#ANYWAYS that's like. the gist of the post lmao | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

grimsonandclover · 8 months ago

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hi j came across ur blogs and FINALLY. someone who doesn’t write about puppy art or stepcest. i tbh would read anhtbjng abt patrick but i love childhood best freind patrick fics or enemies to lovers fics the most!!

All I Want For Christmas

Childhood Bestfriend!Patrick Zweig x classical singer!reader

Song of the post 'WHAT'S IT TO HIM? - Quadeca'

The first part of this holds opinions I can't even fully stand by anymore thanks to challengers brainrot. i kinda like some of the puppy stuff ive seen. i still wont write stepcest. for this reason I've just deleted that part of my reply

Anyways, fuck, I love these two tropes so much, I could eat them for breakfast lunch and dinner and still have them as snacks and still never tire. but childhood friends to lovers >>> im such a softy for it. I wrote this the moment I saw your message, so it's semi-proofread, more so just me writing the little story I thought of as it came to me. if you want a smutty part two lmk and ill write it in a flash

I have no clue where the Christmas theme came from, it just kinda happened. I don't even celebrate Christmas lmao.

This was meant to be a blurb. Now it's a 5k word slow burn blurb. Hope you enjoy!

also the song linked has nothing to do w the story lmao, it's just what's playing. <3 quadeca

SFW

5.3k words

childhood bestfriend!Patrick Zweig, Never dates Tashi/Loses Art!AU, slow burn, timeskips, no content warnings

--(x)-- 1998 - 2006 --(x)--

You both grew up quite rich, you and Patrick Zweig. Going to the same charity events and galas and birthday dinners as kids because your parents would drag you both along to brag about your accomplishments. Patrick's parents would brag about how he's a tennis prodigy that's gonna go pro one day, have you seen him play? And your parents brag about your voice and your grades, how youre gonna get into any school you want (which you would be able to anyways since theyd just pay the school board). You've got the voice of an angel and since you were four they'd make you get up at parties and events and sing something by the piano. You were groomed to love the spotlight just like Patrick was groomed to love the rush of tennis.

Patrick loved hearing you sing. When you'd be ushered over to your spot by the piano player and ask the adults what they'd like to hear, Patrick would sit up from his slump at the dinner table or sofa, perking up like a dog being told its time for treats. He didn't really know anything about music, he just knew your voice did something in his chest.

You loved seeing him play. Your family had plenty of casual tennis players of its own, tennis being quite a popular sport amongst the wealthy. You understood the gist of it, but that wasn't why you asked your parents to go every time Patrick got to play. You wanted to go because it felt like the closest thing to seeing a shooting star up close. He was like a fireball on the court, even from a young age. His couches kept trying to train the unique serve out of him, you could see their cringing from the sidelines whenever he'd do it, but eventually they stopped when they realized how much he won with it. Because he did. A lot. It was mesmerizing to watch.

One Christmas the two of you finally properly spoke to eachother. You were both ten. Your parents had all gotten wine drunk in the other room, leaving the kids to try and get along in the Zweig's living room. The Christmas parties were always held at the Zweig house, it was the biggest. Didn't matter that they were Jewish. Never even crossed their mind, too big of an oppertunity to schmooze and secure business deals. Patrick never gave it a second thought, just happy he got gifts.

You two had just sat down by the fireplace as the other older kids convened on how to sneak some liquor without anyone noticing. You were too young to care about things like that, instead talking to eachother about school and your respective passions. It was the first proper conversation you'd had even though you had practically been in each other's lives since birth. Patrick liked hearing about the unserious gossip from your all-girls private school, how once again you were on the deans list and top of the class. He found it the funniest thing in the world when you confessed that you'd cheated on a math exam, your weakest subject. How you'd done that quite often actually. Patrick liked knowing you weren't as perfect as your parents boasted you to be, because that made you actually perfect in his eyes.

You liked hearing about the rowdy boys at his school and at tennis practice, and the stupid fights that would break out. Patrick would tell you about the famous tennis players his parents would get him to meet, some even practice with. How they'd comment on his serve, too, and when Patrick would imitate their voice and mannerisms, youd laugh till your stomach and cheeks hurt. Patrick decided then, at ten years old, to commit your laugh to memory. It was a sound as beautiful as your singing.

That became your routine at every dinner and every party your parents would take you to. You'd find solace and company with eachother, a rare, true friend in your world. You both never told your parents about the friendship because even then you knew they'd try and take advantage of it. Turn it into some political relationship, breed you two to marry or something for their benefits.

When Patrick's parents sent him off to the Mark Rebellato Tennis Academy when you were twelve, you cried into your pillow for hours. You'd promised to write eachother, but there's only so much writing a twelve year old can do before they get distracted. Your meetings went from twice a month to once a year. The Zweig family Christmas party.

Just like when you were ten, the two of you would meet up by the crackling fireplace and swap stories, updating each other on your lives. You performed with a real live orchestra last week a version of Silent Night and your mother cried from the crowd. Patrick was sorry he couldn't be there but you handed him a CD with a recording of the night, knowing he'd want to see it, and he said it was the best Christmas gift he'd ever gotten. He hadn't even watched it yet, but he knew. The tennis racket once owned by Bjorn Borg was a pretty great gift too, though (he'd keep it hung on his dorm wall for his entire time at the academy, then later in a case in the trunk of his car to keep it safe).

He had met a kid named Art at the academy, and he talked about how they became fast friends. Best friends. You didn't really have much time for friends, too busy with school and all the extracurriculars your parents had signed you up for since birth. It was kind of like that for Patrick before he left, and you were happy he got the chance to meet someone at the academy. Art sounded great, and you wished you could meet him.

The next year you did it again, but at 15 Patrick got pneumonia on Christmas eve and couldn't come. You sat by the fireplace alone, picking lint off your sweater. Not much had changed apart from his absence. The older kids, now nearing college, were still thinking of ways to get alcohol. Some messed around with eachother in the various rooms of the house while the parents were off doing whatever parents did, not having much else to do. You stayed by yourself, watching the fire and praying to God that Patrick would be okay.

The year after, Patrick was back. He was older now, and so were you, of course. You were both 16 now, puberty catching up with the both of you in the year you hadn't seen each other.

Patrick had started properly shaving now, and when you first laid eyes on him, waiting for you by the fireplace, the slight shadow of hair on his chin and jaw was the first thing you noticed. Your eyes trailed up the stubble to his cheeks, which had lost the baby fat and now made the apples of his cheeks much more visible, especially as he smiled up at you. He called your name excitedly, standing up to meet you in a hug. You had hugged before, but he never wore cologne before. He had clearly gone through a growth spurt, too, and easily could rest his chin on your head. When you pulled back from the hug, you grabbed his shoulders and held him at arms length, just looking at him. He did the same for you, taking in the slight increase of height yourself, the more mature glow in your skin, and, since he was still only a teenage boy and still Patrick Zweig, your new boobs. His eyebrows raised, a slow and impressed whistle blew from his lips as he gave you alook. "You've grow." He smiled, and you swatted his arms while you blushed. "Look who's talking." You said, poking his biceps. Tennis academy did him good.

