#MAKE ME PROUD. / esther.
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HANDMAIDS ALWAYS WALK IN TWOS, REMEMBER? / june + janine.
I THINK IN THIS PLACE, YOU GRAB LOVE WHEREVER YOU CAN FIND IT. / june + nick.
WELL,I LIKE IT. I LIKE HIS GARBAGE. / june + luke.
IN ANOTHER LIFE,MAYBE WE COULD'VE BEEN COLLEAGUES. IN THIS ONE,WE'RE HERETICS. / june + serena.
YOU DON’T KNOW WHAT YOU’RE CAPABLE OF UNTIL YOU HAVE TO DO IT. / self
I SHOULD’VE LET YOU BURN WHEN I HAD THE CHANCE. / serena.
I WENT BACK TO NICK. TIME AFTER TIME, ON MY OWN. / nick.
NIGHT BY NIGHT HE RECEDES,I BECOME MORE FAITHLESS. / luke.
SHE COMES SO CLEARLY TO ME IN THE BATH. / hannah.
I WILL NOT LET YOU GROW UP IN THIS PLACE. / holly.
KEEP YOUR FUCKING SHIT TOGETHER. / moira.
RED LEADER STANDING BY! / janine.
YOU FAILED THEM. YOU FAILED YOUR PRECIOUS GIRLS! / lydia.
YOU HELPED CREATE THIS WORLD,HOW LONG DID YOU THINK BEFORE IT CAME FOR YOU? / joseph.
YOU HAVE NO IDEA WHAT IT IS TO HAVE A CHILD OF YOUR OWN FLESH & BLOOD & YOU NEVER WILL. / fred.
MAYBE THIS IS AS FREE AS WE'RE GONNA GET. / alma.
PIOUS LITTLE SHIT. / emily.
I WANT MY BABY TO KNOW KINDNESS. / rita.
MAKE ME PROUD. / esther.
I'M SORRY I WAS SUCH A SHIT TO YOU. I GOT LOST, I THINK. / natalie.
WEAR THE DRESS,PULL THE STRINGS. / musings.
A RAT IN A MAZE IS FREE TO GO ANYWHERE,LONG AS IT STAYS INSIDE THE MAZE. / about.
THEY SHOULD HAVE NEVER GIVEN US UNIFORMS IF THEY DIDN’T WANT US TO BE AN ARMY. / gilead.
THE WHITE TUNNELS OF CLOTH THAT ENCLOSE US. / wardrobe.
SEASON ONE. / v1.
SEASON TWO. / v2.
SEASON THREE. /v3.
WE THOUGHT WE HAD SUCH PROBLEMS. HOW WERE WE TO KNOW WE WERE HAPPY? / pre gilead.
#HANDMAIDS ALWAYS WALK IN TWOS, REMEMBER? / june + janine.#I THINK IN THIS PLACE, YOU GRAB LOVE WHEREVER YOU CAN FIND IT. / june + nick.#WELL,I LIKE IT. I LIKE HIS GARBAGE. / june + luke.#IN ANOTHER LIFE,MAYBE WE COULD'VE BEEN COLLEAGUES. IN THIS ONE,WE'RE HERETICS. / june + serena.#YOU DON’T KNOW WHAT YOU’RE CAPABLE OF UNTIL YOU HAVE TO DO IT. / self#I SHOULD’VE LET YOU BURN WHEN I HAD THE CHANCE. / serena.#I WENT BACK TO NICK. TIME AFTER TIME, ON MY OWN. / nick.#NIGHT BY NIGHT HE RECEDES,I BECOME MORE FAITHLESS. / luke.#SHE COMES SO CLEARLY TO ME IN THE BATH. / hannah.#I WILL NOT LET YOU GROW UP IN THIS PLACE. / holly.#KEEP YOUR FUCKING SHIT TOGETHER. / moira.#RED LEADER STANDING BY! / janine.#YOU FAILED THEM. YOU FAILED YOUR PRECIOUS GIRLS! / lydia.#YOU HELPED CREATE THIS WORLD,HOW LONG DID YOU THINK BEFORE IT CAME FOR YOU? / joseph.#YOU HAVE NO IDEA WHAT IT IS TO HAVE A CHILD OF YOUR OWN FLESH & BLOOD & YOU NEVER WILL. / fred.#MAYBE THIS IS AS FREE AS WE'RE GONNA GET. / alma.#PIOUS LITTLE SHIT. / emily.#I WANT MY BABY TO KNOW KINDNESS. / rita.#MAKE ME PROUD. / esther.#I'M SORRY I WAS SUCH A SHIT TO YOU. I GOT LOST, I THINK. / natalie.#WEAR THE DRESS,PULL THE STRINGS. / musings.#A RAT IN A MAZE IS FREE TO GO ANYWHERE,LONG AS IT STAYS INSIDE THE MAZE. / about.#THEY SHOULD HAVE NEVER GIVEN US UNIFORMS IF THEY DIDN’T WANT US TO BE AN ARMY. / gilead.#THE WHITE TUNNELS OF CLOTH THAT ENCLOSE US. / wardrobe.#SEASON ONE. / v1.#SEASON TWO. / v2.#SEASON THREE. /v3.#WE THOUGHT WE HAD SUCH PROBLEMS. HOW WERE WE TO KNOW WE WERE HAPPY? / pre gilead.
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anonymous said: a link to a tweet that said something like ‘stop giving older will a moustache. it is mischaracterising him because he’s not overly-masculine.’ (i’m posting it like this to not mention the username of the original tweeter)
here’s all the times i’ve mischaracterised will byers <3
in all seriousness, i’m sorry but it’s presumptuous to think that your headcanon is the only one that’s right.
yes, headcanon. because we haven’t seen 30 y/o will. we haven’t seen him out and proud. we don’t know how hopper and mr.clarke (both who have mustaches) being the two most influential adult men in his growing years could change the way he presents himself. it literally cannot be mischaracterising when the oldest version of will we know is 16.
it’s okay to have a different opinion. if you think will is going to be clean shaven for the rest of his life, that’s your take. i personally don’t think will is immune to making era and age appropriate fashion choices 🤷🏾 i also thought mustaches were awful when i was 16. i’ve since grown up and can appreciate a good stache.
and lastly, calling mustaches/facial & body hair overly-masculine is just… wrong. case in point:
freddie mercury, alok v menon, and esther calixte-bea
again, i paraphrased and posted this without the username because i don’t want anyone to go and pick an argument with op if you find the tweet. i just think that the byler fandom has always had the knack for getting offended by harmless headcanons like this and you guys need to chill.
you can say “i dislike mustaches. it’s just not for me.” without saying “you’re mischaracterising this fictional character by giving an older version of him a mustache”. something doesn’t have to be wrong for you to not like it.
Anyhow, here’s my headcanon of how hopper would react when he sees will with a mustache for the first time. I also headcanon that will starts greying very early because of all the trauma and stress he experienced as a kid.
