler bing #monica geller x reader #monica geller #joey tribbiani imagine #joey tribbiani x reader #phoebe buffay #ross geller #requests are open #friends #rachel green

[mmagpye]

Rachel Goodwin Woodnutt, Quilt, 1827-1828, New Jersey USA

[daddycassie]

Welcome to my blog! 🐝☀️

It’s been a while since I’ve done an official introduction for my blog, so here is the new an updated one~

I’m Casper, you can call me Cas or Cassie <3 👻🎃

I’m an author, and I write for tbosas, aka the hunger games trilogy! I’ll write platonic headcanons for characters, x readers(fem or gender neutral, but mostly fem), ship headcanons, ship fics(snowbaird, coralbaird, dovecrane, dovecranebaird, dovebaird! Yes I know — odd selection, don’t be afraid to ask about any of them) Note that I do also write very specifically for Anthea from Shazam fury of the gods, and Maria from west side story 2021, I just love Rachel Zegler a lot <3

I keep requests open most of the time and try to get to them within a couple days but it really depends on how motivated I am, so sorry if it takes me a while to get to yours!!! 😭🫶

I write fluff, nsfw, and angst, don’t shy away from giving me your headcanons either, I love to hear from you guys!!!

I run two other accounts; @theclemmiedovecote and @barbazurebairdtrue ! These are character blogs that I am generally very active on, don’t be scared to say hello <3

Other characters include: @tamamberoffically @clerkcarmineclade @billytaupeclade @officialmaudeivorybaird @justlucygraybaird @s-plinth @arachnecrane @coralfisher @officallaminamason

If you wanna join in, any spot not listed here should be open!! We’d love to have you as a part of the fun.

Speaking of @ ing, these are some of my favorite people that you MUST follow!!!

@torturedcoveydepartment @sparklebear11 @sleepy-gee @noooooooop-e @lettersfrompanem @officialelioperlman-deactivated (may you rest in peace)

my wife @losingmymindrn gets their own spot because I bit her 😔 ILY FOREVER BABY

He is the CEO of Coralbaird and I’m her secretary ✏️📋

———

More about me ~ 🌼🌙

I was born on February 7th, making me an Aquarius ♒️

My MBTI is INFP ✨

my irl name is like covey 🌹

my favorite colors are yellow and pink 💛🩷

I go by all pronouns, but I am a lady ☺️

I am an out and proud lesbian who occasionally loves fictional men!!! But am currently smitten w/ Rachel Zegler and her characters so good luck dragging me away Coriolanus Snow 🫵

Some of my favorite things include; my moots, My dogs, Rachel Zegler, Tom Blyth, Crystals, the hunger games series, my wife, origami, the moon, writing/literature, bugs(especially spiders and beetles), candles, Halloween, Pumpkins very specifically, sweettarts, stuffed animals, old creepy things, stickers, Sanrio, card games, movies, pop figures, quilts, my quote books, pickles, theatre, TAYLOR FUCKING SWIFT!!!! (this list goes on too long I love too many things)

For now this is all I have… I’m sure I’ll add more so stay tuned pumpkins 🫶

#cassie being an idiot #cassie talks to YOU #yes you #Right there in the cool cloths #Intro #request are open #Asks are open #request currently in the works!!

[art-that-fucks-you-up-tournament]

SET SEVEN - ROUND TWO - MATCH FOUR

"In The Grip Of Winter" (2017 - Rachel Wright) / "NAMES Project AIDS Memorial Quilt" (1985-present)

IN THE GRIP OF WINTER: [no additional commentary] (anonymous)

NAMES PROJECT AIDS MEMORIAL QUILT: The sheer size and it's meaning make me cry every time. ( @artemistakenidentity )

("In the Grip of Winter" is textile art created by Rachel Wright. It was posted to her instagram in 2017.

The "NAMES Project AIDS Memorial Quilt" is an ongoing community art project honoring people who passed away due to AIDS-related causes. It consists of approximately 50,000 panels of 3 by 6 feet (0.91 m × 1.83 m) panels, which is an estimated 54 tons of material. It is currently housed in San Francisco, but is often displayed in various places in the United States.)

#art that fucks you up tournament #polls #atfyu polls #id in alt text #textile art vs nominally textile art

[mybeingthere]

Rachel Brumer is a Northwest fiber artist with studios in Seattle and Lopez Island. Originally from Oakland, California, Brumer received her BFA from Mills College.

Rachel Brumer is renowned for her rich layering of textures, and ever evolving language of shapes. Utilizing Van Dyke printed photography, thread, ink, dye, and wax, Brumer rubs, embroiders, silkscreens, drips, quilts, draws, and appliques.

Before pursuing fine art, Brumer spent many years touring the country as a professional modern dancer, and later worked as an interpreter of American Sign Language. No stranger to alternative modes of expression, Brumer is a fierce believer in non-verbal experience and the power of art. Her work in fiber began as a vehicle to commemorate a friend lost to AIDs, the medium and process serving as a way to involve loved ones of the departed. Community and remembrance remain motivating forces behind Brumer’s intricate fiber work.