You had never thought about it before, but that one year apart and your reunion woke something in you up. Patrick Zweig was hot. You didn't know, but that same part of his own brain ignited. The whole night you two still talked as normal, still giggled over stories and swapped gifts. He got you a necklace made from your favorite metal, a tiny but intricate tennis racket charm hanging on the bottom. It was simple, but it was so precious.

"So I can be with you more than once a year." He explained, and you couldn't help yourself when you pulled him into the biggest hug you could manage. It was the most heartwarming gift you had ever gotten. And it made you laugh too, especially when you reached over to give him his gift.

When he opened it, his eyes widened and laughed, picking up the simple silver chain bracelet with a tiny charm of your initial on it. You were a little nervous to give it to him, worried it seemed too couple-y of a gift instead of something you'd give a friend, but now that anxiety had gone. He put it on immediately, and you were so grateful that he didn't think it was too girly or soft for him to wear. Patrick Zweig could be crude and perverted (something you realized when he let slip the way he looked at some girls back at the academy), but he wasn't insecure. Not in that way, at least.

You sat a little closer together that year, knees brushing as you caught up. Art was still his best friend and you two made plans for how you could meet. You were still singing, the Christmas time performance of yours now a yearly tradition. He was still never able to come, but he promised one day he would. The other kids were now too old to come to his house, off at college dorm parties, some even old enough to be already married and having Christmas parties of their own. The living room was much more quiet for the two of you but it's not like you ever noticed them much before. The one true new addition was the cigarette that now dangled from his lips. You had initally scolded him for the new habit but it didn't take long for it to be passed between the two of you as you spoke. You did your best to not think about how it had touched his lips and then would touch yours.

When graduation came around and it was finally time to go off to college yourself, your heart sank a little. College meant you two would be too busy with your own lives to come back, and your parents already weren't too committed to dragging you along with them to their events anymore. When you sat by the fireplace for that final year, you found you had less to talk about. Life felt pretty slow for you, especially with your lack of real friends. It was the same deal every year. School, choir, then independent vocal lessons, then horseback riding, then the youth advisory board, then tutoring. Your days were all a countdown to Christmas, the one day of the year you weren't some busy prodigal daughter with too many responsibilities on your shoulders, but Patrick Zweig's best friend. That was the only thing expected of you.

Maybe not in the way Art Donaldson was, but you were his best friend. He was the love of your life, you were sure of it.

He asked about your plans for school, and you said you'd probably go to Julliard if you got accepted. You were being humble, of course. You got your acceptance letter months ago. Patrick, not knowing that, assured you that you would. "They'd be stupid to not let you in." He smiled, cigarette balancing between his teeth and his bottom lip. You nudged your shoulder against his, thanking him for the vote of confidence. When it was your turn to ask him, he shrugged.

"Ah, I dunno." He blew smoke from the corner of his mouth, away from you. Patrick sat, thinking to himself for a moment before turning to face you. "I've been thinking about it, and... I don't think I'm gonna go." He shrugged again, and your eyebrows pulled back in surprise. "Do your parents know that?" You asked, knowing they'd never allow him. The Zweigs loved boasting about how Patrick was going to continue the family name. Tennis might be his gift, but they expected him to finally grow up and be an adult, not a tennis player.

He shook his head, turning back to the fire crackling before you. "Fuck them," he whispered with a smirk. "I'm gonna go pro. Play at challengers and shit until I rank for the bigger stuff. Play at Wimbledon or the Olympics or something. Don't wanna risk an injury at some school before I can even do anything real, you know?"

You nod your head, understanding. It made sense for him, you just were worried about how his parents would react.

"Art's gonna go to Stanford." He said, lips a little downturned at the mention. "He wants a safety net, I guess. I don't really know." He blows another puff of smoke, handing the cigarette over to you. Then he turns to you again, chuckling a little humorlessly. "Gas is gonna be a bitch, going from California to New York."

"What do you mean?"

"Going back and forth to see you and Art." He said like it was the most obvious thing in the world, shocked you even asked. "Guess I could fly," Patrick thought to himself, thinking over the logistics of it, then seemingly deciding it would work. "Worth it."

Your chest constricted a little at the thought of him going through all of that just to see you. You insisted that he didn't have to, that you'd gladly fly over to see him instead of the other way around, but he persisted. "You'll have school and friends and shit. I'll have plenty of time to come over. Plus, you know, phones exist." He teased.

Patrick was right. They did, of course. For some reason, though, you two never called. Never even thought about it. It was a little nonsensical and you laughed, and he joined. You promised that you'd start calling him, and he promised you the same thing.

When you hugged him before you had to leave, you pressed a kiss to his cheek.

"Merry Christmas, Patrick."

He grinned, cheeks warming and turning pink. "I'm Jewish." He laughed, giving you a final hug. "Merry Christmas."

--(x)-- 2010 --(x)--

Graduation night at Alice Tully Hall was intense.

Four years had gone by in a flash and it was already the last week of May-- actually, it was already the end of graduation itself. Your cap was on your head and diploma in hand, the other one busy shaking the hands of the few late family and family friends that had come over to congratulate you. You were exhausted, both from the four years and from the night. All you wanted was to go to your apartment, flop onto your bed face first, and sleep the night away.

You had spent almost the entire celebration biting your nails and scanning the hall for the two pairs of eyes and smiles you wanted to see the most. When your name got called and you walked up on the stage, and your mother cried in the crowd like the night of your first concert, and your father gave you the same, unattached nod that was the closest he could get to saying he was proud of you. Patrick had told you he was gonna be late, just having finished a challenger in Philidelphia the same day. You just didn't think late meant missing the ceramony entirely.

Patrick was sitting in thick New York City traffic, banging his fist on his steering wheel, yelling at the car next to him. Art was in the passenger's seat, sighing and pinching the bridge of his nose.

"You fucking moron! Dumb fucking cunt! You know how much this is gonna cost!?" Patrick yelled, pointing to the driver's door that now had a dent in it. The traffic was so heavy he couldn't move, and he didn't want to get out in case it budged. He knew he was late, and now some guy in a truck, in a fucking truck in New York City, had just bumped into the side of Patrick's car. The dent wasn't anything that would permanently damage the car, but it was pretty nasty. "Who taught your to drive?" He yelled, almost leaning fully out of the window now. Art reached over to pull at the back of his shirt, trying to get him back in. "Are you blind!? We're in the middle of traffic and you still managed to hit me?"

"Christ, Patrick, get back in the fucking car!"

Patrick swatted his hand away. "My best friend is graduating and now I gotta pick her up with this shit on my car. What's your insurance!? I'm gonna sue the shit out of you!"

Cars started beeping at him and the driver in the truck was yelling back just as colorfully. "That piece of dog shit almost looks better with it! You should be fucking thanking me, asshole. Maybe your insurance will give you a better car!"

