#god i love my tchotchkes so much

[stars-inthe-sky]

People in 30s ask: 17, 18, 30

17. What's a movie you saw recently that you liked?

Furiosa was definitely worth seeing in a theater, even if it wasn't quite the revelation that Fury Road was.

18. Pro or anti tchotchkes?

Extremely pro. There are tchotchkes on my desk I've had since elementary school! Boyfriend recently started asking about some of their origins, there are so many—although there's not really any lore so much as details on where each came from. But I love them.

30. How many pairs of scissors do you own?

I think four, including a trio of regular ones and my tiny-but-sharp knitting ones.

[dreamlogic]

...

[pwnyta]

Now that im done with my GI dailies...

ROUND 2 of the BNHA award show starts!

The award for QUICKEST YET BADDEST ENTRANCE AND EXIT goes to...

Star!

Damn she was a bad bitch....

------

Award for I DONT BELIEVE THAT MAN HAS EVER BEEN TO MEDICAL SCHOOL goes to....

ITS A TIE!!!

JEANIST AND WHATS-HIS-FACE!

Ok they can preform open heart surgery? Sure...

-----

Award for BIGGEST ASSPULL goes to...

ANOTHER TIE AND WELCOME BACK

BEST JEANIST & SERIOUSLY I CANT REMEMBER HIS NAME FOR THE LIFE OF ME

AND!!! ERI!!!

Damn this was dumb as hell....

----

Award for MOST DISAPPOINTING COME BACK goes to...

MIRIO!

...off-screen.... girl... Mirio I love you so much theres no way you should be this lame...

------

Award for SERIOUSLY WHY THE FUCK WAS THIS GUY ADDED? IT HAD LIKE NO SATISFYING PART IN THE STORY.... goes to....

KUROGIRI!

Kurogiri you were so intriguing before Hori made you a zombie of Aizawas friend he just randomly added...

-----

The award for MAKING ME THINK OF THE WEATHER EPISODE FROM UNHHHHH goes to....

...??? HER!!!!

HELLLOOOO WERE HAVING WEATHER~~~~

-----

Award for MOST WASTED STORY POTENTIAL IN MAYBE ALL OF MANGA HISTORY goes to....

Mutant bigotry!!!

Really Hori your bringing this up now? To try and make Spinners random character turn understandable? Weve had mutant characters the ENTIRE GOD DAMN TIME HORI!!! PRO HEROES! STUDENTS! RANDOM BG CHARACTERS! YOURE BRINGING THIS UP NOW!? TOKOYAMI ALMOST KILLED SOME OF HIS CLASSMATES!!!! YOU THINK BIGOTS WOULDNT HAVE SOMETHING TO SAY ABOUT IT!? WHAT A TOOTHLESS TONE-DEAF RACISM ALLEGORY!! HOLY SHIT HORI IM SO PISSED ABOUT THIS YOU CANT EVEN IMAGINE.

------

Award for MOST DRAWN OUT NOT-DEAD REVEAL goes to...

BAKUGO

I mean obviously.... You know letting him actually have some smooth character development woulda been too hard for Hori...

----

Award for HOLY SHIT THE 'CEST SHIPPERS ARE GONNA LOVE THIS SHIT goes to....

ITS A TIE!!!! TWINSIES!!!

Endeavor/Dabi

AND!!!

THE SHIGARAKIS!

...Yall can get mad at me for this one... You know I aint wrong...

-----

Award for MOST UNHINGED YET SELFLESS ROMANTIC SACRIFICE goes to....

STAIN!!!!

Seriously Im in tears... how did this happen...

----

Award for THE MOST POINTLESS FACE HEAL FACE TURN IN HISTORY goes to....

....HER!

??? Seriously you got pissed about killing villains so you started killing heroes even a teenage boy? Thats so fucking stupid girl....fuckin WHAT?

-----

Award for I DONT CARE WHAT ANYONE SAYS YOURE AN UNDERRATED TOP TIER G AND YOU DESERVE AN AWARD goes to...

MT LADY!!!

DAMN SHES FUCKING COOL! NEVER DISAPPOINTS IN A FIGHT!

-------

Award for SHUT THE FUCK UP!!! SHUT UP!!! THIS ISNT CHARACTER DEVELOPMENT!!!! I HATE YOU I HATE YOU I HATE YOU I HATE Y- goes to...

ENDEAVOR!!

SHUT YOUR BITCH ASS UP ENDEAVOR!!!

------

Award for THEY NEEDED TO TAKE YOU OUT EARLIER ON SO YOU COULDNT CLAP THE BADDIES CHEEKS AND ITS SO OBVIOUS WHY DID HORI MAKE YOU SO STRONG FOR NO REASON TOKOYAMI???? goes to....

TOKOYAMI!!!

HOLY SHIT TOKOYAMI!

--------

Award for I HATE THAT THEYRE MAKING ME DEFEND YOU... goes to...

HAWKS!!!

Hawks gave Twice plenty of chances to stop fucking killing people so he could be taken in alive! WHY DO I HAVE TO DEFEND THIS BLACKHOLE OF WASTED FUCKIN TIME HORI WTF....???

-----

Award for MOST WEIRDLY TOUCHING DEDICATION goes to...

All Mights CANT STOP TWINKLING attack!

The way I cried a little... my little tchotchke.... Him changing his attacks from states to his students was already so good but damn... :') Aoyama deserved this.

-----

Award for MOST TRAGICALLY SUBMISSIVE BABYGIRL goes to...

ALL MIGHT!!!

I mean we knew from the jump but.... DAMN Toshi.

------

Award for MOST HATED GOOD SHIP goes to...

KIRISHIDO!!!

Seriously FUCK those KRBK fans! Im so glad you got bested by the BKDKs you rancid fucks.... This ship was always superior!!!

------

Award for LOVING SHOTO THE MOST goes to....

Certainly not his fucking family....

IIDA!!!!

So this is love... mmm mmm mmm mmm~ So this is... love?

----

Award for SICKEST VILLAIN DESIGN goes to...

Kunieda(I guess?)

Seriously this guy is so fucking cool looking. Clears literally every single villain design. Its not even close.

------

The award for MOST HORNGRY goes too....

AFO

Seriously AFO... if you werent so obsessed with Toshi you probably woulda won its literally so fucking funny.... Elevated the nosebleed trope to literally spurting blood from the forehead veins from how aggressively horknee you are. LMAO. AND YET somehow this is not the weirdest boner you have for another man.

---

Award for THE MOST CONSISTENTLY GOOD CHARACTER IN BNHA goes to...

ALL MIGHT. Obviously.

IDK if Hori loves you or hates you by how he writes you Toshi but damn you wear this consistency so fuckin well not even Hori could fuck you up!

-----

Award for MOST REALISTICALLY AGED BY THE STRESS OF THIS BATTLE goes to...

Naomasa!!

.... LMAO... Damn. Stress so intense it made you turn into a distinctly designed character.. The magic of facial hair and eyebags...

---

The award for REALLY BITCH!? YOU HAVE A PERFECT COUNTER FOR STAINS QUIRK BUT NOT ONE TO AGE YOURSELF TO COUNTER YOUR DEAGING?! THATS FUCKIN CONVENIENT HORIKOSHI goes to...

AFO!!! For BLOODLET!

The only blemish on the otherwise sickest side battle in this whole arc TBH..

-----

Thats the end of part 2 of BNHA AWARDS!!! Some serious upsets this round! Damn!

[youngestdaughtersyndrome]

Is there any chance you can give us a tag directory?