[killyridols]

emanation by rachel meginnes, 2023, digitally woven deconstructed quilts & unwearable textiles, 39 × 27 inches

#rachel meginnes #american art #textile art #quilts #2020s

[victoriablyth]

pov: you're tom blyth

word count: 1198 letting everyone know this was a small thing i wrote for my english tutor! the prompt was to write about switching bodies with someone and how it would affect you and i decided to write about being in tom blyths body. but theres a twist. this pov is from someone who has NO IDEA about tbosas. i hope you enjoy this!! this is just a goofy thing i wrote <33 warning: its a lil bit cringy...kinda idk JUST READ IT. lmk if you want part two (might have spelling errors n shit sorry!!) Sunlight met my closed eyes. I could feel the warmth of the dim beam that crawled it ways out of the blinds. I slowly rised from the quilt that wrapped around my body all night. My eyes were still drowsy, still forcing my eyelids to shut, as I stretched. I clambered out of bed, still feeling lethargic. I rubbed my eyes, my hands more coarser than before. The shape of my face felt weird, it didn’t feel like it was my  face. As I fully opened my eyes, I look down to my hands. Long and pale, clearly weren’t the complexion it should be. The nails weren’t painted mars black like before. I put my hands to my cold cheeks. I could feel a short stubble growing. ‘What the hell?’ I mutter to myself. I then I realise something else. This wasn’t my room. I started walking toward a small door that likely led to a bathroom. I was right. When I turned on the heat bulb, the amount of luminosity blinded me for a second. But after my eyes adjusted to the lighting, the first thing I saw was my reflection. Or, it was the body I lived in. I was my celebrity crush, Tom Blyth. My piercing blue orbs widened in bewilderment. I stumbled back and I bumped  into the glass door that led to the shower. I slapped myself so I could wake up, I thought  it was a bad dream. But the burning sensation that was left after the slap felt real. It felt like I experienced the slapping in real time, not in a dream. Why is this happening to me? I pondered, as I gazed back at the body I was now using as a vessel for my soul. ‘Tom?’ A young female vocalized from outside. I didn't realize that she called  out to me until she faintly knocked on the door. I scrambled quickly out of the bathroom and opened the door. As I swung open the dainty white door, I saw one of my most favorite actresses of all time. ‘RACHEL???’ I exclaim, my eyes tried not to tear up as I absorbed her angelic presence. ‘Hi…Tom…’ She said, eyebrows knitted together in confusion. I forgot I was now Tom Blyth. ‘Did you forget to set your alarm to 4am again? We have to shoot scenes.’ Rachel continued, her tone serious. I nodded aggressively, and Rachel looked as if she witnessed a UFO fly over a wheat field. ‘Are you ok Tom?’ Rachel muttered. ‘Uhhh- nah I’m all good!’ I said, with a sheepish smile. Her eyes glare in dread as I showcased my pearly whites in an uncanny manner. I exited the caravan, and hopped in whatever direction that felt right. It was of course the opposite direction of where we set up for the shooting.

…

“TOM!” Francis scowled. I twisted my head towards Francis, the director of the movie I'm in, The Ballad of The Songbirds and Snakes. My lips curled in irritation, my annoyance now at the highest level it could possibly be. Before I thought about what I was about to say, the words spewed out like a volcano that vomited lava. `I AM NOT TOM OH MY DAYS BRO!’ I blurt out, my eyebrows knitted tightly in vexation. The whole room went silent. I was gagged, I once again realized that I am not in my own body, I am in Tom Blyths. “Uhm, well, I mean uhhh…what’s good France?” I said, doing that awkward grin I was doing the whole day. “Please don’t call me France.”  Francis said, his tone flooded with disappointment. “It’s your scene, Tom,” he continued. He awkwardly waddled off to his director's chair. Everyone gives me the same look of concern that I have been receiving for the past two hours. I slowly struted towards my scene partner, I tried to look confident. Josh Andres, my scene partner, awkwardly smiled at me. As I stood in front of the camera, he put his hand on my shoulder. “Tom, are you good?”. I look at Josh, with a stringy smile embroidered on my face. “I’m all good, I’m fine. No need to worry.” I responded. Josh looked at me confused, but then the lights were set. Cameras started rolled. A loud ‘ACTION!’ was heard from the producer. We’re filming already?!  I whispered to myself. I didn’t read or scan through the script, and I didn’t even know much about my role other than his name being Cornelius or something. “Coriolanus!’ Josh said, his face now in bewilderment. I stood awkwardly as I stared into his deep brown eyes which were now filled with desperation. He wanted me to say something. “Yes sir, I am Coral Anus” I say, trying to sound as sane as possible. Obviously, my improv did not go well. “CUT!” Francis said. Josh’s face twisted into distress. “Tom, we have been practicing this script for months, and you reply to my line with CORAL ANUS?” He splurts. “Yeah isn’t that my character?” I say, still smiling. “NO! YOUR PLAY CORIOLANUS!! WHAT ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT?” He continues. His face now in fear, as if saw his bestfriend die right infront of his eyes. “Ok, Tom, please tell me you are joking.” Francis exclaimed. Francis then adverted his gaze towards the crew. “Somebody pass Tom the script, he’s forgotten the lines.” …  As the cloudy night sky loomed over us, so did frustration. Josh shoved the muffin into his mouth. The curls that had once been done with the most finest moose, were now frizzy and tangled. Rachel sat motionless, staring outside the window. The air felt silent in small caravan. All the crew members were asleep, and it was just us three awake. I stretch my arms out, the fabric of my baggy pajamas letting me move freely.