"A better car!?" Patrick was red in the face. "Why don't you let me return the favor then!"

"Oh, shit." Art was scrambling over the center console to really pull him back, knowing it was seconds away from getting violent.

--(x)--

You were leaning against the front doors playing with the tennis racket necklace you had never taken off when you got a call from Art. You had gotten it from him the first time you met him freshman year, it being the one connection you had to each other for the whole school year. He had become a really close friend of yours, even through he grainy speakers of your phone. You picked it up eagerly, the first thing you could hear being angry beeping in the background and a voice that sounded like Patrick yelling.

"Art? Where are you guys? What's going on?"

"Oh my god," Art said your name, a little frantic. "Okay, so, uh, we're running late, I know-" there's some shuffling you can hear, and you cut in. "The ceremony is already over." You tell them, a little disappointed. Art frowns but his attention is pulled back to the situation at hand.

"Congrats on graduating! Um, anyways, I called cause Patrick's kinda losing his shit right now. Some guy hit his car--"

"Oh my god! Are you guys alright?"

"Yeah, yeah, we're fine. It's just a dent. But now the two are in the middle of the street and Patrick's getting his ass kicked." He sounds nervous, because of course he is. His best friend is catching fists to the face. "I tried to help..." Art continues, and his hand goes back up to touch the future black eye he's now sporting. "But, um, I just wanted to let you know that I don't think we'll make it over-"

In the background, Patrick interrupts, managing to gather the strength to push the giant man from on top of him. "Oh, we're making it!" He yells out loud enough that you can just hear it over the speaker, then throws another punch at the guy's jaw. Patrick's nose was bleeding and his eyebrow was cut, and the other guy wasn't looking all that great either. He spat at the guy, adding "You made me miss her graduation." with another punch.

The cars around them suddenly started move, and the two friends froze. Traffic was moving again. The guy got another good punch onto Patrick before he was able to scramble up and run back to his car, yelling at Art to start driving before the guy caught up.

They finally got to Lincoln Center looking like a pair of hot messes and you spent the weekend in your apartment with them sleeping over, caring for their cuts and bruises and catching up, smoking out your apartment window. It was the best weekend you'd had in years.

--(x)-- 2019 --(x)--

The crowd cheering was deafening, and the spotlight was blinding. Nonetheless, you took a bow, thanking the audience for the night. Your hand reached out to the orchestra and another round of applause boomed. Nobody could smile bigger than your were. No one could beat the butterflies in your stomach.

It was the week before Christmas, and just like you had since you were 12, you were performing a concert. This time however it wasn't on a small stage at a theater in your hometown, but at Alice Tully Hall in New York City, the same hall you had graduated in nine years ago.

The lights dimmed and that was your cue to leave, first excitingly hugging the musicians who played so beautifully that night. You thanked them all, wished them a happy holiday, and walked off stage. Waiting for you, as always, stood Patrick Zweig.

The years had done him well. Tennis kept him built like a marble statue, age refined his features, and his own laziness left the slightly auburn stubble on his cheeks to grow out. He was wearing the one tux he still owned, slightly tight around the arms and legs as he outgrew it.

Patrick had long cut contact with his parents, becoming financially independent (much to the dismay of his bank account), and no longer had to deal with the constant phone calls about how he was letting down the Zweig name with his tennis career. The days of them bragging about his talent were long gone, it was meant to be a hobby, not a career. Who was going to take over the Zweig family business now? He couldn't give less of a fuck. His designer wardrobe slowly sold off to pay for all the gas he consumed driving from matches to his best friends throughout the years, shedding his past with every article of clothing.

Patrick made sure to never repeat the same mistake as your graduation. At every event, he was there. Early, if possible. Never joining tournaments or challengers held on the same day as important events like tonight, not that there really were any on Christmas Eve. He made sure to make up for all the time you weren't together growing up.

Patrick held a bunch of roses in his hands for you as you approached, enveloping him in a hug. "Flowers are from the three of us." He spoke into your hair, referring to him, Art, and Art's wife Tashi. Free hand wrapping around your shoulder to squeeze you back with equal amounts of love. "Lily even made you a card. You were incredible, like always. Incredible."

You smiled up at him, kissing his cheek before hugging again. When you pull back, you look around him for the aforementioned Donaldsons. "They're waiting for Art to finish pissing. Whole night he kept complaining, drank too much water on the ride here but idiot didn't want to get up in the middle of your show and go." He chuckled, handing you the bouquet. You loop your arm into his, the feeling of him grounding you after the intense rush of adrenaline and emotions that came with performing to such a large audience or such a special night. Walking out into the main hall together, a couple people greet and shake your hand, some asking for pictures. A person even recognized Patrick, which was quite uncommon with his career now dwindling down an unfortunate and unsuccessful path (You were sure any day now he was gonna pick back up and climb the ranking again. You made sure to tell him after every match).

The two of you leaned against a wall as the attention died down and people began going home. In your heels, you were tall enough to rest your head comfortable on Patrick's shoulder. He smiled at the gesture, leaning his head on yours. Closing your eyes, you took in the whole night. The fading adrenaline, the sweat that gathered on your forehead drying, the sound of the crowd getting quieter by the second. The material of Patrick's tux on your cheek and ear, his steady and relaxed breathing, the warmth of his embrace, the musky cologne he had been using since he was a teenager.

Patrick enjoyed the moments alone he had with you. He wasn't Patrick Zweig the failed heir to the Zweig throne just like how he was a failed tennis player. He was Patrick Zweig, your best friend. That was the only thing expected of him.

Longer than Art Donaldson ever was. You were the love of his life, he was sure of it.

He inhaled the scent of your hair and your perfume, arm wrapped around your shoulder as his thumb rubbed comforting circles on it. When he closed his eyes, he replayed how you looked on the stage while you sang. You were as beautiful as your voice. Always had been, always will be. Every performance of yours took him back to when things were much simpler, when he'd watch you by their otherwise untouched piano at formal dinners and you'd sing a Sinatra song for the parents. He could almost taste the roasted chicken, almost feel the silverware in his hands.

Your hand reached up to your chest and your fingers played with the little tennis racket charm, a habit you'd had for years. Patrick loved knowing you kept the necklace on after all this time, even on nights like this where you could've replaced it with something much more grand and expensive.

He had never taken his bracelet off. Even in the brief relationships or hookups he'd have and partners would question what the initial stood for. He'd never answer, just tell them it was important to him.

You opened your eyes again when the sound of little feet in little shoes click-clacked on the tile floor towards you, your name exclaimed from eager lips. Lily bounded up to you, her honerary aunt, and wrapped her arms around your waist. Art and Tashi followed behind her.

Lily pulled back from the hug, looking up at you. "You were like a superstar!" She beamed, one of her front teeth missing. You hug Art and Tashi who compliment your dress and your performance before leaving with them to the dinner reservation you all had, Patrick's arm still around your shoulder as you walked.