I can certainly try!!! Its not a complete directory because i have over a hundred and even i lose track of all of them. Anyways im putting the list under the cut ... i tried to organize it to the best of my ability so GENERAL is for housekeeping, TANGIBLE CONCEPTS are for physical things, FLEXIBLE CONCEPTS are things that hover between physical and conceptual, INTANGIBLE CONCEPTS are things that fully conceptual, and SPECIFIC MEDIA is for specific bands/shows/etc. I highly recommend if youre on mobile you DO NOT hit keep reading because its absurdly long and will take over ur dash. Anyways have fun knock urself out

GENERAL:

hollyws: original posts..... went by holly for a while on here, first url was honeyhollows, hollows has similar spelling to holly, you get the gist

a: a is for assorted, so anything that doesnt have an actual organizational tag goes in there-- memes, textposts, current events, etc

srb: self reblog, but not for every one of my og posts that i rb, just the ones that surpass a thousand notes and therefore get deleted. Its my greatest hits pretty much

for later: links, resources, things i want to return to, you get the gist

tag game: those like questionnaire-type games one gets tagged in

asks: asks that ive answered

vdo: in-app videos

the world flows past on both sides distant and mute: audio tag. From nazim hikmet's poem "things i didnt know i loved"

mb: moodboards

our hands empty except for our hands: webweaving and parallel posting. From ocean vuong's "on earth we're briefly gorgeous"

fave: favorites, obvs

blog thesis: the tag equivalent of me calling something real as hell, containing things that qualify as my belief system

my face: selfie tag, but most (all of them actually) get deleted approx 24 hours from original posting time so there's not really anything in there

maeve tag: pictures of my dog reside here

foster tag: my family fosters dogs sometimes, so if we've got a foster and i post a picture, it goes here

matryoshka dog, blue is your color, gi posting, betsy's ordination song, evan's dream journal: personalized tags for friends of mine

TANGIBLE CONCEPTS:

born to blow your mind or something along those lines: art! From the last shadow puppets' "miracle aligner"-- pretty much everything but photography...

the human eye is the loneliest creation: ...because this is the photography tag. I typically only use it when an image doesnt fit into any other tag, so its basically my "a" tag but for like formal images only. Kind of an ocean vuong quote but i changed it from "the human eye is god's loneliest creation" to that bc i go back and forth on god and whatnot

there's a brand new talk but it's not very clear: fashion, both in the conceptual runway sense and the "this is cute, i would wear this" sense. Aptly from david bowie's "fashion"

play pause rewind: anything having to with film or tv (that i dont have a specific tag for)-- gifsets, interviews, editorial style guides, etc.

people!: pictures where you can put a name to the face, so either celebrities or pictures that have their name in the caption

let it go free: items-- jewelry, knick knacks, tchotchkes, etc. A combination of things i would want and things i find beautiful, which are not necessarily mutually exclusive

cabinet of curiosities: a multitude of objects at once-- dollhouses, boxes full of stuff, dishes of jewelry. Its different from "let it go free" because i said so

interiors: decor, interior design, etc.

dishes: plates and platters and whatnot that i like

they really want you: dolls. From hole's "doll parts"

the light on your door: mirrors. From the velvet underground and nico's "i'll be your mirror"

releases: cars, usually crashed or rotting or in some other form of disuse, but also just normal, completely fine cars. Go watch crash 1996 dir. david cronenberg and then we'll talk

hundred voices: spirals. Also concentric circles.

nacreous: pearls, things with a mother-of-pearl inlay, etc

it's coming coming down: eyes. From sonic youth's "beauty lies in the eye"

bad girl meat: teeth. From lady gaga's "teeth"

divine and sharp: weapons, or at least some very pointy things one shouldnt run with

happiness is: a warm gun. Guns in general actually-- this is my tag for guns. From the beatles' "happiness is a warm gun". Duh

prisms: food. Lots of cake in this tag but its all foods not just cake.... i just like cake

o sailor: sailing, nautical stuff, ships, etc. From fiona apple's eponymous song

it's buzzcut season anyways: cutting hair, from lorde's "buzzcut season".

tattoos: well, its tattoos. Not necessarily ones i would want or even inspiration for future tattoos, its just that if a tattoo is the main focus of an image, it goes in here

invitation to peace: deer tag, from system of a down's "deer dance".

draw blood just to taste it hold bones just to break them: canine tag as in dogs, not the teeth, and also one that i wish wasnt so long because man this is a pain to type out. From nicole dollanganger's "dog teeth"

weird fishes: fish. From radiohead's "weird fishes"

lo voy a tener que matar: cats! From los saicos' "el entierro de los gatos". Also yeah i know it means "i'm going to have to kill him" i just think its real funny

in silence i have pulled myself free: tag for horses and all things horse related. From pj harvey's "horses in my dreams"

cowboys are frequently secretly fond of each other: cowboys. From willie nelson's eponymous song

they don't love you like i love you: places i grew up in/nearby-- it's pretty much everything west of colorado with a bit of mexico in there. From yeah yeah yeahs' "maps"

like the blue blonde hollyhocks of the dead: flower tag (all sorts, not just hollyhocks). Another bastardized quote, this time from sandra cisneros' a house on mango street-- the original is "dusty hollyhocks thick and perfumy blue-blond hair of the dead". Very good book you should read it

we return to each other in waves: things relating to the water-- the ocean, lakes, rivers, etc. It's definitely a quote from something but i cant find the og source and i dont trust pinterest

consumed and refined: fire, things on fire, burning, yada yada yada

tamer: ice, snow, frozen things, etc

01010000: all things mold and rot. Referring, of course, to the date the world began to decay, which was the day it was created

FLEXIBLE CONCEPTS:

lamentations! lamentations!: art or quotes or whatever that make me scream cry throw up wail howl prostrate myself etc.

the everything the patterns: my humanity tag! Doubles as both an "awww, arent humans cute?" tag and a catchall for people who aren't celebrities and don't have their names in the caption

god and other highways: religion and god, but mostly god. If you see something in there and you think "how could this possibly be related to god OR religion?" mind your own damn business <3

i believe in angels: things i consider to be angelic, which is a classification system even more lengthy and unnecessary than this tagging system. From abba's "i have a dream"

bolts in the head: monsters and generally spooky things. And yeah ik frankenstein doesnt actually have bolts in his head and that was a lie the movie made up but also the nature and definition of a monster is just as illusory and invented as the bolts are

whispers in the air: ghosts, or the fleeting nature of things, or the imagined, or the abstraction of the memory. So yeah its ghosts

when i love you it's forever: the dead, but focusing on the flesh left behind instead of the ghost that proceeds ahead. From "confessions of a skull mask", in the anthology "necrophilia variations"

we have put her living in the tomb: houses or general structures, officially haunted or otherwise (because all buildings are haunted in some way tbh). From my favorite edgar allen poe story "the fall of the house of usher" :)

the roots of the tree: things relating to childhood, development, or family

the lovers: art, photos, etc typically with two things interacting in some familiar way. Not necessarily nsfw, but theres definitely some lesbian erotica in there so beware

cut open my sternum and pull my little ribs around you: gore and blood and all that fun stuff. Not all images of blood go in here so if youre sensitive about pictures of blood beware. You probably shouldnt follow me if you are tbh. Anways it's from purity ring's "fineshrine"

is it a love song?: hunger, desire, violence, and the place where they intersect. Gore is in here also <3 and it's a quote from the 1983 film the hunger

race my heart race my soul: images i really really love. I would say its my aesthetic but aesthetics are a lie propagated by Big Capitalism to get you to buy more shit you dont need so no its not and dont get it twisted..... from "i'll never learn" by the shangri-las, which is possibly my favorite song. I go back and forth on what my favorite song is, but this one's up there for sure

put on your red shoes and dance the blues: all things red. From david bowie's "let's dance", but the original or 2002 remaster and not the 2018 remaster because as much as i love saxophone its totally out of the blue in the intro of the 2018 remaster and i dont like it

love me blue: all things blue, from zayn's "blue". And i have no qualms with any version of this song because i love you zayn

twilight sun: all things pink, from something that someone said to me in passing once and i thought it was nice.