#also you know what. please don’t repost my art on twt. the suggested tweet under this was a repost of my art with no credits#the one where mike is holding a ‘vecnad will’ screaming NOOOO#stranger things#anonymous#will byers#sometimes i wish i was a steddie shipper instead because i’ve seen the most lovely interpretations of older steddie#with scars and hair and body fat. you know things that normally come with age.#older byler
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[“It was only after I came out as a dyke that, for the first time in my life, I felt ready to celebrate being a girl, and I did. Actually, I overdid. Armed with Esther Newton’s Mother Camp, Judith Butler’s Gender Trouble, and Joan Nestle’s A Restricted Country, I embraced femme. I dressed up in short flowery dresses, pushup bras, satin panties, and lacy stockings. I paid great attention to my long, curly, perfectly-coiffed hair, my glamorous makeup, and especially my pouty lips. I spritzed Lola’s smell on my skin—Estee Lauder’s Private Collection—and painted my nails. I wore all of it with black combat boots and a brilliant sense of irony. I reveled in my girliness, went over the top, learned how to tweeze my eyebrows and line my lips with a lip pencil.
My gender presentation was unmistakable: blatant female sexuality. I was a proud, in-your-face, take-no-prisoners, uppity, don’t-assume-I’m-straight-because-I-wear-lipstick-and-dresses femme dyke. Because femmes are always assumed to be straight or sleeping with men, and I do sleep with men, I made sure to always have a butch on my arm so I’d be read as femme. Even though I was sure I’d be mistaken for straight, the boys took one look at me and steered clear. It was as if I was too much of a woman for them to handle, like I was a handful, and I was. But butch girls love a handful—a handful of tits, a handful of ass, a girl who needs to be handled, a girl who can handle herself.
How I figured out I was a femme had a lot to do with the women I was attracted to and the dynamic between us. When I was in junior high, I used to mess around with a friend of mine named Angela. Angela was one of those girls who developed early; I remember she had big breasts in like sixth grade. We mostly kissed and touched over clothes, and we played out various boy-girl scenarios. I was always the girl—my early femme roots. My favorite of all our little scenes was the one where she was my male boss and I was the secretary. The boss made me have sex with him and told me if I didn’t I would get fired. Now this was all before Clarence Thomas, Anita Hill and the media awareness/obsession with sexual harassment. I remember she’d tell me to suck her dick and push my face unmercifully into her crotch, which smelled amazing,. The drama of it all—the force, the degradation, the power games—really got me off. After that, there was no going back to simplicity. I was hooked on the power.
Jen really epitomized all the girls I was attracted to then and still am. Being with a butch girl, I was valued for my combination of strength and vulnerability, for dressing up, for wanting an arm to hold onto, hips to wrap my legs around, being able to give my body over to her and say, I trust you, I’m yours. My butch loved me in low-cut dresses, appreciated my sexual voraciousness, worshipped my inner slut. I reveled in the fact that I could be strong and submissive all at once. Surrender and still be a feminist. Being a dyke is not just about who I fuck and love, it’s about being a girl who doesn’t play by the rules.
Butch girls don’t play by the rules either, and I love butch girls. Girls with hair so short you can barely slide it between two fingers to hold on. Girls with slick, shiny, barbershop haircuts and shirts that button the other way. Girls that swagger. Girls who have dicks made of flesh and silicone and latex and magic. Girls who get stared at in the ladies room, girls who shop in the boy’s department, girls who live every moment looking like they weren’t supposed to. Girls with hands that touch me like they have been touching my body their entire lives. Girls who have big cocks, love blow-jobs, and like to fuck girls hard. Every day, it is the girls that get called Sir that make me catch my breath, the girls with strong jaws that buckle my knees, the girls who are a different gender that make me want to lie down for them.
Someone else said it about me recently and it’s right on target: “She gets off on all different sorts of people sexually, but she falls for butches.” Like the poet who bought her first strap-on with me and then wanted to sleep with it on. The shrink-in-training who got harassed every time she drove down South. She did look so much like a fifteen-year-old boy: blue button-down shirts, neatly-combed blond hair. The ad exec who had names for her dildos and used to love for me to spit-shine her wingtips. The photographer whose face was so mannish she could pass almost anywhere. The writer who wanted a body like Loren Cameron’s. The telephone repairwoman who drove a truck. The cook who had a boy’s name. The academic who got cruised by gay men on Castro Street. The cornfed farmboy from the Heartland with arms so hard and strong you swear they’ve been working the land, not the iron at the gym.
And there’s the one who’s got the James Dean stare down, and dresses like a clean-cut fag, and looks at me like she could look at me forever and never blink or grow tired or move from the spot she’s in. She’s a girl who loves girls like me—girls in velvet bras, girls who want to surrender to her mouth. She’s a girl who isn’t afraid to throw a femme down on the bed and fuck her. Possess her. My kind of girl. This girl is different.”]
tristan taormino, from this girl is different, from a woman like that: lesbian and bisexual writers tell their coming out stories, 2000
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monty and esther’s relationship is sooo interesting to me even if it doesn’t have lots of time to be explored. a kind of mother-son dynamic
like monty’s been esther’s crow for some time before we meet them only as her familiar but for a less than a week he’s human teen. he still works as her little helper but now there’s a boy in her house that she got at least a few clothes for from somewhere somehow. she doesn’t expect this to last long. he sleeps in his own room now and has a library card and talks back when she talks to him and has a genuine love for astrology. he still perches on chairs instead of sitting in them when he’s in the house and has black hair.
esther brought him into a human body and he blames her for all these human emotions he has to deal with. she takes him out of the world she gave him and it’s back to being a crow in a cage. he wants to be in love with edwin and for edwin to be in love with him back and he doesn’t want to follow esther’s plan to really kill him. he also has no one else to look up to, to follow, to learn from. he doesn’t want to make her mad because he knows the exact extent of what she can do to him and what she will do to him. he wants to make her proud, that he can capture edwin and charles.
esther wastes no time turning him back onto a crow if he fails her. she still has him come back home. he always does.
#dead boy detectives#esther finch#monty the crow#monty dbd#hello. can anyone hear me#does anyone care#is this anything even#scheduling for this to post when im asleep because#i am always so nervous making posts about interests i haven’t really talked abt here before#this is kinda a big old brain dump and no refinement but i just need to get this out there#also i am very nervous about posting any kind of analysis on anything ever
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₊˚✧ A KISS SAYS MORE THAN A THOUSAND WORDS.
ft. alhaitham, kaveh, tighnari, cyno
cw. fluff 'n smooches, smidge of angst if you squint for tighnari, cyno's is a lil bit short, intentional lowercase
a/n. esther in her sumeru era (real); first time writing for kaveh n tighnari
ⵌ ALHAITHAM — kissing the worries away
you can find alhaitham with a frown more often than not. it always brings a smile to your face when you see him deep in thought, whether it be due to his research or another book he’s reading. in your eyes, it was kind of adorable. if you were to say it out loud though, he’d just scoff at you, “stop being ridiculous.”
but you don’t deter and instead lean in to plant a kiss on his forehead, the creases on it seemingly melting away. “you’ll get wrinkles if you keep frowning like that all the time”, you giggled.
you never knew that this little action would leave an impact on your lover, but alas — he was full of surprises.