At dinner, through mouthfulls of spaghetti, Lily asked you constant questions about what it's like to sing and be on stage. You answered every single one, and at the end of her little interview she made an announcement. "When I grow up I wanna be a tennis player like mommy and daddy," she started, Tashi scolding her to stop talking while she's eating as she wiped with a napkin at the corners of her daughter's mouth. Art's bottom lip jutted out in a little pout, melting in the hands of his daughter. "But, I wanna be a singer-tennis player. So I can wear pretty dresses like you."

You laugh, coming to Tashi's defense. "Your mom wears gorgeous dresses, Lily."

"Yeah, but she doesn't wear them on a stage. I wanna do that."

Point proved, you shrug. Patrick turns to look at you as he's sitting directly beside you. He doesn't say anything, just admires you under the dim and moody lighting of the resteraunt as you talk with Lily, resting his chin in his hand and smiling into his palm. Art and Tashi share a knowing look.

The night decidingly comes to an end when the couple announces they need to put Lily to bed.

"I'm not twenty anymore," Tashi says, handing the bill to the waiting server. "I knock out at ten P.M."

Patrick drove you home like you agreed, and it was assumed he'd stay the night like he often did on your couch. As you changed into more comfortable clothes in your room, he grabbed his own clothes from the trunk of his car and changed in your bathroom. Afterward, he silently observed as you washed off your makeup and took down your hair from its simple updo. It felt domestic. It felt like something a boyfriend does with his girlfriend after a long day. Patrick let himself pretend for a moment that that's exactly what was happening.

When you were done the two of you sat on the couch and cuddled, debating on what movie to wind down to as you settled into his arms as he laid his head against the arm rest.

"Home Alone?" You ask, grabbing the remote and flicking through the options. He shook his head.

"Watched that with Art and Lily just last week. What about Elf?"

You agree, and the movie begins to play. The volume's low and you spend more time talking to each other than actually watching, one of your hands on the arm wrapped around your chest scratching up and down and the other resting on your stomach. Patrick's hand on your chest toyed with your necklace while the other arm rested on your head, lazily scratching as you watched and talked. Neither of you realized when you both fell asleep there.

The sun rising through your window wakes you up, the light bright against your eyelids. You shifted a little, lifting your head but keeping your eyes closed. The first thing your senses picked up on was the warm body of Patrick underneath you, steady rising and falling breaths and the lignering scent of the cologne he applied yesterday still faintly on his skin. His hands were still on your chest and head when you woke up, sliding off when you moved to look at him.

The stresses of adulthood were almost undetectable on his face. Patrick had the same freckles littering his skin that he had as a kid, and you used to tell him that in a crowd of identical people you'd be able to pick him out just by the freckles on his waterline. Did that make sense? Probably not, but it did when you were fourteen. You didn't really care, to be honest, just wanting him to open his eyes so you could see the freckles there again.

As if he could hear your thoughts, his eyelashed fluttered before opening. The first thing he saw was you.

Like an angel. His tired brain though for a moment he died and went to heaven.

"Goodmorning." He rasped, morning voice deep and scratchy. You smiled, looking out the window at the falling snow. "Merry Christmas." You say instead. "I'm Jewish," He chuckled, a hand raising to brush a strand of hair from your face before whispering "Merry Christmas" back. He said the same thing every year.

You stayed silent like that, laying on his chest and just staring at him as he played with your hair. There was some sort of unsaid agreement between the two of you, something your souls communicated with each other without your knowlage as you slept. Patrick felt like his heart could stop at any moment with how etheral you felt.

"What do you want for Christmas?" He asked, breaking the quiet in the room and whispering it like a secret.

Your eyes moved from his to his lips, and at the action his tongue darted out to lick them. It felt like the 21 years you had been best friends slipped away from your fingers and had gone. Time was gone. Reason was gone. The only thing left in the entire world was you, him, and the couch. You knew what you wanted. You had wanted it since you were sixteen. He's sure he's wanted it since the creation of his soul.

His hand moved from your hair to your jaw, both of you slightly breathless, eyes on the other's lips. His calloused hands told you, you weren't dreaming despire how hazy reality felt. His breath on your lips told you, you were still alive despite how heaven-like reality felt.

Patrick leaned in, his nose rubbing on yours and your foreheads touching, lips mere centimeters apart, eyes barely open. His best friend. His soulmate. He was never whole when he wasn't around you.

He kissed you on Christmas morning, the charm of your inital on his bracelet tickling your shoulder, the tennis racket on your necklace resting on his chest.

#↳ my writing #↳ anons #challengers #patrick zweig #tashi duncan #art donaldson #challengers 2024 #patrick zweig x reader #patrick zweig fic #challengers fic #childhood bestfriend!Patrick zweig #josh o'connor #patrick zweig fluff #i cant believe i finished this in a day #i cant believe this is THIS long #i was thinking i was gonna write like 1.5k TOPS #your welcome anon #hope you like a slow burn

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starberry-cupcake · 5 months ago

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SHORT STORY + BONUSES (read it like when gollum says bagginses) INTERMISSION!!! Today we'll take some time to dive into the Harrow bonuses and a couple of short stories, one of which I should have read before, but such is life.

previously, in the tlt universe:

I finished harrowcita del 9

Bonus 1: BoE google doc for the soldiers

differently from the other recaps, I did these while I was reading them, not when I finished reading a whole chapter/story

so maybe the thoughts are more rambly than usual

sorry about that

ANYWAY I have to give it to the BoE folks, they've got a lot to deal with over here

they're like the audience, coming into this blind

and have to try to understand how necromancers operate on the fly

'bullet to the head but don't be too confident on that' seems to be the most useful tidbit

it's like a resident evil gameplay

BoE is in resident evil, gideon is in survivor and harrow is in a gothic pulp novel

the advice for engaging lyctors is "avoid them at all costs"

I keep spelling it BoA instead of BoE because of her

blood of adam? blood of awake me up when september ends? idk

Pronounciation guide (aka I do what I want, but apparently pronounce nonagesimus like the author)

dr reverend emperor john chose the name gaius for himself, it wasn't his real name

gaius sounds like gallo, the spanish name for gallus gallus domesticus, which in english would translate to cock and alludes to the fact that he is a dick

agustine is pronounced like in english and not like in spanish (agustín), I have been pronouncing that one right but I could have called him agustín all this time

cassiopeia was a queen but we already knew that

sixth house, ceramics, cooking, checks every one of my boxes

"CRIS-ta-bell. Rather than “crees”."

what is the difference oh my god is there a difference there

pyrrah is achilles's drag name, which is cool

valancy and cyrus were like this

I'm still gonna call the mithraeum mithrandir whatnot the emperor's bolthole, it's in the sacred text

the nonniad is in dactylic enneameter, which is a ninth version of greek epics (which are hexameters) and it's making me send my ancient greek professor from uni good vibes wherever he is

Glossary

we know more about the beasts now, or have more ordered info, the gist of it is this

so the RBs are only the nine OGs from the nine planets of dominicus that the emperor fucked up

those are the ones that can go from the river to the physical world and viceversa

the other minor beasts can only exist in the river

I still think this is all the emperor's and the lyctors's fault for starting this nonsense and killing planets for power and whatnot

so yeah, Consequences of your Actions, johnny boy

the heralds, as we had established, are kind of like borg, responding to the RBs

necromancers kinda go mad at all this as if they were looking at cthulhu

I wanted to google what the two first verses of wake's name were but the first results that pop up are tlt sources and I'm not looking into that, in case of spoilers

I've already come this far without massive spoilers, I'm not gonna risk that now

what quotes would you like to have as a name if you were one of these folks?