the dead image of life: all things green

capable of charming god: all things yellow

tête à tête: ballet, and things relating to ballet. Even pictures of models with their ribbons tied all messed up go in here, im sorry to say

do you think you've made the right decision this time?: departure, transit, etc. Coming from, though, not going to-- the emphasis is on the leaving. From the smiths' "london" (underrated track tbh)

disappearance in transformation: bugs that can fly-- mainly moths and butterflies, but some beetles and other grubs appear here too

kill this chorus: people in relation to water-- in puddles, swimming, drowning, etc. Im not saying what this is from... if you know you know and also you know why that phrase pertains to that imagery

the luckiest by far: celestial bodies, clouds, the sky, etc. From madonna's lucky star

heaven waits on the other side: weddings, mostly brides and wedding dress-type stuff. From nicole dollanganger's "heart shaped bed"

godspeed your love: all things relating to love (and occasionally heartbreak). From possibly the greatest love song ever, the righteous brothers' "unchained melody"

lily left alone: playing cards and things having to do with suites of cards. Kind of from bob dylan's "lily, rosemary, and the jack of hearts" but not really

bloodied black: martyrs, warriors, knights. Lots of pictures of armor and joan of arc imagery here

mourning lamb: farm animals, mainly sheep but also cows and pigs and whatnot. From ethel cain's "ptolemaea"

all down: typography, handwritten things, etc-- everything from journal entries to song lyrics to letters to typed notes

time is a river: myths, folklore, classics, historical art, etc. Technically a quote from heraclitus but every knows it bc of marcus aurelius

INTANGIBLE CONCEPTS:

from the fire roads: get ready for this because this and the following five tags are all connected. This is the tag equivalent of exposition on the hero's journey-- the scene is a small town, a childhood bedroom, a parking lot, etc. From bruce springsteen's "racing in the streets"

and i see big things for you: this is the first threshold (transformation) in the hero's journey. In this particular case, the protagonist becomes a groupie for a band that passed through the town, and this world of travel and casual excess is very different from the world theyre from. The scene is a basement shows, cigarettes in a hotel bed, underfunded recording studios, etc. From wolf alice's "white leather"

somewhere there's a party: the "challenges and temptations" part of the hero's journey-- our protagonist gets tired of the constant moving and, craving something more, ends up in a big city working as a model/socialite. The scene is a closet filled with frills and designer clothes, a gala, the backstage of a fashion show, etc. From the replacements' "swingin' party"

don't cry about it: now at the second threshold (abyss) of the hero's journey, things start going downhill. The protagonist loses themself in a wave of drugs, sex, and excess; the scene is now a large bathroom with a shattered mirror, a smoke-filled bdsm club, a nosebleed, etc. From lana del rey's "this is what makes us girls"

careful fear / dead devotion: with the third threshold (atonement) in the hero's journey comes the protagonist's realization of their own rock bottom and the desire to get better. The scene is a dark bedroom with light coming through the door, a park at night, an open window, etc. From the nationals' "don't swallow the cap"

born with a weak heart: the end of the hero's journey-- the protagonist takes what money they have left and splits, getting a place in the middle of nowhere and working as an attendant somewhere they won't be recognized. The scene is a clearing in the woods, a warm kitchen, a grocery store, etc. From talking heads' "this must be the place"

there was to be no death in eden: Mostly i use it for animals that i dont have a specific tag for, large groups of animals, animals in little people clothes, fantasy art, folk tales, children's books, or anything else i consider to be edenic. Im gonna be honest with you i have a weird idea of eden because i saw it in a dream ... more on that here if u scroll down to where it says september 22 2023. Its an ellen g. white quote im pretty sure, and while i personally hate the seventh-day adventists and everything that entails, i do respect a woman who gets visions

you got your good thing: things pertaining to heaven, which is a vibe i cannot possibly explain bc i saw it in a dream as well but i will link you here nonetheless and just hope you get it. In short basically heaven is an archive and the angels never build it right because they're working off pure image untainted by emotion and human perspective so everything looks a little wonky and clinical (they mean well though). From david lynch's "in heaven (lady in the radiator song", off the eraserhead 1977 soundtrack

pelican island: birds. Also any sort of ghostly island or mysterious shore. Ghosts, too. From deena metzger's eponymous poem

ST PAUL MOMENT ST PAUL MOMENT: the nature version of my humanity tag. Refers to the biblical tale of st. paul, who was blinded then healed by jesus as a way of converting him to christianity (which is fucking crazy and sooo dramatic but we're not here to talk abt that). The point is that its the sensation of being awakened to a natural power higher than yourself, like how flowers always have a number of petals that complies with the fibonacci sequence

thou mayest: being good, being bad, the feeling of being torn between your capacities for good and evil, the shame of feeling evil, etc. Go read john steinbeck's east of eden and then we'll talk

soul opium: solitude, isolation, loneliness

thorn without a rose: hole theory. From aerosmith's "hole in my soul" #sorrywomen

shadows: poems that come off as gray to me. Yeah i dont know either man they just do its a very specific vibe and there is no other way to describe it than gray

ritualism: the color white being used in a holy, ritualistic context (or at least a context i perceive as holy)

74: my yamaha tx750 was created in 1974, which is a year that is important to me for no other reason than that (if u go into the tag its pretty obvious and if its not.... well im not telling)

p: im not sayinggggg. But here you will find white horses and things about grief

are your ears on?: writing, particularly having to do with the idea of a grand overarching narrative that tropes are forcefully enacted within

SPECIFIC MEDIA:

it's impossible to compete with the dead: my tag for all things sharp objects-related. Tag is a quote from the book

spn: that would be the 2005 cw show supernatural. #Sorry

mcr: that would be the post-hardcore band my chemical romance. #Sorryyyyyyy

shattered teacup: tag for the 2013 tv show hannibal and no other version of thomas harris's work-- silence of the lambs and whatnot can be found in the "play pause rewind" tag

little nudie turtles: tag for the 2018-2023 hbo show succession. Quote by tom (it's literally tom).

and the angels wouldn't help you: tag for david lynch's twin peaks, both the show(s) and the film

time is a flat circle: tag for season one of true detective... haven't watched the other seasons of this show because honestly nothing can beat that. So its only for season one

[keyofjetwolf]

Yellowjackets S01E06 spoilers under the cut NOT FOR PRYING HOLLIGAY EYES

"Jackie just adored rabbits."

OH MY FUCKING GOD AND AN AVALANCHE OF THOUGHTS JUST CRASHED DOWN ON ME AND I'M TAKING YOU ALL WITH ME

I'd filed away that Shauna has A THING about rabbits. We've seen her kill two, going so far as to expertly skin, disembowel, butcher, and then make a chili out of the thing to serve to her family. (Who loved it when they had no idea what was in it, hello I see you clear parallel.)

Yet we've ALSO seen that Shauna has bunny shit absolutely everywhere, all these tchotchkes that didn't seem to fit. Not only in what we're gathering about her general lifestyle, but in her apparent relationship to rabbits. She hates them! Murderously! But she also cherishes them? Or at least the still, silent representations of them that can't eat her garden.

Couldn't make sense of it, but it was too obviously placed as a contradiction to not make note of it, so note it I did and moved on.

UNTIL NOW AND HOLY SHIT

JACKIE IS THE RABBIT. I've been wondering what happened to her (as I have everyone we haven't also seen in the 2021 timeline), but I feel SUPER confident now saying she's dead dead so fucking dead.

Shauna loves her. They've been best friends for how long?

Shauna is IN love with her. That much was obvious immediately, and is I believe 10000% the reason she hooked up with and later married Jeff. (Can't have the girl? Have the guy who can.)

Shauna hates her. This part I'm shakiest on right now, but if Jackie is the rabbit (JACKIE IS ABSOLUTELY THE RABBIT), then I know it's true. Maybe Shauna hates her because Jackie can't/won't/doesn't return her feelings. Maybe Jackie's kind of selfish and terrible sometimes. Shauna was going to (or was at least wrestling with) passing up Brown to go to whatever shitbag local university Jackie was going to, and was that because Shauna wanted to, or was pressured to, or felt obligated to, or...?