“oh, don’t give me that look.”
“how could i not?” your eyebrows furrowed even tighter at alhaitham’s plea. “this is madness. i don’t want you to get hurt!”
your lover’s gaze softened as he cradled your face with his hands. “you trust me, right?”
“of course i do!”, you replied in earnest without missing a beat.
alhaitham’s lips curled into a smile at your eager confession. he leaned forward to lay his lips on your forehead, the action so full of tender care and love. a simple and yet intimate gesture, with a promise buried within it — that he will come home to you, no matter what.
“then i don’t want to see any wrinkles on your beautiful face when i come home.”
ⵌ KAVEH — kissing in public without any shame, not afraid to show off his love for you
kaveh wears his heart on his sleeve, for better or for worse. while some certain people think of it as one of his greatest weaknesses, to you it’s the thing you love the most.
once you got the news of your job application being accepted, your first thought was to seek out your boyfriend and tell him the amazing news.
kaveh was caught off guard when you ran towards him at full speed, barely being able to catch you as you leapt into his arms. he didn’t have the time to scold you and tell you to be more careful, not when you radiated such vibrant energy and met him with a huge grin on your face. kaveh simply couldn’t do anything but return with a gleeful smile of his own.
“i got the job!”, you exclaimed a little too loud, as the passersby gave you weird looks. but neither of you cared.
“of course you did!” kaveh matched your enthusiasm — he didn’t doubt for a single second that you wouldn’t get it.
he also did not hesitate for the slightest bit as he pressed his lips onto yours. kaveh had no shame, his kisses were always full of vim and vigour. it didn’t matter if you stood in the centre of sumeru’s market amidst a bunch of people — he’d never hold back when it came to his love for you.
“i’m proud of you.”
ⵌ TIGHNARI — kissing you to comfort
forehead kisses were tighnari’s favourite form of showing his love to you. it’s such a simple gesture, yet feels incredibly intimate. he always makes sure to face you when giving them, so even if it’s just a quick peck, it still feels like he’s taking a second to give you his full attention.
when you feel sick or unwell, his entire love, affection and care for you seep through his actions. “stay put”, tighnari orders you in a stern voice. however, his actions are tender and soft as his lips linger for just a second longer on your forehead. “don’t make me come back because collei tells me you’re out and about.”
tighnari’s kisses bring comfort not only to you but to himself as well. you make him feel safe and he wants you to feel the same with him. and how could you not? especially when he holds you in his firm embrace — first planting a kiss on the top of your head and then on your temple, whispering against it in a hushed voice, telling you everything is going to be alright.
ⵌ CYNO — kisses that say ‘i love you’
cyno is a man of few words. it’s not that he doesn’t know what to say, but rather that he prefers to show than tell. the same goes for your love life — you could count on one hand how many times you’ve heard him say ‘i love you’ out loud, but you didn’t mind.
because the way he kisses you tells you enough. cyno kisses you with tender care, yet fiery passion. it’s as if he was drinking out of a glass that’s will break if he got too greedy, dancing the fine line and testing the limits of how far he could go.
he never leaves the house without kissing you goodbye. “i’ll be back by dawn”, sealed by locking his lips with your own — i love you.
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#genshin impact x reader#alhaitham x reader#kaveh x reader#tighnari x reader#cyno x reader#genshin x reader#alhaitham headcanons#kaveh headcanons#tighnari headcanons#cyno headcanons#alhaitham fluff#kaveh fluff#tighnari fluff#cyno fluff#✰ — esther's works
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Esther Hair
This is a hair that I made after the Erin Hair, which is supposed to be a relaxed, messy style, but this one with a pretty updo. I'll probably make some more hairs with this mesh part, since I'm really proud of it ;)
it comes in the 24 ea swatches
base game compatible
Hat Chops
disallowed for random
TOU:
Please do NOT claim as yours.
Do NOT put behind paywalls.
Do NOT reupload.
DO recolor (without the mesh please!)
DO use for mesh edits
PLEASE give proper credit
HAVE a good time
DOWNLOAD ON PATREON (FOR FREE, NO EARLY ACCESS!)
DOWNLOAD ON CURSEFORGE
IF YOU’D LIKE TO SUPPORT ME, YOU CAN BECOME A PATRON, OR BUY ME A KO-FI. THANKS ♥
cc: @maxismatchccworld @mmfinds @mmoutfitters @public-ccfinds ♥
#cc#simstomaggie cc#the sims 4#the sims 4 cas#ts4#s4#ts4cc#s4cc#ts4cc maxismatch#ts4cc mm#sims 4 mm#sims 4 hair#maxismatch#maxismatchccworld#mmfinds#mmoutfitters#publicccfinds#historical sims#sims#sims 4 updo#sims 4 cas#sims 4 hair cc#sims 4 hairstyle#sims 4 wedding#simstomaggie#sims 4 cc long hair#sims 4 cc updo hair
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the self-destructive habits of a hopeless romantic ~ j. hughes
synopsis: monetizing one's self-sabotaging habits, surprisingly, has its downfalls. one of them being leaving that one attractive hockey player that is an absolute gentleman who loves you with his whole entire heart.
warnings: self-sabotage, self-deprecation, angsty (but with happy ending)
word count: 3425 words
note: once again unedited but i wanted to get this one out there
???'s pov
time and time again, the world has seen the self destructive habits of humans. well, that makes it seem serious. the world has seen the countless missed opportunities due to a fear of another's reaction. the world has seen the blunders due to saving face. the world has seen the heartbreaks due to miscommunication. time and time again, the world has seen how people sabotage their own lives for the dumbest reasons.
esther graham was no different.
in fact, she capitalized on her ability to put herself into the worst emotional distress possible. every heartbreak produced a great work of literature that would nearly sell out in bookstores all over the northeast. she wasn't a new york times best seller by any means, but she was a small town writer from mont vernon, new hampshire. she made a name for herself during her time at hamilton college in their creative writing program. in her junior year of college, she published her first book, woes of a teenage failure, a novel following what could have been for a young college drop out named sophia. the book was a hit amongst her peers and professors, and by word of mouth, ended up selling 200 copies. the book, as ms. graham remarked, was her own "what-if" story, as she almost dropped out of college the beginning of her sophomore year.
and how do i know so much about ms. graham?
well, because i am ms. esther graham.
and i'm here to tell you all about the biggest blunder of my life.
after my first book, i hit major writing block. i would stare at my computer screen for hours just to delete the only three words that i could come up with. i would sit in coffee shops, pen in hand, ready for inspiration to strike, and yet, nothing. i was nearing the end of my college career, riding on the coattails of my first and only book's success, and couldn't figure out how to continue. my professors taught me plenty of ways to try and combat writer's block, but nothing worked.