If I could choose three, I'd probably pick: Yo tengo el corazón como la espuma / das Leben Sie nicht vergessen hat, daß es Sie in der Hand hält / Quieto en la tierra y sentir que mis pies tienen raíz

probably un monceau d’idées et un monceau de douleurs would be another contender considered

idk how that'd be shortened though, maybe espie because espuma

house quiz was book 1, boe name assignment is book 2

The Mysterious Study of Doctor [tumblr keeps blocking my post and I'm gonna try to avoid this word to see if this is it]

ANYWAY, SIXTH HOUSE TIME

from the blurb I can tell that:

1) all this time I thought Dr S was like a funny nickname someone had given palmolive for being correspondence-horny lmao

2) is this the magnus institute???

3) "Enter Palamedes Sextus and Camilla Hect, age thirteen" we're gonna look at some baby picturessss

"Every thirteen-year-old necromancer in the Sixth House is gifted."

"I was born with four kids in my generation eligible to produce children with me. Palamedes had two"

maybe that's why he went for a correspondence gf

camilla describing that's she's the best and me just going

this thing of 'being attractive' as a category would get me demoted at the sixth, though

but working in data, I can do that

I am really liking archivist zeta

there's something that was sealed for a lot of years and now is unsealed and that's very exciting!!!!

lost media!!!!

so many stairs would be a problem for me, but there's lost media at the end of the tunnel

archivist zeta: don't touch anything

palmolive: including the bone hands?

archivist zeta: the what now

apparently the hands are younger than the time the room has been sealed

with the forms being color-coded, I'm starting to think this is less magnus institute and more office of incident assessment and response

them making references to other houses remind me that other houses socialized, seeing everything from the ninth made me feel like everyone was isolated all the time lol

add to my list of sixth house love the fact that we have murder mysteries now too

gotta love the sixth house

kinda ominous the hand bones now that we know what we know, of camilla carrying palmolive as a tamagotchi in a bone hand after harrow changed the skull

palmolive and camilla age 13 are a whole other book I would have devoured at age 13 myself btw

giving me his dark materials vibes

there was a skeleton in the air vents above the hands

camilla says she's gonna start taking measuring tape with her alongside everything else and I also can relate to going places with 25 million things, just in case

palmolive steals pens, apparently

I've used this meme for palmolive before but it still fits

the skeleton was possessed by the dr himself, he got kinda stuck on his way there after the fifth person tried to call him and got his hands into his study through skeleton shenaningans

palmolive needs to touch something in order to prove the "why" and everyone votes in favor, because he's on a roll

the cool wooden orb that was in the desk was a cool wooden puzzle, like the Karakuri Creation Group ones

man, I love those

the dr solving a puzzle after his death and coming back to prove it is me with some niche puzzles I used to have a sideblog for

don't ask me

there was paper inside and everyone got outside super fast and started congratulating each other (hello????? you did nothing????) and shaking camilla's and palmolive's hands

they don't wanna give palmolive multiple points for solving a several hundread years old mystery, which isn't fair tbh

"Don’t expire in a fit of hubris." oofffffffff

the paper had letters, which palmolive thinks are love letters

with his years of experience on pining letters

the one at the ends says "Tomorrow you will become a Lyctor and finally go where I can’t follow"

is this about cassie??? aka cassiopeia????

loved the camilla and palmolive murder mystery dinner

As Yet Unsent

this is judith's diary and this is how I imagine she looked while writing it and judging people

judith assisted the BoE with her own healing but it's kinda tough when you're also handcuffed and with your eyes covered and whatnot

judith is still in the emperor's side

I don't blame her, she hasn't met the man

yandere twin has met him and still saved him so, I can't judge judith too much

there's a corpse that isn't rotting

promising stuff

there's a commander called We Suffer

they're wearing masks and camilla is being "converted" to their cause

and she didn't even meet the man, but apparently BoE had contact with the sixth house at some point in the past

cassie?????? is this you??????? who knows

sixth house though, earning more points

also, camilla says that palmolive would want to find out what they know and, you know what, fair

I would too

camilla is also good at chess, because she's good at everything

they're playing ceiling chess like in queen's gambit

judith thinks about martita, who will soon do some awesome things next to mati nonnius

judith is also marinating the fact that everyone was fooled by the twinsies and the fact that regina george twin has no necromancy

she also complains about her being too emotional and prone to trust people

every point regina george twin makes about BoE sounds pretty solid to me tbh

the more I see, the more I think the emperor is a dick, like his name implies

judith argues with regina george twin a lot but also notices that her ears go pink when she's impassioned so...why are you noticing that judith????

how did you notice that???? *smirks knowingly*

judith has to deal with the limitations of medical care when you don't have a bunch of people who do body magic stuff

so she's dealing with recovery in a slow way and with machines plugged to her

it's hard for her because she was from the house where necros are also very able to do physical stuff

camilla is giving her strongly worded positive reinforcement

regina george twin and judith have a lot of moments that go from flirty to fighting

I can't keep using smirk reactions images so (¬‿¬)

regina george twin is also being trained to be rambo barbie and I think that suits her

"In a different time I would have found ways to apologise to Palamedes Sextus, whom I at the very least critically misjudged"

palmolive always getting the indirect compliments my goodness

he's so popular

"The princess has by turns tried to charm Camilla, play with Camilla, flirt with Camilla, and cajole Camilla. Camilla is currently unmoved"

nobody's good enough for her, regina george twin, move along

regina george twin is also being kinda aphobic towards judith's response on her being uninterested to romance camilla

I don't think judith is aro at all but that doesn't mean we have to be assholes about it, regina george twin, thank you

judith and regina george twin think BoE is wrong about necros having orgies and I'm here like

so, apparently, judith propositioned martita because she was pretty much obsessed with her

and martita said no

and she thinks camilla is holding onto tamgagotchi palmolive out of some sense of not wanting to let go of him

unaware of the fact that he's in his river loft waiting for his bones to be womanhandled by harrowcita

also, the BoE has an old ship that judith wasn't helpful with, so they don't really have much patience with her

regina george twin and judith keep flirting in that intense tlt way

I'm starting to think regina george twin has a big crush on judith and I'm here for the dynamics of that

"It said, Ugh! Then it said, Eugh!" is this mercygirl??? it sounds like mercygirl to me

and fixing someone's insides as if they were cleaning a sewing machine also sounds very mercygirl

mercygirl is also curious about this body that doesn't rot and I wanna know what it is because I want so bad for it to be gideon-related but I can't let myself hope

also, she gave them the coordinates to find harrow in the cool planet

"And Camilla said, The Warden and I know they can die like anyone else" 👀

"The corpse of the Ninth House cavalier is as pristine as when Camilla Hect convinced them to take it on board"

YESSSSSSS

YEEEEEEESSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS

MY HOPES WEREN'T UNWARRANTED

LET'S GOOOOOOOOO

GIDEON ARMS INTACT BABYYYYYYYY

regina george twin proposes necro-cav marriage to judith and judith says no because no relationship here can be straightforward

"Why would I ever knowingly take Coronabeth Tridentarius’s, having desired her already for twelve long, stupid, fruitless years?!"