“97 takes…” Josh said. His eyes had bags, dropping down while his eyebrows looked like they were magnets trying to connect. “97 GOD DAMN TAKES JUST TO FILM A SMALL INTERACTION BETWEEN ME AND HIM!!” He exclaimed, scrunching the muffin wrapper that laid in his huge palms. Rachel looked at me like she had just seen a deer in front of her headlights. “Are you really Tom? What’s going on?” Rachel spoke, as she bit through her apple. I couldn't detect whether she was being sarcastic or not. “Well..my pet-” I looked back down into Tom’s phone, scrolling through his photos, until I see a parrot. Me, or Tom was holding the green parakeet with a huge smile. “My parrot died.” I mutter, as I tried  to conceive fake tears in my eyes.

I shove the picture in Josh’s face, covering my eyes and making crying noises.”Tom, that is my parrot you’re holding. Remember when you came to my house? You held Barnaby?” Josh responded, as his irritation turned into fear. I stared back, the room now felt awkward with the pin drop silence. “Cig break guys!” I exclaim, and I slowly slither out of the room. “TOM YOU DON’T SMOKE!”

The first four hours of being in his body has certainly been a terrifying experience for everyone.

#tom blyth #tbosas #rachel zegler #josh andres rivera #fanfic #writers on tumblr #fanfic funny

[rachelstrxwberry]

Jesse, about Rachel: Imagine being married to her.

Jesse: It's like being smothered with a hand-quilted pillow filled with cherished memories.

Jesse: [pauses] I can't believe I'm complaining about how thoughtful my wife is.

Jesse: [looks up to the ceiling] I'm sorry, honey. I love you.

#glee #incorrect quotes #jesse st james #st berry #source: parks and rec #mine #didn’t queue flash your green eyes at me

[scrarefest]

It’s time for author reveals! We had so much fun this week, and we’re so grateful you joined us for another year of Rare Fest.

If you did enjoy these works, please don’t forget to show these authors some love by hitting that Kudos button and/or leaving some love with a comment. Don’t know what to say? Trust us — a simple “loved this!” or even a string of emojis goes a long way to make fanwork creators feel appreciated.

Without further adieu, let’s rip the blindfold off these amazing works!

Day 1

A Notebook Full of Wigs by jarofspiders

[David & Moira, Not Rated, 5,344]

One night, five year old David discovers that Moira names her wigs. This sparks an obsession that lasts over a decade, acting as a niche source of comfort in David’s increasingly tumultuous life.

***

Finding Her Own Way by StatueintheStone

[Ronnie/Karen, Explicit, 4,812]

When Ronnie turned 24 she headed east away from Regina, putting her past behind her. Hoping to find somewhere she belonged, to find a place where she fit in. A place where she could live the way she wanted, do as she wanted, and be content. She wasn’t interested in anything beyond a hookup, a flirtation, something with no attachments.

Until Karen.

***

Kitchen-wear by bl_anche73

[Ronnie & Patrick, Teen, 4,077]

Patrick hires Ronnie to remodel the kitchen at the cottage.

***

I Walk Through Life by AuthorByNight

[Alexis-centric, Teen, 2,073]

A character study of Alexis through four (platonic) relationships.

***

Father’s Day by coffee_and_glitter

[Stevie & Johnny, General, 733]

Stevie finds a way to let Johnny know how she feels about their relationship.

***

[podfic] coming home to you by hullomoon

[Stevie & David, Stevie & Patrick, Teen, 11:49]

There’s a room in the cottage that’s always ready for her, whenever she needs it.

It’s not a guest room. David and Patrick were very clear on that. The third bedroom is the guest room. But this, this is her room.

There’s Rose Apothecary products in the bathroom, even though she’d still use the drugstore brand if left to her own devices. There’s the old, battered quilt on the foot of the bed that David said didn’t go with the decor, but left it there for her anyway because he knew how much she loved it. There’s even a Sarah McLachan poster on the wall.

There’s a room in the cottage that’s always ready for her, and that’s why she’s definitely not crying on this airplane.

***

Day 2

Perfectly Fine by Meesh

[Jake/Mutt, Explicit, 22,385]

Mutt comes back to Schitt’s Creek for the birth of his brother, Roland Jr. There he meets a handsome stranger who connects with him over hard wood.

***

Blue Kamikazes for the Win by Turkey_Virgin

[Patrick & Rachel, Teen, 1,678]

The Toronto Blue Jays have made the playoffs, and there is only one person Patrick wants to celebrate with, and that person is Rachel. Can that fractured friendship be repaired?

***

Clean or Sloppy? by coffee_and_glitter

[David & Jocelyn, General, 578]

David has to make an uncomfortable confession to Jocelyn.