I don't know that piece yet, but I DO know people are complex and can be many things at once, and so even without filling in the details, I have zero problem accepting that Shauna loved and hated Jackie all at the same time.

Bringing us to today. Shauna cherishes the idea of the rabbit, enshrines it almost, while Shauna also kills and eats the rabbit.

So if Jackie is the rabbit (AND JACKIE IS WITHOUT A DOUBT THE FUCKING RABBIT), oh that bitch became dinner and I'd lay two shiny quarters that Shauna is the one who took the first bite.

Because how else to love Jackie, to take her in so completely, than literally consume her?

THAT IS FUCKED MY FRIENDS

THAT IS FUCKED UP AND I'M INTO IT

#oh shit oh shit #and a couple episodes ago where jackie DIRECTLY SAYS she's not cut out for all this #this isn't her world #the others can adapt and do what it takes to survive #jackie can't #the poison ivy #that means something too #not getting it right now but that's also symbolic of something filing that away too #anyway yes jackie basically ANNOUNCES IT THERE that she's doomed #oh man and what did the head coach say about her being team leader aahhh #gotta rewatch brb #'when things get tough out there those girls are gonna need someone to guide them' #GUIDE #not lead #because jackie isn't a natural leader it's painful whenever she tries #the leader is clearly taissa #guide though #influencer as he also says #fuck me yeah it's all right there #a guide shows the way #girl you were dinner before you ever set foot on that plane #ANYWAY SORRY I'M HAVING A LOT OF THOUGHTS IN THIS CHILIS TONIGHT

Edited to add: "JACK RABBIT" IT'S ALL JUST SITTING RIGHT THERE FUCK YOU GOODBYE

[breakerwhiskey]

057 - FIFTY-SEVEN

Please visit breakerwhiskey.com for more information or to send a message to Whiskey's radio. Breaker Whiskey is an Atypical Artists production created by Lauren Shippen. If you'd like to support the show, please visit patreon.com/breakerwhiskey.

Transcript under the cut. For more episodes, click here.

[click, static]

Another gas station today, right over the border in Wyoming and they had this tiny little buffalo toy at the counter. He’s sitting on my dashboard now, watching over the road as I drive.

Maybe there’s something perversely ironic about that. The image of a buffalo being forced to watch a paved road pass underneath him when the road’s very existence is part of the reason that he and all of his brethren got decimated in the first place.

Maybe I’m overthinking it. [click, static]

My dad used to get me all these things like this from truck stops along his route, stuff like this little buffalo. Some kind of tchotchke—a keychain, a pen, a magnet. Anything that had the name of a city or the image of a monument on it. I loved all of those souvenirs, would keep them in a row on top of my dresser like some kind of shrine to the great American road trip.

[click, static]

Every trip he always made he brought one of those things back for me. And when he could—when the season was right—he would bring back a jar of homemade jam for my mom. He would never buy it at a store or anything like that—only ever from a roadside stand. So it had to be summer, usually, and he had to happen to pass one. And then...well, I think he’d probably spend twenty minutes picking out exactly which jar he wanted to get her, because he’d only ever bring one back, but he’d tell us all about the farmer who sold it to him and the other types they had.

You know, he’d talk to the farmer for a while, ask them what their speciality was, if there was a jam they liked best, or if they had any fruit

varieties that they’d come up with themselves. The weirder, the better. The more regional, the better. Any time dad came home with a jar of jam it was like a little holiday—we’d spread it over toast for dessert or sometimes we’d just eat it straight from the jar.

[click, static]

God, it all sounds so provincial. Not that that’s...bad, but you’d think I’d grown up at the turn of the century, not the forties. But that was the thing about rural living, I guess. And I think—well, during the war, my parents got used to austerity. So even when it was all over and my dad went back to driving his usual route and not delivering supplies for the military, there was still the sense that every bit of sugar or fresh fruit was a luxury.

Maybe that’s why I’ve never really needed very much to be content. [click, static]

My mom loved jam—would make it herself every late spring from the big blackberry bushes we had behind our house. She’d experiment with different kinds too—the classic sweet blackberry jam, savory, spicy blackberry jams that we’d put on toast with cheese, blackberry jam mixed with vinegar in one of her few completely failed attempts. From late May through all of June, our house would smell like blackberries.

I don’t really like blackberries anymore. Just the smell of them makes something inside me ache. Harry...

[click, static]

Harry stopped growing them in our garden after the first year. I think, somehow, she knew.

[click, static]

[glitterdustcyclops]

tagged by @lookingforsomematches

Alias/name : choco

Birthday : july 8th

Zodiac : cancer sun, pisces moon, leo rising

Height : 5'7"ish

Hobbies : i have adhd literally everything is my hobby but anyway writing, doodlin frogs, various crafts, occasionally painting, sometimes graphic design, legos, playing video games, journaling/calligraphy, collecting tiny plastic nonsense and other various trinkets and tchotchkes, oh god there's so many more help

Favorite color : iridescent, but the actual-color answer is mint green + pink

Favorite book : ohhhhh god. usually i say it's the hitchhiker's guide to the galaxy which did a lot to inform my sense of humor and really inspired me as a writer, but i also can't remember half of it now and never got further than i think part of the restaurant at the end of the universe. one day i'll go back and re-read the whole series. probably. maybe.

Last song : home - kimbra (kimbra is so goooood guys if you've never listened to her stuff outside of somebody that i used to know check her out!!!)

Last Movie / Show : my dad just finished watching the charmed reboot and i kinda got into it right at the last season, and now it's over, and i'm a lil sad about it

Recent read : some random kindle unlimited gay romance novel about a pretty albino boy who gets saved by evil human traffickers by a bunch of hot mercenary-type dudes. it wasn't great but the sex scenes were hot and i love any kind of polyamory rep, even in trashy tropey romance novels.

Inspiration : right now i have my coffee-scented candle burning and that is sparking some serious cozy-fall-vibes inspo, so imagine that and enjoy

Fun fact : i can't whistle! i can play the flute and i can actually blow across pretty much any bottle and make a tone but i just can't get my mouth to whistle. nor can i blow bubblegum bubbles, and i suspect the two are related.

Story behind URL : one of my friends in college suggested it as a pesterchum handle that seemed to fit my vibe and i took it and ran with it. i can't remember if the cyclops OC i designed came first or after, but basically it seemed like fate.

What’s the colour palette of your name?

did both choco & my real name and gonna be honest i'm never much a fan of muted earthy tones like this but some of the ones in my real name palette are speaking to me, esp. that dark navy + orange + pale sagey green combo happening over in the right corner there

anyway i guess i'll tag @teddytoroa @solobagginses @musicismymoirail and anyone else who wants to do it, as always tag me so i can see your answers!!!!!

[wellnesscard]

i love thrift stores so much thank god for them i truly would have nothing to wear if not for these, and as addition so many of thousands of random vinyl and tchotchkes to adorn my place meaninglessly and with love. like an animal - i live and i die. i collect and cherish certain roots not for their properties but the shape they fit into my hand with. utterly meaningless junk unless you jive with the fengshui emanating from such. you cannot find such gravity from something not recycled.

[sanguineousinkblot]

list 5 things that make you happy, then put this in the ask box of the last 10 people who reblogged something from you! get to know your mutuals and followers. ꨄ

1) Trinkets. Gimme some fun little antique tchotchkes, a weird rock, some fiddly little thing a friend made, and let me have them about me! They could be on display or tucked in a secret and shadowed corner of a shelf, but whenever I see one of my *things* it gives me joy.

2) Old shit. This is in line with number one, but extends to things like furniture and typewriters if/when I can find them affordably. The key is to wait and be patient. I literally had a gently used chair/ottoman I couldn't afford suddenly get listed as "free to anyone who will just come get it and I was THERE. I'm happy that I get to give new life to something old, and that my possessions have stories behind them.