DRAMAAAAA

AND THAT'S IT!!!! FINALLY!!! This took me a lot longer than I wanted it too but I enjoyed the stories ♥ See you in the next one!!

#luly reacts to tlt #harrow the ninth spoilers #tlt spoilers #long post #harrow the ninth

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mystiffox · 3 months ago

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— badsansuary: days 22 - 24

yeah, let me be fashionably late for this. these prompts were made by @owl-bones !! i'll take any reason to show my selfship with night🙏 you understand. yes, every prompt i draw will be a diff au each time. yes, i have enough aus for this (with varying degrees of lore)

said au notes (+ last year's badsansuary art!) are under the cut:

Day 22: Paint -> Creative Arts AU

i have a couple of modern aus which are more or less all slice of life aus, and this one's just the trope of artist/artist so i don't need to explain much. main difference beyond that is that night is just not goopy LMFAO

i do wanna add that dream is also featured here because. its coldsunset poly (im dating both of em) for all the aus, its just a highlight on me and night bc of the prompt theme (note: my interpretation of dream is she's transfem and uses any pronouns fyi)

Day 23: Foolish -> Swapped!Medieval AU

now the medieval smoothie au has Much More Lore this time, especially since we've revamped it recently. it's gotten to the point of au-ception. because we're insane. in fact, this isn't the only swap au we have (i coined it as the Scales Swapped Timeline) and i might even draw the other swap (Royal Swap TL) if the opportunity arrives :]

the gist of this is that night swaps with dream! me and gillan (the fairy in the art) still work in dream's kingdom, its just that there's an excess of positivity instead of negativity. this leaves her kingdom oversaturated in positivity that they can't even process loss or any sort of negative emotions- and night can't be close to her because he starts to physically hurt (possibly even start dying) from the positivity, which forces him out the kingdom.

his crown is one of the few things he has that came from what is now dream's own kingdom (it doesn't fit him well, but he can't bare parting with it). i'm the one of the first to seek him out to try and improve kingdom relations in hopes of recovering the balance.

there's a lot to unpack there.

Day 24: Royalty -> Original Medieval AU

WE ARE SO BACK and i am enjoying this revamp to the fullest rn !!! we r embracing this fully by attempting to ocify the extended smoothie poly by humanizing designs and adding a bit more fantasy elements into the world. that's why most of these have human and skeleton variants btw (this will be a theme in my art)

the apple twins? dragon hybrids now. me and gillan? shapeshifter and fairy respectively. oh, and the lil' tiefling kid that present time night was reminded of when seeing his past self? that's the adopted kid in the new lore post-truce hehe. i didn't write it properly but "the person" that young passive says is meant to be "the person we love"

i would like to blame gillan for pushing the thought of a child into the au i am now very much attached to the child (their name won't be revealed yet tho). they're a young knight in training that just stuck to me and never left and now they got a whole ass family. w development

it's never not interesting to explore night's character with the au, i just love the dynamic we have despite the complicated history.

will i elaborate on this? that's a very good question. maybe ask me and i'll provide crumbs anyway! here's last year's stuff

i had the same goal of doing some prompts from night's days + the last free days, but they were gonna connect to each like this- but as you can tell, i didn't get far LMAO. at least i've done better this year tho

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marsoid · 2 years ago

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@wip i have a tumblr feature suggestion!!

Right now, Twitter (or whatever it’s called now) is the only social app that allows PRIVATE ACCOUNTS (instagram doesn’t count because you can’t have text posts. You expect me to post an image every time I want to vent? Facebook also doesn’t count because I hate it.)

I know we have the ability currently to make our side blogs private, but here’s the issue with that for me:

1. They can’t be FOLLOWED, you can apparently only add “members” to the blog.

2. I thought I had more points but really it keeps coming back to the fact that they can’t be followed. I don’t want to put in a password every time I want to check in on a friend. The convenience of making your own private blog and following your friends’ private blogs cannot be overstated. It’s the ONE THING that’s keeping me attached to twitter.

What’s so great about having a private blog?

Safety. Toggle your blog to “Private” in Visibility settings if you need a breather from outside attention. Only your followers will be able to see any new posts you make. Old posts will still be visible outside your blog however, similar to when a blog is deactivated I assume.

Friends-only space. Sharing thoughts and art with only a few close friends is more comfortable for a lot of people.

Actual privacy. Even if you have 0 followers, even if you don’t use tags, the tumblr search will still pull up any word used in the post itself, meaning if someone searches the right thing, your posts could still show up to anyone. Setting your blog to private would remove this concern.

Journaling. Private twitters are nice, but a private tumblr? Getting to write out a BIG LENGTHY RANT for only close friends? Hell yea

Keep explicit content away from those who don’t want to see it. Setting a blog to private is a great way to keep certain art and writings out of easily reachable spaces.

Another bridged gap between twitter and tumblr. Ok listen. I’m not necessarily advocating for every twitter user to join tumblr. But I know that’s something the tumblr staff is interested in, so I’m adding it here for that reason. I for one would ditch twitter in a heartbeat if I could have a private blog, and would probably have an easier time convincing some straggling friends to join for a feature like this. Just sayin

I also made some quick and sloppy mockups

Anyway i guess that’s the gist of it

If anyone has anything to add pls feel free. I really want a private blog LMAO

#tumblr suggestions #tumblr #private blogs

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ranfordgallus · 7 months ago

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16+ RANT

(sexual stuff you get the gist)

(im not gonna put the wild kratts tag on this obviously because...wild kratts is still a kids show at the end of the day and if i put in the tag there probably gonna be kids reading this and wonder what the fuck am i talking abt, though i do...post sensual or mature stuff with the wk tag on it rarely, its not like...softcore porn basically yk, like not talking abt porn or...sex obv)

Anyway, to the topic..

Y'all...or atleast some of you guys know that i ship...martin x donita right, and...FUCK dude its honestly so funny because i still view them as like hero and villain, they still fight because- well, donita is and still is a villain and martin is...lets just say not supportive of her turning-animals-into-fashion typa stuff, so they still fight..