***

Daddy Issues by goodiecornbread

[David/Clint, Explicit, 1,564]

David calls his father-in-law a Silver Fox, and Clint shows his appreciation.

***

Day 3

Heaven help me, she’s walkin’ away by lizzie_bennetdarcy 

[Stevie/Ruth, Teen, 7,247]

“Why would I need two rooms?” Does Ruth usually get herself two rooms? Is that something she should be doing, for thoroughness or something?

“Because there are two of us?”

Wait. What?

Stevie has one more motel to hit before she can take a vacation, and this time Ruth is tagging along. The problem is, Stevie has fallen into old habits and booked the honeymoon suite.

***

Proud Mary by AuthorByNight

[Ronnie-centric, Teen, 4,747]

It’s 1997, and Veronica “Ronnie” Lee is in a small town for business. What she doesn’t expect is to stay - or for a fourteen-year-old rich kid to help steer her in the right direction.

***

i’ll stick by your side, if you’ll be right by mine by apothecarose

[Patrick & Twyla, General, 4,130]

Patrick is new in town and is immediately welcomed and befriended by Twyla. They bond over their crushes on the Rose siblings, baseball, and performing in Cabaret and become best friends.

***

Survivable by Turkey_Virgin

[Stevie & David, Teen, 1,450]

What did Stevie do for those three days David was missing? It was during those three days Stevie realizes just what David does mean to her.

***

riptide rush by fakingsincerity

[Alexis & David, Teen, 1,253]

***

(I Can’t Keep) Quiet (Any Longer) by DoctorMiguel-animal-lover 

[Jake/Mutt, Mature, 1,220]

Jake’s just innocently dropping off Mutt’s new table, when he hears something he probably isn’t meant to overhear and he can’t help but listen in..

Jake lifts the table down from the truck with a grunt. There’s no sign of Mutt waiting for him, but the barn door is open wide so he’s obviously expected.

He carries the table over to the barn, halting just outside, ready to call out Mutt’s name, when..

“Jake.”

..His name is a near breathless sigh, followed by a whimper.

***

Day 4

catch you when you fall by rosedavid

[Alexis/Twyla and Alexis & David, Teen, 9,718]

Alexis makes a surprise visit to Schitt’s Creek to spend some quality time with her girlfriend. But David is under the weather, and with Patrick out of town, Alexis tries her best to take care of him.

***

Hey, Brewer by iola17

[Patrick, Ronnie, Teen, 6,393]

A week before, Patrick would have said Ronnie asking for his help was impossible but when she comes into the store to do just that he tries his hardest, despite his confusion and questions. Even after she leaves, their interaction preys on his mind. Over the next few weeks something starts to shift between them but Patrick can’t help but be curious as to what started it all off and what Ronnie’s thinking.

***

here kitty, kitty by hullomoon

[Ted/Patrick, Teen, 1,352]

Patrick didn’t expect to find a cat or meet a hot vet

***

oh, i kinda of think i wanna make it last forever by doingthemost

[Stevie/Ruth, Teen, 2,206]

Ruth can scream. She can wail. She can effortlessly hit the kind of notes that Axl Rose has to warm up for, jumping from pitch to pitch with the kind of abandon that seems like precision. And she knows how to dial it back, following Patrick’s lead with an obvious ease that startles Stevie. When their voices meld together, Ruth matching him beat for beat, note by note, Stevie can’t help herself.

She catches Mutt’s eye, tilting her head towards the vocalists, and bites back a grin when the two of them join in.

And the funny thing is: this shouldn’t be so effortlessly easy. The four of them have never played together before.

Voting her into the band, though, is the easiest decision that Stevie’s ever made.

–

OR: Stevie hates when people tell her to smile. After Ruth joins her band, though, she can’t stop smiling.

***

[Fanart] There’s a Dead Guy in Room 4 by mallpretzles

[Stevie & Roland, General, 0]

The coroner said he’d be discreet with the body removal…so why did 6 people show up to assist? And, why were they all wearing hazmat suits?

***

Day 5

Taking Care of David by iola17

[Alexis & David, Teen, 5,590]

With Patrick out of town, the last thing David needs is to be stuck in bed with the flu. They’ve been planning Patrick’s attendance at the conference for months, there’s no question of him returning to help out. But as chance would have it, Alexis is in town for a couple of weeks and reluctantly, David agrees to let Patrick ask for her help. It isn’t like she’s going to say ‘yes’ anyway…

***

Marcy’s Girls by Turkey_Virgin

[Alexis, Marcy, & Stevie, Teen, 4,464]

Marcy is left alone with Alexis and Stevie after David has to pick Patrick up from a vendor run. Alexis and Stevie both turn to Marcy for relationship advice, and Marcy finds herself to be a substitute mother to the girls.

***

Want S’more by Amanita_Fierce

[Patrick/Jake/Mutt, Explicit, 3536]

Patrick goes camping and gets a crash course in survival woodworking.

***

your secret’s safe with me by stereopticons

[Ruth/Stevie, Mature, 3,125]

Stevie hates surprises. Truly, there’s nothing she hates more. They make her extremely uncomfortable, and always make her cry, whether or not they’re good surprises. She’s terrible at planning them, too. She’s never been particularly good at keeping secrets, which seems to shock most people.