until i met ryan. a devilishly handsome man all the way from the cheese state of wisconsin, who was meeting up with some college friends for the annual boston beanpot. we had our meet cute at a nearby pizza joint, in which i sat down and started chatting with him, thinking he was a publisher that i was supposed to meet with. after realizing my blunder when he had absolutely no idea what an anthology was, he asked if i wanted to join him and his friends at the beanpot, as one of their friends had cancelled, leaving them with an extra ticket.
ryan and i dated for four months. we would take turns traveling between my college in new york and his in wisconsin until eventually it became too much, or should i say, too little for him, and he broke it off. in my rage and complete depression from the breakup, i wrote my next hit, until the sun sets, a 142-page anthology of gut-wrenching poems, which was eventually integrated into hamilton college's curriculum for their young adult modern literature class. i was quite proud of that.
after that, i found myself yet again staring at blanks screens and empty notepads.
that is, until chloe. a beautiful new york native whom i had actually met while dating ryan. she was a hostess at a restaurant ryan and i would always go to. she was pursuing her masters in psychology, which gave me fascinating insights and tactics to use in my books. we were never officially together, but we had something for almost three months before she was whisked off by some californian named ella. i never saw her again, which prompted my next book, the ninth floor, a murder mystery following a closeted lesbian couple in 1940's hollywood (it was one of the girlfriends the whole time).
at this point, when i hit a creative block for the third time, i realized that i needed my heart or brain to be in absolute shambles in order to produce my best work. i needed to be at some sort of life crisis, and the easiest way to do so was to love another and let that love be ripped out of your life.
so, i began dating for the sake of my career. it was like i sought out the most manipulative, scummy people in the world who were able to get away with it just because they were attractive. over the course of a year, my first year out of college, i dated a total of three men and one woman, and poured my emotions out into a collection of short stories titled lavender.
and that was when i met jack.
i was in new jersey for a book signing at this little bookstore which, as it turns out, was right by the prudential center. as i left the bookstore, i was nearly run over by an overly excited man-child with a giant bag slung upon his shoulder.
"luke, watch out, you nearly killed that woman!" a voice yelled from where the man came from.
"i'm so sorry about that miss, my brother can get a bit overexcited sometimes." looking at the person talking to me, i found a young, very attractive brunet with the most adorable smile. i straightened myself up instinctively, wanting to appear presentable.
"no worries. if you don't mind me asking, what got him so riled up that he almost trampled me?" the man let out a laugh at my statement.
"of course, we owe you at least that much for your near-death experience. he just got nominated for the calder trophy." he explained, as if those words meant anything to me. seeing my blank stare, he clarified. "a rookie of the year award. we play for the new jersey devils." the boy in question came up and joined us, grinning ear to ear.
"ahhh, i see. i'm not a big hockey watcher, which i know is absolute blasphemy for someone who grew up in new hampshire." his jaw nearly dropped.
"you're from up here and don't like hockey? we have to change that." he exclaimed. in my peripheral vision, i could see his brother trying to hide his laughter at his brother's forwardness.
"ill have to come and watch a game sometime." i mused.
"we have a game coming up next week against the blue jackets. i could maybe snatch you a seat in exchange for your number." he proposed. his brother snorted at that, having to turn around to hide his obvious laughter. the man paid his brother no mind, just looking at me with a big smile on his face.
"trying to bribe me mister?"
"is it working?" i put my hand out and he immediately put his phone in my hand, adding my information into his contacts.
"esther? that's nice, you look like a esther." i quirked an eyebrow at him, but continued on anyways.
"and you? what should i call you?"
"call me yours. or jack, either works." the brother was doubled over on the floor at this point, jack finally acknowledging him by kicking him slightly, making him fall over.
"anyways, ms. esther, we have to get going, but ill see you next week at our game." he put out his hand for me to shake.
"you've got yourself a deal jack."
and just like that, jack and i started talking. his eagerness was cute, he texted me no more than ten minutes after meeting me. we talked every day, mainly on calls, asking each other questions and such to get to know each other.
and sure enough, the next week, i found myself back in new jersey watching the brothers play. i assumed jack was going to be some sort of benchwarmer or something, but that didn't seem to be the case. despite my lack of hockey knowledge, i could tell the boy was good, and he had quite a fan base if the amount of women wearing his jersey meant anything. and i felt severely out of place, simply wearing a grey sweater and jeans, unlike everyone else in the stands, decked out in red.
after that, i found myself going to a couple more hockey games, for no particular reason. jack would try to explain the game over video calls and our occasional coffee meet ups, but i couldn't for the life of me wrap my head around it. why do they all get off the ice every five seconds? and what the hell is offsides?? jack always laughed at my confusion, telling me that i'd get it one day.
we spent a couple months thriving off of video chats and once-in-a-blue-moon hangouts, until i got a job as an editor for a local paper. i was good at editing, always having good grammar and an eye for design, but it wasn't my dream. despite it not being my dream, i needed a stable income, and fast. my mind was devoid of ideas, and it didn't seem like that would change any time soon.
plus, it helped that this stable income happened to be in new york city, putting me a lot closer to a certain someone. and, with me being closer, that certain someone would pop on by a lot more than before. and eventually, chinese takeout dinners turned into staying the night, which turned into coming up for the weekend, which turned into the line of friendship being crossed into something more.
and then, i made the dumbest mistake of my life.
i let him go.
now, i know what you must be thinking. he must have done something wrong, he must have cheated or neglected me or done something so completely unforgivable that i would just throw away the most amazing thing in my life. and i wish i was here to tell you that was the truth.
but it wasn't.
jack was nothing but a gentleman, and i was just a broken girl doing the only thing i knew how to do: leave. i like to tell myself that it was for my career, that i needed to write another book, that i wasn't fulfilled in my job and that i was putting myself first by doing this, but i was perfectly content with my life. i was an editor for a major publishing company, i started writing little happy poems about my mundane life with jack, and wanted nothing more. i had no reason to run away. i just woke up in his bed one day and realized that i wanted to spend the rest of my life with him, and i couldn't accept that. i had gotten so used to leaving people that i assumed that they would leave me if i hadn't done so first, and i couldn't lose the one real thing i ever had.
so naturally, my self-destructive, self-sabotaging self let him go, the exact opposite of what i wanted.
and when i got back to my apartment after writing jack a confusing and half-assed letter, i cried. i cried and cried and cried, and i always wrote about characters crying until they couldn't anymore, but that day, i couldn't find the end to my tears. for hours tears would either slowly leak or violently pour from my eyes, and they never did end, not even when i passed out on my couch from exhaustion.
and after a week, i was expecting to pick myself up and start writing my next best seller, coping with my writing. but i sat there, and my florescent computer screen simply sat there, staring back at me. and when i left my apartment for a change of scenery, the blank pages of my notebook mocked me. i flipped through past works, all of them being little poems about jack, and the waterworks continued, right in the middle of a starbucks.
after a week and four days, i couldn't take it. i had to make things right, i had to at least see him. it always worked in the books, right? someone makes a huge mistake, they break up, they see each other again and realize they're both miserable without each other and then get back together and live happily ever after.
when i knocked on the door to jack's apartment, i was met with an unimpressed looking luke. at the sight of him, the waterworks started up again.