Now.... The reason i find this funny because, imagine, donita and martin is dating and they get freaky, they get freaky deaky in bed, and after they finish they say some lovey dovey stuff like "i love you" or whatever...and then the next day they pretend like nothing happened

The OTHER reason why its funny to me, is because...imagine fighting a person you had sex with and imagine martins mind coming up with the time he had sex with donita every time they fought, like thats just fucking crazy its so ...idk how to explain it

But yeah thats all i could say LMAO, just a lil rant of mine

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wlwanakin · 1 month ago

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all your fics sound so fun!! but i am going with obi-wan microaggressions or, if that's already taken, no, sferatu

@cheesenames

for the wip ask game i posted at the beginning of the month lmaoooo. i’ve been swamped with work and planning my upcoming vacation and you asked about the two that i have written the least of!! like genuinely these files are so empty and illegible and i was planning on carving out a day to work on them and then answer my asks with what i added but i have had ZERO time and therefore a) wrote a lot less than i would’ve liked and b) am only answering right now instead of three weeks ago

i feel like i’ll disappoint not having huge chunks to share like with the other au lmao but they’re both fun so i will share anyway (and i’m still breaking the rules bc these are not a sentence they are Paragraphs). also anakin is a trans woman in both of them #predictable and it’s an essential aspect of the microaggressions one and completely trivial and serves only to alienate my audience in the nosferatu one. anyway here’s the rundown for both:

obi-wan microaggressions is a fic entirely inspired by twitter convos i had with @lesbiananidalas about how obi-wan would respond sooo badly to anakin coming out as trans not out of bigotry or malice but because he is chronically incapable of understanding anakin or challenging his own perception of things. so the basic premise is that it’s a post-rots happy au where anakin leaves the order to fuck off to naboo with padmé and the twins and blah blah and this leads to a falling out with obi-wan and then they don’t talk for a few years. and then by circumstances i haven’t decided yet he re-enters anakin’s life only to be completely blindsided by anakin having transitioned in the years they were not speaking (so blindsided that he straight up doesn’t notice until a few days later and just assumes anakin is like, unusually well-rested and haircut averse and that is why she looks so radiant and womanly these days). and he puts his foot in his mouth about that repeatedly, naturally. but it’s a lot less about gender and a lot more about growing apart from someone you thought you knew and realizing that you did not know them all that well. here is a kinda whatever paragraph:

She hasn’t changed all that dramatically, in many ways not at all. She smiles more, and wider, and she seems taller even though Padmé says she’s shrunk half an inch. The bags under her eyes are the lightest they’ve been since she was a child. She’s the exact opposite of what Obi-Wan imagined an Anakin outside the order to be; he’s still waiting for the cracks to show through.

no, sferatu is literally just my nosferatu au that i have discussed on here exclusively through tags. calling it a nosferatu au isn’t entirely accurate bc it’s also inspired by dracula (the novel) and i’m not sticking to either version of the story strictly at all but it is an idea sparked mostly by 2024 nosferatu because of ellen’s connection to the supernatural and all the grooming-esque stuff going on and blah blah you get the gist. i just wanted to do a very classical vampire thing with gothic heroine anakin and her and padmé having an idyllic little (boston) marriage that’s threatened by this looming monstrous figure cuz that’s just revenge of the sith.

this one is very much in the “jotting stuff down non-chronologically to remind myself i had the idea and edit it later” stage and not really in the style i want the final product to be in at all. there’s no real context for this, i just had a visual of anakin and padmé lying in bed together in what i imagine is the beginning of the third act?:

She sleeps with her hand on Padmé’s chest, palm pressed flat so she can feel her heartbeat. She needs the assurance that it’s still there, that it hasn’t been stolen away in the dead of night. Her mind wanders back to the depths of the black sea it always returns to, back to Sidious, to his gnarled, lifeless hand on her shoulder and time-worn voice scraping her ears. She wonders if his pulse can be felt under his cold, waxen skin; she doubts he has one at all.

idk this would be after padmé returns from her jonathan harker/thomas hutter esque business trip (that i have yet to decide the circumstances of) half-dead and in my mind there’s also like an equivalent to that scene in the herzog movie where dracula visits lucy one night that happens between anakin and sidious except it’s more manipulative so it’s more like the eggers scene between ellen and orlok? but i’m not doing the three nights thing and it’s not as sensual as the eggers scene. i don’t know. i haven’t even decided what decade this is set in much less the plot structure. dracula!

#this is all bad. i hate all of it. i haven’t written anything good in years #star wars #ficposting #ask game #asks

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agonydefying · 1 month ago

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Black Rock Shooter RP blog

hi uuuuuhhh it's kris back with another fucking 2am impulse blog

this one's for my girl black rock shooter... from black rock shooter. specifically the 2012 anime verse, about 13-15 years after canon.

sideblog to @djsangos so i'll follow back from there

same rules as all my other blogs apply, 18+ only, no personals, you get the gist

i get fucking lazier and lazier with every pinned post but can you blame me? i do this shit too fucking often lmao

ooc/rules carrd

stats below cut:

did a toon me picrew of my own interpretation of her design until i feel like actualy drawing one, whenever that is, so here's this for now:

it's fucking impossible to get her asymmetrical twintails with any fucking picrew man i'm doing my best

This blog takes place about 13-15 years after the ending of the 2012 anime. Run as if BRS is the one running the blog, all posts should be assumed to be in-character unless preceded with “//”, tagged “#ooc”, or otherwise stated.

Name: Black★Rock Shooter

Nickname/s: BRS, or, alternatively, “Rock.”

Age: about 27-ish

Pronouns: she/her

RELATIONSHIPS

Mato Kuroi: Human counterpart

Dead Master (Yomi Takanashi’s other self): they have a… situationship?

The other… other selves: Acquaintances, adversaries, friends. All those words mean the same thing in the Hollow World.

LAST SEEN ON B★RS..

(Note: some of this is canon, some is headcanon extrapolated from canon, and some is just straight headcanon)

True to her promise, BRS continues to bear Mato’s pain and fight for her sake in the Hollow World, though their situation isn’t as dire as it once was. In her adolescence, Mato’s continued repression and ignorance of her pain and grief meant that it was all pushed onto BRS to bear, causing her to become progressively more powerful and ruthless, indiscriminately slaughtering other selves, freeing them and their human counterparts from the pain they bore… and the memories of said pain. This all reached a head when Mato, determined to save Yomi from her own pain, fused with BRS in the Hollow World to stop her from killing Dead Master… but she was too late. Seeing Dead Master as Yomi, impaled on BRS’s blade, Mato couldn’t take that pain, and the trauma it caused pushed BRS over the edge, driving her insane and transforming her into something overpowered and nigh-invincible. At Mato’s declaration that she wanted to feel pain, she promised she’d show her just that, beating her counterpart to a pulp until Mato, realizing that she really couldn’t make it through life without hurting anyone herself, finally fought back, snapping BRS out of her frenzy. With Mato’s friends’ other selves having been revived, restoring their memories, the two part ways, with BRS telling Mato that she fights for her because she loves her.