But somehow, despite all of this, Stevie has ended up dating Ruth who not only likes surprises, but also just informed her that she booked a trip to visit Schitt’s Creek for her birthday. So now Stevie has to plan a surprise party for her sophisticated, big city girlfriend in a town that only has one restaurant.

Stevie enlists David’s help to plan a surprise party for Ruth. It goes about as well as one would expect.

***

Best Budds by mallpretzles

Stevie, G, 2,875]

A pre canon telling of Stevie’s relationship with the Motel over the passage of time and the lifelong effect it bestowed upon them.

***

You Miss 100% of the Tapes You Don’t Play by AuthorByNight

[Patrick & Stevie, Teen, 995]

Patrick and Stevie support one another’s endeavors on two separate occasions.

***

a reason to stay by doingthemost

[Alexis/Twyla, G, 606]

It isn’t like she’s never been used, like no one’s ever looked at her and seen someone they could discard. It isn’t like her family, their voices raised through the mansion as they all pack up their lives, cares about her.

She shoves things in suitcases. Stavros will get her out of this; Stavros will bring her home.

Still: when she finds David’s stuffie in her closet, she packs it, too.

–

Alexis has packed and unpacked her life countless times—but until Schitt’s Creek, she never found a place that made her want to stay. 

#sc fanfiction #sc fic rec #sc fanart #sc fanworks #rare fest #sc rarefest #sc rarefest 2023

[annesoftheisland]

Anne of the Island - Chapter XXIX

Diana's Wedding

"After all, the only real roses are the pink ones," said Anne, as she tied white ribbon around Diana's bouquet in the westwardlooking gable at Orchard Slope. "They are the flowers of love and faith."

Diana was standing nervously in the middle of the room, arrayed in her bridal white, her black curls frosted over with the film of her wedding veil. Anne had draped that veil, in accordance with the sentimental compact of years before.

"It's all pretty much as I used to imagine it long ago, when I wept over your inevitable marriage and our consequent parting," she laughed. "You are the bride of my dreams, Diana, with the `lovely misty veil'; and I am YOUR bridesmaid. But, alas! I haven't the puffed sleeves -- though these short lace ones are even prettier. Neither is my heart wholly breaking nor do I exactly hate Fred."

"We are not really parting, Anne," protested Diana. "I'm not going far away. We'll love each other just as much as ever. We've always kept that "oath" of friendship we swore long ago, haven't we?"

"Yes. We've kept it faithfully. We've had a beautiful friendship, Diana. We've never marred it by one quarrel or coolness or unkind word; and I hope it will always be so. But things can't be quite the same after this. You'll have other interests. I'll just be on the outside. But `such is life' as Mrs. Rachel says. Mrs. Rachel has given you one of her beloved knitted quilts of the `tobacco stripe' pattern, and she says when I am married she'll give me one, too."

"The mean thing about your getting married is that I won't be able to be your bridesmaid," lamented Diana.

"I'm to be Phil's bridesmaid next June, when she marries Mr. Blake, and then I must stop, for you know the proverb `three times a bridesmaid, never a bride,' " said Anne, peeping through the window over the pink and snow of the blossoming orchard beneath. "Here comes the minister, Diana."

"Oh, Anne," gasped Diana, suddenly turning very pale and beginning to tremble. "Oh, Anne -- I'm so nervous -- I can't go through with it -- Anne, I know I'm going to faint."

"If you do I'll drag you down to the rainwater hogshed and drop you in," said Anne unsympathetically. "Cheer up, dearest. Getting married can't be so very terrible when so many people survive the ceremony. See how cool and composed I am, and take courage."

"Wait till your turn comes, Miss Anne. Oh, Anne, I hear father coming upstairs. Give me my bouquet. Is my veil right? Am I very pale?"

"You look just lovely. Di, darling, kiss me good-bye for the last time. Diana Barry will never kiss me again."

"Diana Wright will, though. There, mother's calling. Come."

Following the simple, old-fashioned way in vogue then, Anne went down to the parlor on Gilbert's arm. They met at the top of the stairs for the first time since they had left Kingsport, for Gilbert had arrived only that day. Gilbert shook hands courteously. He was looking very well, though, as Anne instantly noted, rather thin. He was not pale; there was a flush on his cheek that had burned into it as Anne came along the hall towards him, in her soft, white dress with lilies-of-the-valley in the shining masses of her hair. As they entered the crowded parlor together a little murmur of admiration ran around the room. "What a fine-looking pair they are," whispered the impressible Mrs. Rachel to Marilla.

Fred ambled in alone, with a very red face, and then Diana swept in on her father's arm. She did not faint, and nothing untoward occurred to interrupt the ceremony. Feasting and merry-making followed; then, as the evening waned, Fred and Diana drove away through the moonlight to their new home, and Gilbert walked with Anne to Green Gables.

Something of their old comradeship had returned during the informal mirth of the evening. Oh, it was nice to be walking over that well-known road with Gilbert again!