"you're an idiot, you know that?" i nodded furiously at this, sobs wrecking through my body. i couldn't see through the tears in my eyes, but i could tell the luke hadn't moved a muscle.
"he deserved better and you know that." i felt my soul being crushed. "i mean, a letter? seriously esther? and a half-assed one at that. i know damn well you don't have a degree in creative writing for that bullshit."
i opened my mouth to explain, but nothing came up. what would i say, that i was a broken person? cop out. that i did it to everyone? not much better. that i got scared? fucking coward.
"if you think that you deserve to see my brother, then i'll let you in." he told me, moving out of the way, door open wide. i just stood there, staring at him through teary eyes. my brain cheered, finally able to go in, but my feet wouldn't move.
my heart still clenched and ached, and with every thought of moving forward, into that apartment, it hurt more. jack didn't deserve this. after all the nights of him reading my poems about him and praising my work, after all the sweet things he'd say when i was down, after all the little acts of kindness he showed me, after all the love he poured into us, he didn't deserve to be broken by me. hurt people hurt people, the scholars had that right. he didn't deserve to be broken.
and so, i got ready to leave, again.
"i'm sorry." was all i said, turning around with heavy legs and a heavy heart. i heard luke let out a sigh as i walked away, closing the door behind him.
a couple of days went by and i found myself back at their apartment. i knew they wouldn't be there, they had an away game in anaheim the night before, and i knew from my time with jack that they would always spend the night in the city before coming back, especially after a win, a 5-0 win no less.
i stood there in front of their door, a small box in my hands, contemplating. jack didn't deserve this, but a selfish part of me needed this. i placed the box gingerly outside of their door and left the building. if the box was taken by some nosy neighbor, or thrown in the trash by some janitor, then it would be fate. it would be a sign to move on. but, there was a chance that jack and luke would come back to their apartment, and would pick up the box, and jack would recognize my handwriting. and, instead of throwing the box in the trash like any normal self-respecting person receiving a box from their shitty ex, he would take it to his room, and open it up to see my notebook, with a bookmark starting at the pages when i first started seeing him. and he would read the poems and maybe, just maybe, he'd see the note written on the bookmark to meet me at the park near his apartment, and maybe, just maybe, he'd be willing to hear me out.
i went to that park every single day for exactly one month and six days, always arriving by 1 pm, never late. and i would stay there until 4 pm, waiting.
on the 37th day, i was sitting there, editing, funnily enough, a sports column about the recent devils and islanders game. i watched it, absolutely terrible game it was, the islanders beating the devils for the first time in the season. our sports journalist, while passionate and very knowledgeable about seemingly every sport out there, had a knack for writing long, run-on sentences that reflected his rambling nature. as i sat there on the same park bench i had been sitting on for the previous 36 days, a figure stopped in front of me. i finished up the sentence i was working on before looking up.
and while i hate cliches, the wind was absolutely knocked out of my lungs.
"h-hey jack." i started, immediately putting away my work, giving him my full attention.
"hey esther." a shiver ran down my spine from him just saying my name. it had been so long, and while it lost its loving tone, i welcomed it with open arms. jack moved, taking the spot next to me, looking out at the trees in front of us. when it became apparent he wasn't going to say anything, i started the conversation.
"i see you read the notebook."
"i finished it three weeks ago." he replied, voice lacking its usual emotion. tears welled up in my eyes. three weeks.
"oh."
"i came here immediately after finishing it." i felt my eyes bulge out of their sockets at that. he continued, "i went to that bench over there and watched as you fidgeted in your spot, looking frantically at everyone who passed by. i watched the next day as you sat in the pouring rain with no umbrella. i sat over on that bench every day that i was here since reading your notebook."
a silence fell upon us, my mind reeling, trying to figure out what he was trying to say, from his emotionless face to the fact that he came.
"do you know how much it hurt? waking up to empty sheets and some half-assed note with the lamest excuses on earth?" i hadn't really paid mind to the tears rolling down my cheeks until he brought that up, sending me back to that morning, quickly scribbling out some gibberish before leaving the best part of my life behind.
"i was going to wait another month, y'know. to see if you were still gonna come here every day."
"so why didn't you?" i asked, sniffling intensely, trying to calm down my sobs.
"luke said i was absolutely miserable without you. coach told me i wasn't focused. my teammates pointed out that i barely left my apartment. the icing on the cake was when my mom started asking if you would be coming over to the lakehouse this summer. i realized, as pathetic as it seems, that i can't live without you."
my attempts at stopping my crying were thrown out the window at that. i could probably fill the hudson river with the amount of tears i had shed over the past two months.
"how can i make it up to you. please, please let me make it up to you." i begged, fully facing him, my hands angrily playing with the sleeves of my shirt because if i didn't, i would be reaching out to the man in front of me.
"never pull that shit again." he bargained, looking me dead in the eyes for the first time in months. and in that moment, i saw just how bad he was doing. sunken eyes with heavy bags, his skin dull, hair slightly unkempt under his hat.
"never again." i promised, putting out my pinky to him, something he would always do when he promised me to not get hurt in games. he let out a hoarse laugh, looking away from me, and when he looked back, i saw the tears brewing in his eyes. he took my pinky in his and held it there, between us.
"now, i'm not gonna just take you right back after all that. that was really shitty and i need some time to get over that. but, as i've found out, i can't really function without you. so maybe you could start with coming to my games again, and i could take you out for coffee next week."
"sounds perfect."
i accepted my life as an editor for the local newspaper, accepted that i probably wouldn't write another page-turning sell-out book, accepted that i was completely content with whatever happened to me, so long as jack was there with me.
and with that, my self-destructive, soul-crushing, heart-breaking tendencies reached their end.
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I've been rereading Emma these days and I think it has a lot of potential for an au. No, seriously, bear with me.
Edwin is like Emma - both have great confidence in their own observation skills and intelligence to the point of letting obvious things (including their own feelings) slip past their own knowledge. In addition, they are deeply touched by generosity and a desire to be helpful, although they are proud.
Charles is like Knightley - both are generous and helpful without any hesitation and do not mind openness in the people around them, especially those they desire as company. They are close friends with their respective peers and always regarded with the greatest esteem and consideration, even in the midst of disagreement. And there is the bitterness of jealousy that they try to hide with little success, too.
Niko is like Harriet - pretty, young and affable, always willing to accompany and make herself pleasant to those she cares about. A bit romantic and emotional about her own and others' romantic pretensions, but a bit uncertain about what to actually do with those pretensions. She may be swayed at first by well-articulated words, but her own desires are always heard in the end.
Crystal is like Robert Martin - they both seem to belong to a different reality, a different world, and they receive a certain amount of contempt for it. When they want something and are given the right incentives or are overcome by their own desire, they do not hesitate to reveal their intentions. Even in bitterness, they still try to be generous with those they care about and do not give up easily on those they love.