3) The beach. I'm talking like, a craggy and stony beach. I am a child of mountains and deserts, and this will likely be where I find my home, but I gotta tell you, a beach like this gives me SUCH pure and unmitigated joy. The majesty of the ocean, the critters and things that live around there, the sound of waves crashing against rocks... Phenomenal. And don't even get me started on beachcombing. Suffice it to say, I'd spend SO much of my time picking things like sea glass off the beach if I could.

4) My nest. I love an adventure, but nothing beats being able to come back home afterwards and be in your own lovely space. I've worked hard to make my space feel good, and by the gods I like spending time amongst the cool shit I have. Also home is where the books and tea and food are.

5) Stories. The best things in this world have a tale behind them, as do the best people, and I adore when I get to learn a new bit of information and tuck it into the cabinets of "lore" that exist in my brain.

[stickysad]

It’s April 8th, you would have turned twenty nine. I started a new job and I find myself talking about you. I haven't figured out how to navigate saying the words "she died" to strangers, so at the office building on Drummond Road you're still alive. I choose this weird lie over the inevitable feeling that I've said too much once it’s spoken aloud, like I've imposed a reminder that humanity can be bleak under the lunch room’s shitty fluorescent lighting. People don't like confronting life's devastations while wearing business casual. I know the societal rules of polite conversation enough to keep topics low stakes, like how expensive yogurt is these days or the morning traffic on the boulevard. Somehow, the I.T. guy’s shockingly bad political takes are fair play, but we steer clear of death and how it changes us. Despite knowing the etiquette of unfeeling small talk I can’t stop myself from bringing you up so…you're alive and well in this unsuspecting corner of Northeast Philly. America's purgatory of strip malls and industrial complexes if you’re unfamiliar. Look, it was the best I could do. Handle your own resurrection next time, kid. I'm moving soon and it will be yet another apartment you haven't stepped foot in. I’m running out of where to feel you, of people who knew you. The only place left is the house on Allentown and god knows you wouldn't go back there in the flesh let alone in spirit. God knows I don't. I still go into the restaurant to try to catch even a glimmer of you, but the employees have changed and the chairs are different and I heard they painted over our scribbles on the walls in the back. Instead, I stick to my cliches and pretend you're nature and lightning and every tchotchke of a carousel at the thrift store. I visit you through every phase of the moon. I stare up at the sky, slow blinks like I give to the cat, praying you get the message. Or I’ll whisper to you alone in my room and trick myself into believing any sensation in my body must be confirmation you can hear me. As if you respond as a tickle in my fingertips. I'm starting to grasp that missing you is endless, but in that way so is loving you. I'll forever love you, talk about you, think of you. Every day that I miss you makes you infinite. I’ll keep writing about you; heartbroken in run-on sentences. I won’t stop counting the carousels. I’ll take small comfort in that, that through me you still are. I guess that's all I can do, unless you change your mind on the resurrection thing - let me know.

Happy Birthday, little sister. 

[skelavender]

“I couldn’t explain it. When I saw them, I could barely pay attention to the woman we were interviewing. I just… knew I needed them.”

Mulder’s eyes snap to her, “Oh my god, Scully, did you steal these?”

read/listen to kind of perfect chapter two on ao3, or below the cut!

Nothing changes really, not yet. 

They make an appointment at the courthouse for a Wednesday afternoon, with plans to make it a late lunch break. Mulder gets the marriage license while Scully is elbow deep in an autopsy (literally) and he's bored of staring at the walls of the basement office. 

They still go on cases. Scully still shows up to the office some mornings to find a plane ticket on Mulder’s desk, and him behind it. They still say goodnight five feet apart, at the doors of adjacent motel rooms. It’s normal. Except for the fact that they’re planning an illicit wedding in the background. 

There’s a case in Pittsburgh where people feel urged to do things they only let themselves dream of. For every violent murder with a clear motive and confessed killer, there’s a happy couple walking down the street who found themselves pushed together after years of pining. 

Mulder calls it witchcraft. Scully calls it a water contaminant. It’s all very routine. 

Their investigation takes them to an antique mall outside the city, as labyrinthine as any. They wander through the precariously stacked furniture and tchotchkes, Scully running her hand over books, dishware, and photos passed down through many owners and wondering about where they’ve all been, what they’ve seen. 

Scully adores antique stores. She’s always felt a kind of love in them. The energy of so many cherished possessions in one place is the only kind of magic she’s come close to believing in. 

They’re interviewing the owner of a jewelry booth when she sees it. A tiny wood box in the glass case separating them from the witness that Scully isn’t paying nearly enough attention to. What lays in the velvet lining enraptures her, she can’t take her eyes off of it. Mulder’s touch on her lower back rouses her from her trance.

“Whaddya think, Scully?”

“Hmm?” She breaks her eyes away from the case and looks back up at him. He’s waiting for her opinion. She realizes she zoned out for most of the interview, and turns back to the woman across the glass case. “Oh, I’m so sorry. I must’ve been distracted. You have some beautiful pieces here, ma’am.”

“Ohh, shiny.” Mulder teases. Scully rolls her eyes.

“Oh, shut up Mulder.”

“Mrs. Landingham was just telling us about the vendor upstairs, who gives her the heebie geebies. He sells a bunch of dolls.”

“Well that’s not hard. Antique dolls even give me the… heebie geebies sometimes.”

Mulder laughs, and they go on with the interview. When they continue on through the antique mall, they split up, and Scully finds herself looping back around to the glass case from before. 

“How much for that?” She asks, pointing to the little box. She doesn’t even hear the price, just grabs her checkbook from her coat pocket. The woman smiles at her.

“You have someone special, dear?”

“I… it’s complicated.”

“Hmm. If you’re buying them that, it’s probably not as complicated as you think.”

Scully just hands her the check and slips the box into the inside pocket of her jacket. Mulder catches up with her a couple rows away. 

“Hey, where have you been? I thought we were looking at the third floor?”

“I was… looking for the bathroom,” She lies, “Did you find something?”

“Yeah, the booth Mrs. Landingham mentioned is, in fact, creepy as hell. I’ve never seen so many dolls in one place, Scully. And it had a vibe.”

“A vibe?”

“Yeah, a weird one.”

“Let's go check it out together.”

His hand brushes her lower back and he guides her to the stairs. 

***

They solve the case, burn the dolls. Apparently every victim of their own impulsivity had purchased one a couple days before they started acting differently. She stows the box in the glovebox of her car, and forgets about it until they’re on their way back to DC.

Mulder is, naturally, babbling. 

“Honestly, I’m surprised neither of us were affected.”

Scully tenses behind the wheel.

“Right, Scully?”

She bites her lip.

“Scully? Were you –”

“Check the glovebox.” She blurts before she can think twice about it. 

He leans forward, and pulls out the tiny box. When he glances at her, she nods, and he opens it. When he sees the contents, he lets out a little “Oh.” 

In the box, in a sea of maroon velvet, lay two nearly identical gold rings. The only difference between them is a swell and a small diamond in the center of one of the eight-pointed star engravings adorning both bands. 

She watches out of the corner of her eye as he runs a finger delicately along the engravings of the larger ring. 

“I couldn’t explain it. When I saw them, I could barely pay attention to the woman we were interviewing. I just… knew I needed them.”

Mulder’s eyes snap to her, “Oh my god, Scully, did you steal these?”

“What? No!” She looks away from the road to give him an incredulous look. “I paid for them, I just bought them impulsively. I’m sorry, I should’ve asked you first. We haven’t talked about rings, and it’s probably a bad idea to wear them to work so there isn’t much of a point–”

“No they’re… they’re kind of perfect, Scully. Thank you.” He sounds almost breathless. 

“Of course. I’m… I’m glad you like them.”