The night was so very still that one should have been able to hear the whisper of roses in blossom -- the laughter of daisies -- the piping of grasses -- many sweet sounds, all tangled up together. The beauty of moonlight on familiar fields irradiated the world.

"Can't we take a ramble up Lovers' Lane before you go in?" asked Gilbert as they crossed the bridge over the Lake of Shining Waters, in which the moon lay like a great, drowned blossom of gold.

Anne assented readily. Lovers' Lane was a veritable path in a fairyland that night -- a shimmering, mysterious place, full of wizardry in the white-woven enchantment of moonlight. There had been a time when such a walk with Gilbert through Lovers' Lane would have been far too dangerous. But Roy and Christine had made it very safe now. Anne found herself thinking a good deal about Christine as she chatted lightly to Gilbert. She had met her several times before leaving Kingsport, and had been charmingly sweet to her. Christine had also been charmingly sweet. Indeed, they were a most cordial pair. But for all that, their acquaintance had not ripened into friendship. Evidently Christine was not a kindred spirit.

"Are you going to be in Avonlea all summer?" asked Gilbert.

"No. I'm going down east to Valley Road next week. Esther Haythorne wants me to teach for her through July and August. They have a summer term in that school, and Esther isn't feeling well. So I'm going to substitute for her. In one way I don't mind. Do you know, I'm beginning to feel a little bit like a stranger in Avonlea now? It makes me sorry -- but it's true. It's quite appalling to see the number of children who have shot up into big boys and girls -- really young men and women -- these past two years. Half of my pupils are grown up. It makes me feel awfully old to see them in the places you and I and our mates used to fill."

Anne laughed and sighed. She felt very old and mature and wise -- which showed how young she was. She told herself that she longed greatly to go back to those dear merry days when life was seen through a rosy mist of hope and illusion, and possessed an indefinable something that had passed away forever. Where was it now -- the glory and the dream?

"`So wags the world away,' " quoted Gilbert practically, and a trifle absently. Anne wondered if he were thinking of Christine. Oh, Avonlea was going to be so lonely now -- with Diana gone!

#anne of the island #anne of green gables #anne shrley #anne x gilbert #diana barrry

[desert-bluffs-and-me]

WTNV quick rundown - It Devours! - NV&Citizens facts

Click here for the plot points!

Click here for facts about Nilanjana!

Click here for facts about Darryl!

Click here for facts about the Joyous Congregation and it's members!

Click here for stuff about the other scientists!

Click here for misc interesting facts I found!

The structure of NV works like this - there is a ring of mountains around the desert with NV in the middle and (formerly DB) Red Mesa and Pine Cliffs elsewhere. Downtown NV is the towns center which contains city hall, the radio station, several hooded figures at all times, the library, a shimmering vortex blocked off by yellow police tape, dangerous stray dogs and propaganda loudspeakers on every corner.

Beyond downtown is Old Town NV, a residential and shopping district developed in the 1930's which fell into disrepair post-war but is seeing a regenesis of homeowners, shops, tall metal trees and predatory cats. Beyond OTNV are the sand wastes then the scrublands, then the used car lot, then Old Woman Josie's house and finally, Larry Leroy's house.

Larry is fairly old (though has become quicker with age) and has lived alone for as long as he can remember. He owns a phone (broken) and a wheeless car with an underground shed full of canned goods/bottled water and a years worth of preserved pork sausages hidden underneath. He got the car by trading his shotgun for it. Larry has never felt safe around guns after he got stung by a scorpion reaching for his dads hunting rifle on a father-son hunting trip. He is not scared of scorpions though and likes that they eat pests like squirrels.

Larry wants to be remembered not through the fleeting memories of offspring but the immortality he believes art brings. His fave thing to make is dioramas of historical events and famous scenes from books. All of these are ahistorical/alternate versions such as W.E.B. DuBois riding on the back of a five-headed dragon called Rachel McDaniels or Dorothy bombing Kansas from a war balloon. His parents used to tell him that history didn't exist because it wasn't happening any more. His heroes are; W.E.B. DuBois, Helen Keller, Redd Foxx, Luis Valdez and Toni Morrison. He also writes poetry and makes patchwork quilts.

Included in his will are letters and items to be distributed to Sarah Sultan (the dioramas), Leann Hart and Cecil (obituary he's written for himself) and Michelle Nyugen (polka music written and preformed by himself using a concertina and a microcassette recorder).

The vague yet menacing government agency creates and mails everyone an earthquake calender each month to tell them when the scheduled earthquakes are.

Carlos rarely invites people back into his private lab. He spends time in there doing science but also making construction paper collage love notes for Cecil and writing down his fave numbers.

Carlos takes days off work to be with Janice (as do Steve, Abby and Cecil) when Janice gets her frequent checkups on her eyes, kidneys and spine. When Cecil is in danger, Carlos goes into an unproductive worry stupor, pacing his office trying not to call into the station to ask if Cecil is okay. On date nights, Carlos puts gel in his hair and wears his most striking lab coat.

Carlos dislikes talking about his time in the DOW, despite which he's become obsessed with it. He eventually reveals that this is because he spent ten years there instead of the year he was gone in NV, not eating or drinking or really feeling like he was existing, just endlessly ringing the moutain unable to get anywhere and away from the people he loved.