Now, in adulthood, Mato does her best not to run from her pain, to let herself feel it and deal with it. This doesn’t leave BRS out of a job, however, and she dutifully fights for Mato’s sake as she always has, in the endless battlefield of the Hollow World. But it’s safe to say that both of them are at least a bit healthier due to Mato’s efforts.

Mato herself is now a professional basketball player, turning what was once her hobby into a career. She still remains close with her friends, and is dating Yomi, though her travels for games mean she’s not always able to spend as much time with everyone as she’d like.

Though the majority of BRS’s interactions with her fellow other selves involve violence, there isn’t necessarily any hatred in their battles. They’re generally able to have civil conversations whenever they’re not trying to rip each other’s heads off. They’re friends. Probably.

BRS sees glimpses of Mato’s life in her dreams, just as Mato sees BRS in hers. A literal world apart, they don’t see much of each other otherwise, but that doesn’t mean either of their love for their counterpart has waned.

anyway that’s where i’m calling this it’s 2am bye

#ooc #pinned #black rock shooter rp #brs rp #is there even a brs rpc... lmaooo

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puckpocketed · 7 months ago

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weird/bad interactions always remind me about the good things. feeling very sentimental under the cut <3

housekeeping

The gist of this is that I'm very grateful every day my first encounters with hockey on here were primarily with kraken lb and sharks lb. You can stop here if you aren't in the mood for an essay LOL

I'm thankful in general for everyone who has ever welcomed me into their hockey spaces for giving me role models to emulate. I feel especially thankful after such a strange, off-putting experience in a new tag just now.

On the off-chance you're the person who took a screenshot of my post to tell me to leave your space and you're reading this: thanks for the chat, no hard feelings and no grudges held. If you're one of the people who uncritically reblogged that post... I can't tell you what to do with your blog but dog piling is a pretty good way to bully people and drive new fans, artists and gifmakers away from your community.

I'm not here to guilt people into being friends with me. and honestly, I don't want friends who would do that. I sincerely hope you grow and the next new fan you encounter gets a warmer welcome than I did. I know most people in the tag aren't like that, but I think I'll shelf that team for now. (my quest to fall in love with 32 teams carries on!)

Anyway, I get pretty mushy about my friends and communities semi-regularly on here so it’s not anything people haven’t heard before, but it’s MY blog and I get to write love letters to my teams and their communities if i want!!!!!

kraken

I take my cues from the way people in this tag treated me. The warm welcome is something I'll always think about, no matter how my relationship to the team and the community at large evolves over time. Sparking my interest in writing again, making new friends, and learning about The Beautiful Game was such a highlight during my summer last year. I am very very tender about this team and community. It’s hard to talk about them sometimes because it’s like… my feelings are so big <3 they are eating me like a soup dumpling. my head is being ripped off and my soupy insides are being sipped <- don’t know where i’m going with that....!

I confess I often feel overwhelmed and lost in the hockey tumblr space as someone who doesn’t participate in shipping/rpf and isn’t attracted to men, but I’ve never felt like people wanted me out because of it. Thank you for accepting me, and accepting the way I love this team and sport.

sharks

Tiny but mighty!! the kraken crossover likely contributed a lot to this, but I've met such amazing people in this tag. We may have different/conflicting opinions about non-sharks teams but we are united in our love for this flop train and my life is enriched by it. Would not commit to a months long research project with any other people ! Mwah <3

There's a whole iceberg's worth of things to say here. I'm trying to keep it short otherwise it would be like.... a whole post of its own LMAO.... i should definitely write a puck-mortem on the primer work one day.

But to give anyone reading this an example: I still think about a sharks writing prompt challenge where the organiser went out of the way to include non-shipping/nonfiction works in their list of acceptable submissions. I won't name or @ anyone in this because that's sooo embarrassing aslkjasdkljdjkl but. we exchanged a few messages about it, and learning that they did that specifically to make sure people like me were included genuinely made me tear up.

I love u sharkudablr <33

kings

Somehow even smaller. Many of us don't have LAK as our primaries, and honestly why would we? The community tinyyy... and only recently we're coming back to life it seems. I really can count on two hands every active kings blog I've met and interacted with. But I value every 6 note post so much <3 also we may be very funny for real actually. incredible memes and collective sense of humour. The memes and gifs and photo edits + reposts are so important to me .

I love our kings, our little family, our little liveblog tag. The way I follow LA is unlike how I follow any other team. they really are my eldest daughter, in that I am holding them to SUCH high standards. Perhaps because out of all my teams their fate seems the most uncertain? Are we on the verge of collapse ? are we cup contenders? are we ever gonna escape the round 1 time loop? <3

I hope one day we're as big and warm as my other beloved team tags. I think we're on our way :)

golden knights

another small but close community. I'm so grateful I saw Adin Hill go ultra instinct and got interested in this team <3 aside from saving me a bit of heartbreak during the trade deadline, I've met amazing new people.

Also, loving this team makes for a great litmus test + rent lowering shots. To be loud about enjoying this team is to filter unserious people out of my tumblr experience <3 Those who were wishing injury on m.stone in particular and those who were uncritically repeating conspiracy theories, thanks for exposing yourself during playoffs. Those who are in the tags of my vgk gifs saying how much you hate this team, thanks for exposing yourselves. I do not go out of my way to be spiteful on here, I think it really does no good. but I fear I don't want to sit with you at lunch if you are doin all that!!

what's really special to me is how our community is small and safe. it is the safest I've felt in a hockey community. I am so happy our discord is place I can go to without fear of seeing one of my other teams/players randomly smeared, I love that it was started with the express intention to avoid simply repeating the unfiltered hatred we experience in other spaces. building with purpose, choosing to be kind... i think that's also something I want to take and run with in my own community building efforts. thanks for being bold enough to be different <3

caps

Quickly rising up from babygirl-in-laws (hi Lucky!!) to BELOVEDS. I think the Dubois trade might be one of those inflection points they talk about in sci-fi movies where they gotta time travel and change the future :) I was already sort of eyeing this team and had a few friends/mutuals who followed them, but the incredible caps fans who have reached out to me to share their love of their team really sold me.

I love talking hockey with everyone I've met. I love the goofy vibes. i love the essays in my inbox. I love that people read the essays i write back. <3 When a link to a video didn't work for me (required a log in) a caps fan simply screen recorded it and posted it. When I asked about the power play I got completely serious hockeypilled answers <3

There is something to love about every team, but I'm finding a huge part of loving them, at least for me, is the people you love them with.

everyone else

If i haven't mentioned a team I like or people I've interacted with it's because there are too many to recall in one go and this post has gotten a lot longer than I originally intended <3 trust that I think of you warmly and often. every person who has ever sent me an encouraging word, discoursed with me about the game and the narratives, and every note on my silly gifs and art - appreciate you more than I can express. you all make being on here such a cool experience.

I hope i love hockey for a long time and keep meeting new people <3

#waugh.............. feeling warm in this chilis tonite.....#puckposting #puckdiaries

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