Mulder manages to shut up for a good chunk of their drive. 

***

Mulder slaps his pen on the desk in frustration. Damn expense reports. He pinches the bridge of his nose in an attempt to make his growing headache subside. 

Scully looks up at him over her glasses. Takes him in. She closes the file open in front of her and stands. “C’mon, Mulder. Let’s take a long lunch, I think we both need a break.”

“You don’t have to tell me twice.” They both don their jackets, Scully grabs her purse, and they whisk out of the building. 

Mulder really, really should have asked where they were going before agreeing. 

He finds himself in the boyfriend chair of a nearby Macy’s, watching Scully try on a series of dresses and suits. They aren't things he’s used to seeing her in. It’s not much more exciting to him than the expense reports, though it is less headache-inducing. So he sits and watches, leaned forward with his elbows on his knees, fingers fiddling with the hair tie still wrapped around his left ring finger. 

People have asked about the hair tie, of course. Sometimes it’s on his finger, sometimes just on his wrist. He tells them that Scully’s break sometimes, and it’s best to have a backup. Like he’s just that good of a partner, and the hair tie isn’t one of his most cherished possessions.

Breaking his train of thought, Scully steps out of the stall in what she would describe as an ivory cocktail dress with an eggshell lace overlay, and what Mulder would call a white dress. 

“It’s not very you.” He says. She agrees, and steps back into the stall to try on the next one.

“What are we even doing here, Scully?”

“I need to find something for the wedding, and I don't have time to go to a traditional bridal salon.”

She steps out in a white pantsuit, shoulder pads and all. 

Mulder slaps a hand over his eyes. “What the hell, Scully! Are you crazy? I can’t see you in your wedding dress before the wedding, that’s bad luck.”

“In our sham marriage?” She laughs, “C’mon Mulder, you don’t actually believe that, do you?”

“Do I believe in a superstition? Who do you think you’re talking to?”

“That’s a good point.” She approaches him and peels his hand off his eyes anyway. “Please, Mulder. I don’t want to do this by myself, and I just can’t ask Skinner.” His eyes go directly to hers, crinkled at the corners from her humored smile, then drift downwards to take in her outfit.

“Not that one,” he says, “It looks too much like something you’d wear to work.”

She huffs a laugh and retreats to change again. When she steps out, she’s in a slip dress with silver embroidered flowers. 

“No.” He says immediately.

“No? So now you’re a stylist?”

“The rings are gold and that one has silver. I might know nothing about fashion, but I know that that’s against the rules.”

“Good eye, Mulder.” She retreats again.

“So why're you taking me wedding dress shopping, anyway? Why not your girlfriends, or your mom?”

“No one knows we're getting married. I haven’t even told my mom, she’d insist we make it into a whole event, and wouldn't keep it quiet. And even if people did know, I spend all my time on cases with you, so I'm somewhat lacking in the girlfriends department, or at least ones I’m close enough with to invite wedding shopping.” she pauses. “I always thought I'd do it with Melissa, but that’s… not an option”

“I'm so sorry, Scully. She should be here.”

“I know. “

She steps out in another dress. They agree that it’s too lacy. Back to the stall.

“I'd probably ask you to come shopping even if I was marrying someone else.” Something like distaste blooms in his chest at the thought. He ignores it.

“Really? I mean, you said it yourself, I'm not exactly fashion forward.”

“Of course. You're my best friend. I value your opinion.”

She steps out in another dress, this one simple, tight, and silky, with thin straps and a deep back. She does a little twirl. She does not giggle. 

She sees Mulder’s eyebrows shoot up as his mouth opens. If he were in a cartoon, Scully is sure there would be a bubble with AWOOGA just above his face. 

“Holy shit, Scully.” He stands and approaches her. Her face is so bright, so open. 

“Yeah?”

“You look amazing.”

“Thank you.” She goes in for a hug, which Mulder accepts. He buries his face in her hair.

“You’re my best friend too, Scully.” She just hugs him tighter. “But if this turns out to be a disaster, I’m totally blaming you for making me see the dress before the big day.”

She laughs and they separate, but only by a few inches. His hands move to her neck, his thumbs framing her face.

“So, that’s the one?”

She smiles up at him and nods. “Yeah. It is.”

The smile they share is softer than any other.

She goes to change back into her work clothes, and he offers to bring the car around. Before leaving the store, he manages to hunt down the dress on the rack and stop at the cashier to leave a check with them, telling the girl behind the counter that it was for the suit-clad redhead about to exit the dressing rooms. 

“You didn’t have to pay for the dress, Mulder.” She says as she climbs into the car, “But thank you.”

“You paid for the rings,” He reasons, “it’s only fair.”

“Still. I appreciate it.”

“You’re welcome.”

The outing takes longer than their lunch hour, but no one seems to notice. 

<- previous chapter next chapter ->

[walkingshcdow]

"You didn't think I forgot did you?" Luka says as teasing warmth resounds in his voice before presenting the bouquet of flowers to the only real maternal figure he wanted to claim as his. His height had taken a rise once more and so as he pulled Masha into a hug did he lean down slightly to press a kiss to her cheek. "Happy mother's day. And shh, don't tell Gleb I said you're my favorite parent."

Luka was so strong and tall now. She remembered when he'd come to the Volya, scrappy and skinny and full of fire. She'd told Gleb to give him time. How much? Well, how long had it been? He was the kind of young man any mother would be proud of, even one really just barely old enough to be his mother, who should have been a sister figure instead. Especially that kind. Especially Masha. God, she was proud of her boy. She kissed him back, laughing and caressing his face.

"Oh, sunshine, you know I would never tell him," she said. "He has to know by now that there's something special about the love between a mother and her son."

She studied the flowers, grinning. They were beautiful and she wondered if he had snagged them in a market at their last planetary visit or if the greenhouses had produced such wonderful blooms. They would brighten her office - the little corner of the laboratory and hospital, which was already filled with paper photographs of her loved ones and other outdated tchotchkes from her travels. She had a vase somewhere. As she looked for it, she effused about the flowers, how pretty they were, and how thoughtful the gift was. At last, she found a place to put them in some water.

"I can take some time off to make us brunch," she said. "My boy needs a good breakfast and I need some quality time with you."

[mykashg]

HACKS APPRECIATION WEEK — Day 5: Favourite Object or Location The Salt & Pepper Shakers aka the Jean Valjean tchotchke or whatever. 

I can’t say it much better then Hannah herself did in this interview:

I'm having moments like I'm waking up in the middle of the night and being like, "Are the pepper shakers Ava and Deborah?!" And they're like, "Yes." I texted Paul, Lucia and Jen they're like, yeah. There are so many things that I'm looking back on and just being like "Oh my God, the dynamics, the layers." It totally, I was like, "Oh, this is a literal rom-com."

We are absolutely spoiled for impeccable set design and props and colours and lighting and like the one percenters that go into making a good piece of media great. Into making it art and in all of that I think that the pepper shakers are somehow overlooked. But right there, in episode two, when we’ve only really gotten so see Deborah bristle at the idea of having anyone help her with her comedy, they make it crystal clear that this is a woman who is longing for partnership, companionship, a relationship of equals. Of mutual respect and tenderness and laughter and love. For someone that makes her better. 

She collects pairs, for fucks sake! 

And Ava gets her the pepper shaker, and earns some respect for not quitting when the going got tough, and presents herself as a worthy contender for Deborah’s time and her generosity and her love. 

[school-of-roses]

Discrete Spirit Work!

╔✩❖✩❉══❉❖❉══❉❉══❉❖❉══❉✩❖✩╗ Part of our series "In the [Broom] Closet" Month! ╚✩❖✩❉══❉❖❉══❉❉══❉❖❉══❉✩❖✩╝

Want to work with something and still be in the “Broom Closet”?  Live with parents who are less than accepting of your practice for any number of reasons under the sun?  Otherwise don’t want people to know that you practice?  Want to hide spiritwork in plain sight?  This might be useful for you!