Neat is one of Carlos' fave words. He doesn't get when a question is rhetorical, or a joke, and dislikes being touched including comforted physically. However, he does sometimes like it when Cecil strokes his ears but other times not. He has a hard time predicting his own responses to things and can't articulate his feelings via words or process them very well inside of himself. He also loses speech when overwhelmed.

Carlos says that the thing he found weirdest about NV was how nobody else thought it was weird, that Cecil helped him feel better and even fond of that aspect and that sometimes when Cecil wakes up he [Cecil] will mutter "how did I end up this lucky?"

Carlos likes mint ice cream. He's a heavy sleeper.

Most birds in NV are computers produced and owned by the government.

Helicopters in NV 'don't take fuel'.

Big Rico's real name is Richie Goldblum. His brother is the mailman, Arnie Goldblum (who is two years older). They had a hard time growing up Jewish in NV as it's 'not exactly brimming with Jews' and Arnie believes that his brother changed his name to better fit in and distance himself from his culture. They also used to tease him for being small despite not being small, so the 'big' part is a play on that. Big Rico also pretty much admits to murdering competitors and feeding them to the worms he keeps in his basement.

Basimah Bishara, scared of the sudden pits and weary of the dangers of NV, decides to go to college in California. Mab, the bus driver, was almost swallowed and witnessed the sinking of Big Rico's and the full light that came from it which stung her skin. Terry Williams, age 7, was traumitised by seeing Big Rico's sink but wouldn't feel any full effects until he moved out of NV and at age 33 had a break down in a restaurant parking lot.

Jackie Fierro has decided to skip to 25. She is dating Sheriff Sam.

The Tourniquet bartender, Arjun, has been given near infinite knowledge of the universe which is shattering his mind. He also spies for the city council. He wears 'cool vintage prohibition era clothes' aka a snuggie and a mesh trucker hat. He can carve ice with his teeth.

Sex in NV is highly regulated. You have to fill out forms in triplicate providing a medical history then enter your individual Sex PIN to verify identity and interest. Then the forms have to be notorised and various blood tests and results gotten before sex.

There is a 'reincarnation programme' at the NV zoo where they will teach an animal of your choice to act like you (for a huge fee). Results are middling but the richest of citizens often sign up.

Janice doesn't like science, she likes sports but Carlos assures her that sports are science.

Cecil and Carlos think that tarantulas are adorable.

Pamela drives a purple PT cruiser.

Cecil has at least some chest hair, which Carlos likes to bury his face in when he's upset.

Josh Crayton is dating a boy called Grant.

Hank, a sentient patch of haze, works at the Staples.

#wtnv #welcome to night vale #wtnv quick rundown #wtnv it devours! rundown

[the-90s-music-colosseum]

I'd like to add to the peggability debate the entirety of the song Acrylic Afternoons and what a simp Jarvis is:

I fell asleep on your sofa,

And had a dream about a small child,

In dungarees,

Who caught his hands in the doors of the Paris metro.

Then my face cracked open and you were there,

You were there dressed in green,

Saying something obscene.

But that's why I came here in the first place,

Oh well that and the tea.

Can I stay here,

Lying under the table together with you now?

Can I hold you?

Forever in acrylic afternoons

I want to hold you tight

Whilst children play outside

And wait for their mothers to finish with lovers

And call them inside for their tea.

Cushions and TV,

And the table set for tea.

One for you, one for me.

Come and lie down on the settee,

In that green jumper,

You can have anything you want.

And the clock is saying,

It's half past four but you know,

I want to stay a little more.

Can I stay here,

Lying under the table together with you now?

Can I hold you?

Forever in acrylic afternoons

I want to hold you tight

Whilst children play outside

And wait for their mothers to finish with lovers

And call them inside for their tea.

On a pink quilted eiderdown,

I want to pull your knickers down.

Net curtains blow slightly in the breeze.

Lemonade light filtering through the trees.

It's so soft and it's warm.

Just another cup of tea please (one lump yeah, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you)

Can I stay here,

Lying under the table together with you now?

Can I hold you?

Forever in acrylic afternoons

I want to hold you tight

Whilst children play outside

And wait for their mothers to finish with lovers

And call them inside for their tea.

Oh Kevin, Shane, Julie, Diane, Wayne, Frank,

Heather, Rachel, Chelsea, Leanne, come home.

It's time for your tea.

Don't forget about the squealing and moaning through the whole thing

silly little simp Jarvis

#most attractive 90s musician #asks #the peggability debate #jarvis cocker #pulp

[edupunkn00b]

Where the Air Is Sweet, Chapter 11

Photo by Rachel Martin on Unsplash

Prev - Ch. 11 - Next - Masterpost - [ AO3 ]

WC: 1010 - Rated: G - CW: fluff, mild fear of the dark

Even a blackout can feel safe when you have a friend nearby.

Washed and dried, the final dinner dish was back in its home on the shelf. Logan had just closed the cabinet when every light in the apartment went out.

“Lo?” Patton’s voice sounded far away in the darkness. “Did you turn out the lights?”