Cat King is like Frank Churchill - his good looks and affability are easy to please and he always knows how to make a smart comment or a well-placed compliment to charm those around him or those who have caught his eye. He clearly keeps his intentions hidden despite his attentions and seems much more willing to follow his own ideas of fun and comfort than to think about the consequences for those around him.
Monty is like Jane Fairfax - both prodigious and reserved, unfortunately a victim of they precarious living conditions that prevent they from truly having their talent and beauty recognized as deserved. The reserve can be seen as a secret that them hopes to hide from those around and most of they actions are for the purpose of pleasing someone else.
Esther is like Mrs. Elton - they both think they are more important than everyone else and are very vocal about it. They want to impose their will and demands on everyone else and establish harmful favoritism only to negatively affect other targets. However, they are elegant and well-positioned where they live.
Jenny is like John Knightley - with sarcastic remarks and sharp observations, both offers advice and opens the eyes of those around they even when doesn't mean to. No favoritism or unnecessary praise, just a person who does they job properly and shows affection in a somewhat unconventional way to those around.
Tragic Mick as Mr. Woodhouse - (I admit this was the hardest one to define, but I think it's the closest parallel I could find) both can be seen as obsessive about their physical misfortunes that are not resolved by anything, not even the various advice of those around them, and are always willing to give advice, solve or lament the problems of others. Their subjects are limited to mainly their own lamentations, but they genuinely care about people.
Genuinely thinking about writing a bit about this next year.
#I haven't decided yet who fits best for Night Nurse#but I'll get there#dead boy detectives#edwin payne#charles rowland#crystal palace#crystal palace surname von hoverkraft#cat king#monty the crow#esther finch#jenny green#jenny the butcher#tragic mick#payneland#palasaki#catcrow
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So my opinions on all the Dead Boy Detective/DBDA Characters
All of these are opinions as someone who has watched the show a few times now and also the Doom Patrol episode and I’ll give my opinions on the Doom Patrol versions at the end.
Spoilers for Dead Boy Detectives Show. And Doom Patrol season 3 ep. 3 and that episode alone
Charles Rowland
- Charles is such a sweetheart I love him. He’s always looking out for his friends and literally went to hell for Edwin, and kicked the Night Nurse for him. I just love him so much.
- I felt so bad for him in episode one when he says his dad, “wasn’t the nicest guy,” and in episode three when we see him break being forced to see a father k!ll his family over. I was actually crying with him saying he doesn’t “want to be a bad guy”! It broke me so badly, the abuse he went through and the fear he’ll become like his abusers is a very real thing and to see a character go through that makes the story feel more real, and makes me more sad. He could use some therapy.
- Him being the “brawn” of the team is pretty funny to me but thats most because if you watch the cast interactions you’ll see what I mean.
- All in all, I love him. He is loving, protective, loyal and has golden retriever with attachment issues energy mixed with scary dog privilege but the dog isn’t scary unless provoked.
Edwin Paine/Payne
- Adorable, get him some therapy please! He needs it! Man was so repressed for the first part of this show I thought I’d die before he confessed. But I don’t blame him honestly, his death was traumatic and being called a “Mary Ann” whilst being sacrificed likely would put a bad taste in your mouth about the idea of you being queer in any way shape or form. I am so proud of him good job!
- Honestly he just makes me so happy, and I love how he interacts with everyone and grows!
Crystal Palace
- I love her she is so bad ass and I hope wish the best for her
- She needs better taste in men, my suggestion date women
- I want to see a little more of her Nepo baby side of her past cause clearly that was a thing
Niko Sasaki
- Sweetie! I miss her! She was the only other person other than Charles to get Edwin out of his shell and it hurts me so much to see her be gone. Her death will forever haunt me.
Cat King
- I love him so much, he is my favourite kind of not evil but not good guy the kind that plays a game with people by flirting! Ahhh I love him! I don’t love that he falls for Edwin(I’ll make a separate post on this issue)
- Anywho I still love him he gives off chaotic gender neutral vibes and the song Sex With a Ghost was made for him, I just love him!
Monty the Crow
- Monty I love you but don’t kiss people without consent!
- Honestly he was very important, and sweet he didn’t deserve all the pain he’s been through, may better things come his way.
Jenny the Butcher
- Badass. I love everything about her. Her style, the way she gives advice, yes I just love her so much. I want to see more of her.
- Her episode made me so sad for her ;-;
Esther Finch
- Honestly I love her as a villain she was so evil, and a genuine threat. She is also so hot and scary I just love her.
David the Demon
- A creep I didn’t like him, I don’t know what else you want?
Doom Patrol versions!
Charles Rowland
- He was so funny in this, I loved him. I love how the show conveyed a mutual interest from him to Edwin they are both just too dense to say anything about it. I also love that it seems the only thing he knows about America is that they like baseball.
- They did have to go off and hurt me with the fear of water scene, but he was so sweet protecting Edwin from the Night Nurse(who in this is just 10 times scarier)
Edwin Paine
- Him not getting anything about modern times and brushing off his feelings for Edwin was so well done! I love how he tells Larry he “isn’t like him” saying he isn’t queer and that if he were that would be bad, he says this all in a very rude and brash tone and then proceeds to comfort Charles in the nicest to he is capable of.
- Beautiful 10/10
Crystal Palace
- Boss ass Bitch, girl boss. 8/10 I love her but no real opinions yet that is I may go back one day and edit this for her
I hope you liked this dumb post :3
#i’m hyperfixating#dead boy detectives#dead married couple on acid#dead boy detective netflix#dead boy detective agency#dbda#watch dbda#text post#my post#charles rowland#edwin paine#edwin payne#crystal palace#dead boy detectives doom patrol#niko sasaki#monty the crow#cat king#esther finch#jenny the butcher#david the demon#opinions on characters#i just wanted to post something#this was longer than i expected#this is subject to change#this show is so good#this show has taken over my life#this show has me in a chokehold#this is actually something my diagnosed ADHD has decided is the most important thing in my life and the reason to wake up in the morning
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Hear me out: Javid (who aren't dating yet) meet annoying nosy little brother who doesn't know how to keep his mouth shut
Like- Les follows David around everywhere and probably knew Jack and David liked each other before they knew themselves, so he probably assumed they already liked each other/were together and he told EVERYONE about it so one day Racetrack casually asks Jack how his relationship with David is going and Jack is just like "huh"
And that same night Esther sits David down and starts telling him she'll love and support him no matter what and poor David is so confused and has no idea what she's talking about
So the next day they get together and laugh about it and one of them makes a joke like "I'd rather date you than anyone else really" or something idk and they just kinda mutually agree and go "oh yeah" and just start dating
And years later Les is the best man at their wedding and he's all proud of himself because they wouldn't have gotten together if he hadn't told everyone they liked each other
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about a year after i decided to convert to judaism, i found out my moms dads family was jewish.