Discrete Altars

One of the most intimate parts of a person’s practice, especially one’s spiritual practice, can be having their own altar. There are a few ways I’m aware of to make ones that don’t draw too much attention. One way to make a discrete altar can be to have it made out to be a tchotchkes/knick-knacks shelf or place to keep decorations.  Lots of people do this without thinking about it, they’ll have photos of loved ones, objects they enjoy, and any number of objects they think are important in one place in their home.  The difference between this and an altar is close to none.  Another way to go about it is to have it inside of a cabinet or drawer.  I did this one myself for a long time.  One of the cabinets in my room had a shelf reserved for tools and witchcraft related objects.  When someone was coming over I would simply shut the door and they would be none the wiser.

Money Bowls, Candy Bowls

Growing up my family always had a little bowl that they would drop loose change, found keys, or other small things from around the house into.  If you want to leave offerings to a spirit or god in this manner you can pretty openly leave coins in a bowl for them.  Food and otherwise left in the same spot can have a similar effect, but it is still a good idea to watch out for ants and change it out often.  Hard candies can be a really good one for this because they last and are pretty common to be left on your desk or out in the open, just make sure the spirit you’re working with is okay with the occasional person partaking of them.

Candles

Never doubt the power of color magic or a good candle.  If you want to work with spirits, bringing out a candle and envolking them can be a powerful way to connect.  When you want to connect you can light the designated candle and when you want to stop communing you can politely say goodbye, snuff the candle (some say blowing a candle out is an insult), and put it either away or in a place where it looks completely innocuous.

Sigils and Stitchwork

From things like embroidering the names or sigils of spirits into the lining of clothing to keeping something that reminds you of them in your pocket there are a number of ways to keep them close to you in your day to day life without catching flack in the streets. Other times designs can be hidden in wider, more artistic applications.  Hiding sigils in line work or even making sigils look more like abstract designs can be easy ways to have a being you want to work with on “speed dial” so to speak when you want to call to them for protection, channel them, or just simply have a conversation while you’re working on building a stronger connection between yourself and the being.

Spirit Journals

Journals are a good way to record communications with spirits.  Most writings will not be investigated beyond a cursory glance, and anyone who would inquire as to the content will hardly not buy that it’s some work of fiction.  If you live somewhere where magical fiction would cause you to be in danger or otherwise have someone take issue with your work, journals can be easily stashed, hidden among school supplies, or with a little more challenge, written in ways that don’t make the contents obvious.

Disguising as Other Practices, Nodding to History

Taking a page out of the book of other practices, over the centuries there were numerous examples of practices being disguised as Christian practices to the point where certain gods or goddesses were turned into saints and worshiped in that form in order to hide that pagan practices were involved.  In this way those that are in Christian or similar households might find it an easy path to hiding their practice.  Those that are in more secular environments might find it easier to disguise their practices as expressions of creativity in fiction, art, or fashion.

Boundaries and Being Quiet With talking to and working with various types of spirits, from the smallest to the grandest deity, there will probably come a time when you can feel what they are intending to convey to you without any tools, spaces, or otherwise.  Whether you’re skilled or not, you most likely can send out messages to spirits without speaking out loud.  Though it can be much harder to know what they are saying back if the connection is not established.  Establishing the connection can be harder without items, something to latch onto, or something that reminds you of them.  However, if you can get to the point where connections are easily established, you won’t need any of the tools or theatrics.

If you are at this point where the tools are not there to be a help to you, but are still something the spirit you’re working with wants, do what makes you feel safe.  If you feel safer not having things out in the open or on you, make that decision.  If the spirit doesn’t put your safety and comfort above decorations and dedications; it might be best to not work with them.  Establish that boundary.

[tryingmybestpls]

As The World Caves In

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Stark!Fem!Reader

Summary: Steve deals with the loss of his wife after the Snap.

Rating: R?

Word Count: 3.3k

Warnings: Grief, depression, feelings of loneliness, death, graphic depiction of a death

A/N: hi yes I wanted to get this out before TFATWS got out. I have never liked the ending Steve got in Endgame, so I wanted to write a new one for him!

Steve would like to say that he lost his wife like everyone else did that day.

He would love to say that she turned into ash like the rest of his teammates. He would love to say that they had some tear-filled goodbye before she turned into nothing. He would love to have that hope that might be able to come back.

But he can't.

Because she actually died that day in Wakanda. Right before his eyes.

It had happened after Thanos had tossed Steve aside. Y/N had charged at the Titan, angry at the purple being for hurting her husband. He caught her in mid-air, his golden gauntlet shimmering in the sunlight as it wrapped tightly around her throat. Steve had scrambled to stand up, his eyes on her.

Y/N coughed and sputtered, her face turning colors as she kicked, her fingers trying to pry the large gold covered fingers off of her throat. And while it felt like hours for Steve, it had only been seconds. Seconds. Seconds he had held her in their air, seconds she had suffered as the Titan cut off her oxygen. Thanos had smirked before tightening his grip, a sickening crack filling the air. Steve couldn't breathe as her body was tossed towards him. It seemed to move in slow motion, bouncing when it hit the ground.

When her body finally came to a stop in front of him, her head lolling to the side as the cloud of dust settled. Steve still had hope somehow. He prayed to the Lord above as he looked at her, hoping that she was somehow still alive. Blood vessels had burst in her eyes and blood trickled out of her mouth. There was a darkening bruise on her throat, her neck was bent at an unnatural angle. Steve had been unable to move, unable to breathe. Within an instant, she was gone. His wife, the love of his life, ripped away from him in mere seconds.

And then his friends and teammates turned into ash all around him.

The worst moment of his life was when he watched his wife die right in front of him. The second worst is having to tell her brother that she was dead.

After Tony had come down the ramp of the ship, Steve had ran over to help him down that last view steps and over to Pepper. Stark told Steve that Peter was gone and in that moment of silence that followed, Tony's eyes scanned the small group of survivors for his adopted sister. Tears sprung up in the man's eyes as he looked back at Steve. The Captain's throat constricts with emotion, tears brimming in his eyes as he just nods, unable to get the words out. Pepper ran up in that moment, wrapping her arms around Tony just as tears rolled down his face.

Y/N is the only one they actually bury. Her funeral is a quiet affair, with only the remaining members of their team and Pepper in attendance. The couple had never talked about what might happen or what they would want if either of them died. Tony tells him that she would want to be buried next to their parents, so she is. He makes sure his baby sister has the best coffin money can buy, the best headstone-everything. Her funeral is the last time Steve and Tony talk to each other.

Steve gets an apartment she would have loved. It's right around the corner from the restaurant where they had their first date and a few streets away from the cemetery. There was those big windows that Y/N had always expressed fondness over. The apartment also had built in shelves that lined one wall of the living room area, which had been another selling point for him. One day Steve hoped that he would be able to fill them with her many books and tchotchkes, but now they stood empty, the shelves gathering dust. Her collection of novelty mugs weren't in the cabinets, no they were still wrapped up in newspapers within one of the many boxes. He had planned on unpacking all of the things that had once filled their shared room at the compound, but the boxes stay in the second bedroom, all piled up in the middle of the room. He couldn't find it in himself to go through all of her old things, didn't want to be bombarded with emotions and memories.

That first year is the hardest. Learning to live without her tears him to shreds. Steve hardly sleeps, hardly eats. He spends a lot of his time alone, dwelling over what he could've done differently. Natasha tries to reach out to him, but Steve distances himself. He tells himself that he needs to do this alone, needs to try to get through it by himself. Y/N always feels like she's just out of his grasp and he prays and begs to have her back with him. His prayers go unanswered.

Natasha appears outside his door on the one year anniversary of Thanos's snap and Y/N's death, holding a bottle of vodka in one hand and Asgardian mead in the other. They sit together in the kitchen and drink as vigils and memorials take place around the world. For the first time, Steve talks about how much he misses his wife. The two heroes talk all night about each person they missed, both of them wondering aloud how were they supposed to live without them.