“No, of course not, Pat,” he murmured, feeling along the cabinet to be sure the other door was closed, too. “No, I believe we may have blown a fuse.”

Patton’s rubber-textured cozy socks slapped against the tile, followed by his worried little mumble, each sound growing fainter as he moved across the room. “It’s really, really dark,” he said. Hands tracing along the counter, Logan felt for the utility drawer to find a flashlight. Both of their phones were plugged in on their nightstands, put away for dinner, leaving them without the easy, ready light in their pockets.

“Pat? Did you move the flashlight?” he asked when his fingers failed to find the familiar nubby grip.

“Uh-oh." Logan's eyebrow quirked up at his tone. "Yeah, about that…” Patton murmured. “I lent it to Remus the other day. I said he could bring it back whenever he was done.”

Logan sighed, but nodded. “Very well. We’ll simply have to make our way to the bedroom for one of our phones so that we may see what we are doing at the fuse box.” 

Straining his eyes, he attempted to make use of the typical glow of the streetlights outside their windows to make out where Patton was standing. It was only then he realized—

“It looks like the whole block is out, Lo!”

The squeak of grommets told him Patton was at the window and Logan made his way over, slowing when he felt the bump of the area rug underfoot. Thick clouds had hung in the sky all day and it appeared they lingered now, blocking out any moon or starlight. Logan gasped when his fingers grazed the heavy wool curtains. “It’s completely dark outside!”

A faint rustle to his left was quickly followed by Patton’s warm hand closing around his. “So definitely not just a fuse, huh?”

“I believe so,” Logan mused, squeezing his hand before reaching with his other to slid the window shut. “We should close these to conserve heat. With the entire block out, it may be a while before power is restored.”

“Good thinking, sweet,” Patton murmured, Logan’s hand clutched close to his chest. His heart thudded rapidly against Logan’s fingers and he pulled him close once the window was closed. “Can we go together to the bedroom?”

Logan couldn’t see Patton’s face, but the tight curl of his fingers and the tiny quaver in his voice were brilliantly clear. Though his best friend's baby soft smile disguised a courageousness Logan only dreamed of possessing, and Patton had never completely lost his fear of the dark. “Of course, duckie,” he murmured, moving to his other side and hooking his arm around Patton’s waist. “We’ll soon have a little light from our phones to push away the shadows.”

Drawn so close that his curls brushed against Logan’s ear, Patton nodded. “That’s right,” he said, voice a little steadier. “Maybe… maybe tonight would be a good night to… well…” His typically unflappable confidence muted by his old fear. 

Pausing, Logan squeezed his hand again. “Were you thinking that perhaps might be a good night to sleep side by side?” Next to him, Patton’s shoulder dropped and he leaned a little closer to him. “In case it grows chilly in the night, of course?”

“Yeah,” he tugged Logan a little closer. “Yeah, to stay warm.”

With a little chuckle, Logan nodded in the dark. Together, they slowly made their way to the bedroom, shifting to single file as they passed through the doorway. Patton let out a little laugh when his shin bumped the quilt folded at the foot of his bed. They both patted along the soft comforter until they reached the nightstand between their beds and their hands closed on their phones.

Seated side by side on Patton’s bed, they each checked their battery life.

“Forty-two percent,” Patton said, thumbing through his notifications and replying to a message in the group chat he maintained with several of their neighbors.

“Seventy-nine percent.” Logan frowned at his phone, scrolling through the rapidly growing list of chat notifications. His frown only grew when he tapped on the app for their electric company and saw the large red swath of the reported outage. “With a problem this severe,” he murmured, holding the phone so Patton could see. “It is likely the power won’t be on by morning. I will power down to conserve my battery.”

“Good idea,” Patton nodded and sent one more message to the group. “It was already getting late… How do you feel about getting ready for bed now? Here”—he turned on his flashlight and set it light down on top of the lampshade—”so we’ll have a little light” The lamp glowed dimly, casting long shadows over the beds and stretching out to the corners of the room. Patton’s smile grew shaky as he looked around the room. It was a terribly small space for the two of them to dress in at the same time.

“No need to worry about privacy, Pat,” Logan murmured and gave his shoulder a little squeeze before turning to gather his pajamas. “I’ll change in the hall and—”

Patton gripped his sleeve.

“Pat?” Logan looked back, eyebrows raised high.

“You… you could change in here. Maybe?” He looked around again, eyes darting back from the front of the closet where the shadow from his quilt danced. “I could turn off the light if you’re feeling modest.” Patton’s hand slipped down, fingers laced with Logan’s.

“Would you truly prefer darkness over changing alone with—”

“Yes!” The desperate edge in his voice cut right through Logan’s heart.

He bowed his head and lifted Patton’s hand to his lips. “Of course, duckie,” he whispered before brushing a gentle kiss against his knuckles. "I won't go anywhere."

“Thanks, Lo.”

#Where the Air Is Sweet #ts logan #ts patton #logicality #Logan Sanders #Patton Hart #fluff #fluffy fluffy fluff #oh the fluff! #sanders sides #sanders sides fanfiction #sanders sides fanfic #human au #Patton Sanders #(for the character tag) #did I mention there's fluff?