my first reaction was irritation. it was mostly a mock anger; i joked that if great-grandma rose hadn’t converted to christianity i wouldn’t have had to go the long way back to judaism. but some of that irritation was real. ever since i started my conversion i’ve felt like i’ve come home. i can’t imagine my life without it at this point. how could she have ever left?
i wondered if her mom- esther, a ukrainian jew who fled to the united states in the 1910’s- was disappointed she’d converted.
all i know about my great grandmas rose and esther are from census records and bits and pieces my mom remembers from her childhood. i know they both spoke ukrainian- esther never learned how to speak english, and rose never taught her son david how to speak ukrainian. i know esther’s name was changed to “stella” at some point in the 1940s. rose made hamantaschen during christmas, and taught my mom how to make pierogi. i don’t know why esther left ukraine but i’ve got a pretty good guess.
i don’t know why grandma rose converted. maybe she really did believe jesus was the messiah. maybe orthodox christianity was, for her, a way to escape antisemitism while being as close as she could to judaism. i don’t know. but i definitely don’t blame her like i used to. i’m coming home, and i hope she would be proud of me.
#sorry for the long post#but i have so much to say all the time#jumblr#jewish conversion#judaism#goy2joy#jewblr
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fic: Edwin the Friendly Ghost
Title: Edwin the Friendly Ghost Fandom: Dead Boy Detectives (Netflix) , hints of Casper (movie) Pairing: Edwin Payne/Cat King 👻💕😻 Rating: T Tags: AU, romance, ghosts (it needs extra mentioning here), adventure, magic, murder (mentioned), animal death (mentioned) Characters: Thomas the Cat King, Edwin Payne, Charles Rowland, Crystal Palace, Niko Sasaki, Esther Finch
Summary: Cat is a parapsychologist specialising in afterlife therapy. His latest job sends him across the country to Whipstaff manor in Maine, where he is supposed to encourage some ghosts to leave. Things do not go as planned.
Notes: Casper crossover because of reasons. (The reasons being that I watched the movie again after years and noticed that the ghost falls in love with “Kat” 😹)
Thank you to my busy beta Bee 🐝
I am crazy proud of this one (and it also makes me crazy nervous 😅)
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Definetely noticed how much I am learning about the game through trial and error. Some details I just don't notice, until a certain moment where it clicks in my head.
Earlier this morning I rewatched the videos from the developers and noticed they did show closeups of a few crew members, including Muir and I was like- Wait, that's him!
I remember watching that video before, but not quite understanding who these characters were, or maybe the way they got rendered threw me off.
Seeing how much I am learning here makes me wonder, how come I don't do the same with other topics? There is so much I could learn, if I had the motivation or the drive. It's hard on some days.
Either way, I feel like making a small post for myself with various links/image references. At one point I have to make a mega post to link each of my research posts, so that it's easier to pinpoint.
Here are some face closeups of a few crew members
Innes (I am sorry everyone it looks like he's half bald)*
Gibbo - Gibson
Muir
Brodie, Edit: I think the two images are actually Dobbie? But I'll check up on this in the future again
O'Conner (This one was a bit hard to identify, but some folk on discord helped me)
Roper
Video Source:
youtube
*In the Cantines I noticed another person that looks similar to the model, that I linked to Innes. Tho that person wears a red suit, while Innes wears blue. Tho I still think the above pictures fit for Innes, we never get to see him without his hat. So it's hard to say for me.
Helpful Link for the Achievements (scroll down for a List of Achievement Timestamps):
(I still need 3 of them)
Ripped 3D Models on Sketchfab (You need an account to view Muir, Addair, Trots and Rennick):
What I also did was looking through reddit to find tiny pieces of information here and there. I am not sure how deep I want to dive in for this game, considering it's quite time consuming to check small details (replaying the entire game again each time). But here are two Screenshots I grabbed from TheChineseRoom's comments on Reddit.
And of course their Youtube Channel has a bunch of Videos about Behind the Scenes. Quite interesting listening through them. Helps me to get a small glimpse into the Industry and how things work.
I think I have rambled for long enough, I gotta tidy up XD Been posting so much about this game, hope it doesn't get annoying.
Either way, if anyone has something else to add to this, feel free to tell me.
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November photo dump 🍂 as posted on Instagram (🔗).
Text in Spanish here 🇪🇸👇🏻, in English below the cut 🇬🇧🇺🇸
~~~
Noviembre.
Si fuese una canción, sería Endorfina, de Chica Sobresalto.
Si tuviese algún olor, olería al polvo que se levanta al sacar cosas guardadas hace tiempo, como los abrigos en el armario, el árbol de navidad en una caja o los disfraces bajo el colchón.
Desde luego, ha sido un mes de sacar cosas de los cajones y disfrutarlas como si fueran nuevas. Los disfraces para Halloween (sí, el maquillaje es del 31 de octubre, pero estoy demasiado orgulloso de ello como para no aprovecharlo), los adornos de Navidad, la buena costumbre de ponerse delante de una cámara...
Nnoviembre. Una tontería fugaz y aleatoria que aparece en mi mente, como otras tantas. La saco, soplo el polvo que la cubre e intento palpar los detalles con la yema de mis dedos, pero con el tiempo se han desdibujado y no logro discernirlos. Es curioso lo que mi memoria caprichosa elige conservar y lo que decide dejar ir. Dentro de un rato volverá a entretenerse con cualquier canción en bucle y esto desaparecerá en el olvido.
Este ha sido el mes de entender que el tiempo y la energía son finitos, y las reservas de ambos menguan paulatina e inexorablemente. Cada vez me hace más falta encerrarme, sentir el placer de la quietud y la soledad, incluso aunque sea soledad iluminada por ese pequeño círculo de personas que sois Colacao caliente para el corazón (aunque a veces sería más preciso más hablar de personas cerveza, como las catalogaría mi amiga Esther). Sí, ha sido el mes de priorizar, de darme cuenta de que he de seleccionar cuidadosamente en qué invierto ese tiempo y esa energía que cada vez me hacen más falta. De en qué me hace más feliz invertirlos.
Como otro de esos recuerdos que van y vienen, desempolvo también a alguien que prefiero fingir que no existe, portadora de un estandarte deleznable, pero que fue la primera en mencionarme esa terrible verdad secreta de los adultos: que con el tiempo ese círculo será cada vez más y más estrecho. Aunque últimamente ese recuerdo salga de su cajón con más frecuencia que muchos de los demás, tras un rato contemplándolo, finalmente lo vuelvo a colocar donde estaba, cierro el cajón y me calzo para seguir adelante un día más, un pie detrás del otro.
November.
If it were a song, it would be "Endorfina" by Chica Sobresalto.
If it had a smell, it would be the scent of dust that rises when you take out things stored away for a long time, like coats in the closet, the Christmas tree in a box, or costumes under the bed.
Indeed, it has been a month of pulling things out of drawers and enjoying them as if they were new. The costumes for Halloween (yes, the makeup is from October 31, but I'm too proud of it not to make the most of it), the Christmas decorations, the good habit of standing in front of a camera...
Nnovember. A fleeting and random memory that pops into my mind, like so many others. I take it out, blow off the dust that covers it, and try to feel the details with my fingertips, but over time they've blurred and I can't distinguish any of them. It's so funny what my capricious memory chooses to retain and what it decides to let go. In a while, it'll entertain itself with any song on loop, and this will disappear into oblivion.
This has been the month of understanding that time and energy are finite, and the reserves of both gradually and inexorably diminish. I increasingly need to lock myself away, to feel the pleasure of stillness and solitude, even if it's solitude illuminated by that small circle of people who are hot chocolate for the heart (although sometimes it would be more precise to speak of beer people, as my friend Esther would categorize them). Yes, it has been the month of prioritizing, of realizing that I must carefully select what I invest that time and energy in, which I increasingly need. In what makes me happiest to invest them.
Like another of those memories that come and go, I also dust off someone I prefer to pretend doesn't exist, bearer of a despicable banner, but who was the first to mention to me that terrible secret truth of adults: that over time that circle will become smaller and smaller. Although lately that memory comes out of its drawer more often than many others, after contemplating it for a while, I finally put it back where it was, close the drawer, and put on my shoes to move forward one more day, one foot after the other.
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What if Brooklynn and Kenji adopt a cat/dog (maybe both)? I need someone to do hc's abt what would happen---
No need to ask me twice.
- They're DEFINETLY dog people (especially Brooklynn) so when they decide to get a pet they immediately agree on a dog. (I wrote that as a headcanon then remembered that Kenji told his dad he's always wanted a dog in season 5 😂).
- Brooklynn hates small dogs, they irritate her, so that wasn't even an option.
- They hesitate btw a few breeds but eventually agree on a Saint-Bernard since they live near montains and love its big bear appearance.
- When they went to choose which puppy they wanted to adopt, one of them peed on Kenji when he picked it up, so Brooklynn insisted they chose this one, and strangely enough Kenji agreed (he took it as a sign the dog liked him).
- It's a female, of course they name her Esther.
- To mess with the camp fam they told them they were having a daughter, so for a whole week the others thought they were having a real baby. They hadn't predicted Sammy would send them a year's worth of baby clothes by the mail.
- At first they tried to get the puppy to sleep on the floor, but gave up after the first night because it wouldn't stop crying, so she slept at their feet. But after a few months she'd grown so much that she barely fit inside the trailer anymore, so they made her a huge kennel right next to them (it reminded them of when they built the camp on Nublar). They often joke about the fact that the kennel is fancier and more comfortable than their trailer.
- They put a camera (baby monitor) inside the kennel because they were so worried the first night she slept inside that they didn't sleep at all.
- Kenji wanted to take dog training classes, terrified of the idea that they might be doing anything wrong, but left before the end of the first lesson. He hated being told that his daughter wasn't perfect.
- Brooklynn, as the independant queen she is, predicted Kenji would be the one petting the dog all day but turns out she can't keep her hands off of it's furr for more than two minutes, and Kenji teases her about it all the time. He can't help but be endeared when she talks to Esther with her baby voice.
- Brooklynn has thousands of pictures of Esther on her phone and can't stop showing them off to everyone they know.
- They celebrate her adoption day every year with a cake with candles for them, and fancy dog biscuits for Esther.
- Kenji often takes Esther with him on his hikes, and of course when Brooklynn has the time she joins them.
- He sometimes also takes her with him when he teaches rock climbing. She has her own little spot and gets to be pet by his students.
- They're the annoying proud dogs parents who won't shut up about it.
- The funny thing is that they tried to make other dog-owner friends but found them annoying and overbearing as heck.
- During summer they often take her to the river near their trailer and play in the water with her.
- Everytime they had their weekly meetings with the camp fam she tried to get on the table to see the screen so they started putting the computer somewhere she could see, that way the others could also get to see her.
- She has a habit of stealing Brooklynn's phone when she's not looking and hiding it.
- Kenji's absolutely incapable of scolding her so Brooklynn always has to play the bad cop. Everytime she scolds her because she misbehaved, Esther goes to Kenji thinking she will get away with what she did which annoys Brooklynn to no ends.
- Brooklynn always teases Kenji, telling him that Esther reminds her of him (too much energy, loud, drooling when they sleep).
- They often argue over who they think Esther likes the most, but always end up agreeing on the fact that she'd pick food over the both of them any day. Or uncle Ben.
#camp cretaceous#jwcc#chaos theory#jwct#kenji kon#brooklynn#sammy gutierrez#yasmina fadoula#darius bowman#ben pincus#headcanons#kenlynn#jurassic world
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Alrighty guys, I’ve added more to Vampire Monty! We have part one and two if you haven’t read those. Thanks @eat-the-lemons for the idea and thanks @parathepineapple for proofreading! Here’s part three of four in the Vampire Monty Au!
“Well do tell us your theory Crystal.” Edwin grabbed his notebook to take notes.
“He can’t eat normal food, he goes crazy blood, he’s got sunlight sensitivity, and fangs. That’s textbook definition vampire!” she said, proud of her deduction.
“That makes quite a bit of sense Crystal, well done!” Edwin told her, snapping his notebook shut.
“Wait, wait! I can’t be a vampire, I’ve never been bitten!” Monty was gobsmacked. His mind was racing and he like he needed to sit down.
“Being bitten is not the only way to be turned,” Edwin began, “Charles can you grab-“
“Vampires Vol. 1: How They Came to Be? Way ahead of you mate,” Charles interjected, setting the book on the desk.
“Let us see,” Edwin murmured as he began flipping through the book, “do you remember anything about your death and resurrection?” Monty shook his head.
“No, I just remember falling to the floor and then waking up and being human again.” He shrugged, internally cursing his lack of memory of the whole affair.
“Hold up mate, you said you fell? What happened?” Charles asked, concern lacing his voice.
“When Esther was dragged away our witch-familiar bond was destroyed and I died,” he explained sadly.
“God, that fucking sucks!” Crystal exclaimed.
“Alright, you were a crow, you died, and when you woke up you were human? Or, a vampire?” Edwin asked, writing in his notebook.
“Um, yeah. Sorry I don’t remember anything, I feel pretty useless right now,” Monty admitted.
“Nah mate, you’ve been brills. Maybe we could use our lovely psychic to investigate where you died?” Charles suggested, looking at Crystal.
“I have some money put aside but I don’t think it’s enough to get me to Port Townsend,” Crystal said.
“Well I’ve got some money. Esther sure doesn’t need it anymore and I found a job at the library too,” Monty offered and turning towards Crystal.
“Oh perfect, thanks Monty!” Do you want to start planning the trip?” Crystal asked Monty and grabbed her phone to start planning.
#monty the crow#vampire monty#dead boy detectives#edwin payne#charles rowland#crystal palace surname von hoverkraft#writing stuff idk#writing#acheel writes
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