By the end of the second year, Steve is getting used to living without her. He hates it. He hates how much that ache in his chest has lessened. He hates that he can see a picture of her without a lump forming in his throat. Steve is able to talk about her more and starts a grief support group. Sure he sometimes wakes up and hopes she's there, but that's getting less and less frequent. Steve's afraid that his memories of her are going to slip away from him, terrified of forgetting her.

So he starts to draw her. He's desperate to hold onto every memory of her, so he fills up page after page, sketchbook after sketchbook of nothing but Y/N. The drawings aren't perfect, but he is able to cement those memories in his mind. Steve wants to make sure that he can remember her face without having to study a picture. So when he remembers something about her, he puts it onto a piece of paper. Y/N on their wedding day. Y/N when they were on the run and she fell asleep in the Quinn Jet. Y/N brushing her teeth early in the morning, her silhouette lit up by the almost golden bathroom light. Y/N the first day they met.

Natasha sees them once when she stops by to see him. One of the sketchbooks is left open on the table and she sneaks a peek when Steve goes to the other room to get a sweater. There on the page in incredible detail is a sketch of her best friend with tears in her eyes, her mouth open in shock. She doesn't know that this is the face she made when she learned that Bucky had killed her parents and Steve knew. Natasha looks away, her cheeks burning. She feels like she saw something too personal, too raw, and she shuts the journal before Steve returns.

When the third, fourth, and then fifth year rolls around- well Y/N has been gone longer than they were together as a couple. Steve has gotten used to her being gone. He's able to walk past the room holding all of the boxes without stalling. It gets easier to talk about her, easier to share stories about her to his group. He still misses her, it's just easier for him to live now. His wedding band never leaves his ring finger, needing to have a part of her with him always. Steve still loves her and he doesn't think he can ever love someone as much as he loves his wife.

And then Scott Lang reappears.

Steve wants to reverse what Thanos did, wants to bring back his friends even if that means he cannot bring back his wife. That ache in is chest returns as they put together their heist plan. Steve feels like there's a ghost following him around while he's back at the compound. His shoulders feel heavy again and he tries to put on a brave face as the people around him get hopeful. He tries to be happy, knowing that he will be getting his friends back and fixing what had happened, but he can't help but be upset.

-

Steve gets to see her when they go back.

It's after he knocks out the younger version of himself. Steve is standing over himself, breathing hard, and holding Loki's scepter tightly in his hands.

"That is America's Ass." He comments, looking behind him before back down to the unconscious man. He needs to meet back up with the others so that they can-

"It definitely is." A familiar voice calls out from in front of him. Steve stills, his breath catching in his throat before he slowly lifts his head. There she is, standing before him with a smirk on her face. Y/N is dressed in her navy blue suit, her hair messy from the battle she just went through. Her face is dirty, her lip split and there is a long cut across her cheekbone. His mouth goes dry and he's suddenly tongue tied, like he was when they first met.

Steve remembers how nervous and awkward he was when they were first introduced to each other. Y/N gave him a million dollar smile and just like that, he knew he was a goner. Steve had stumbled over saying his name, which had then made her laugh-God, that laugh. That laugh had made him warm all over, made butterflies swarm around in his stomach. And in the past five years, those butterflies had been dormant and now, now they're wide awake.

"You're not my Steve." Y/N announces as she walks towards him, studying him. Steve's heart is beating fast and he wants to reach out and hold her close, wanting to tell her how much he loves her. My Steve. God, he misses her. He misses everything about her.

"How can you tell?" He asks, a tiny smile appearing on his face. Y/N chuckles, taking seeing two Steve's surprisingly well. But then again, she had just got done fighting aliens and a literal god so he supposes that things have been weirder.

"My Steve won't even look me in the eye. He blushes when I look at him. When I look at you...you just look so sad. That's how I know you're not Loki." She answers, stopping in front of him. Steve studies her face, taking in every little detail because he knows that this is the last time he'll see her.

"I-I'm that easy to read, huh?" Steve retorts and she laughs again, nodding. God, he misses that sound. He misses her so fucking much that it makes his chest ache. Y/N's smile falters as she looks at him, watching as his smile drops.

"I'm not going to pretend what is exactly going on here, okay? Obviously you are going through something and it's pretty clear you are on a some type of mission." She tells him, motioning to the scepter in his hands. Steve looks down to his hand before looking at her. He knows that she should be calling for back up because by the way people keep speaking through her comm Y/N must know that things are going south.

"I'll bring it back, I promise." Steve replies and the smile returns to her face. Y/N glances down to the unconscious man on the floor before looking at him.

"I know you will. I never saw you, new Steve. And don't worry, I'll make sure you don't choke on your tongue." She teases, gesturing to the passed out version of himself. Steve's smile returns to his face as she continues, "But I do expect some sort of explanation when you come back."

"Of course. I'll be back before you even know I was gone." Steve says, wanting to say so many other things that he knows that he just can't tell her. He opens his mouth again when her comm once again crackles to life. Y/N's eyes widen and she gestures for him to leave. Steve's mouth snaps shut and he nods, quickly walking away.

Tony would later tell Steve when they're in 1970 that he started crying when he saw his little sister.

-

When his teammates return on the battlefield, she isn't among them. He knows she won't be coming through a portal, but some part of him still holds out hope for some reason. Yet, there is no sadness inside of him on that battlefield. No, rage has pushed all of that sadness aside, filling him up completely.

When he fought against Thanos and his army, he did so with every ounce of strength in his body. Steve wanted to avenge the death of Y/N, wanted to kill Thanos for what he did to her. Steve has never felt so angry in his entire life. He wanted to be the one who ended the Titan's life. He ignored the large gash in his arm and tore through aliens.

And in the end, it's Tony who takes out Thanos. He is the one who avenges his baby sister's death, but the price he pays his high. And Steve has to watch another Stark die.

He feels so guilty that he is alive and both of the Stark siblings are gone, both of them buried side by side, right next to their parents.

There is just so much death in his life, so much damn loss. And he's tired. Steve is exhausted. He hoped that bringing back his friends and the half of the universe that had disappeared because of the Snap would make him feel better, but it hadn't. No, instead that hurt has returned with full force. His chest feels like its about to cave in on itself, like his ribs piercing his lungs and heart-God, everything seems unbearable. All he wants is for the earth to open up and swallow him whole.

And then, he is reminded that he has to return the stones.

And while every single part of the journey is noteworthy, he saves returning the scepter for last.

Y/N is sitting beside the unconscious version of himself when he returns. She turns his head to look at him, a smile on her face. For a moment, he considers staying here with her, reliving every single moment of their life and their relationship as it happens.

But he knows that he can't.

It wouldn't be right for him to stay here with her, knowing everything that he knows. Steve has had his time with her, time that he will treasure for the rest of is life. He knows that if he returns back to his timeline, there will be a lot of hurting that he will have to go through. Steve knows that it would be so much easier to stay here with Y/N, but he won't let himself do it.

So Steve explains to Y/N why he needed the scepter, leaving out her death and the death of her brother. After he finishes, she stays quiet for a moment, processing all of this new information. He just waits and sits there.

"Don't tell me what happens, please. I want the cards to fall where they may. I-I want to be surprised." Y/N tells him suddenly, glancing at the unconscious man before looking at Steve. The Captain understands exactly what she means. She must know somehow that she ends up with him, something on his face his showing his hand. Y/N had always told him that he had a shitty poker face. A smile stretches across his face, nodding. His wedding ring-hidden under his gloves-feels so much heavier, like its weighing his arm down.

A pit of dread opens up in Steve's stomach as his time draws to an end. He thanks and apologizes to Y/N as he hands over the scepter. She just smiles, telling him not to worry about it as she puts it back into its case. He must look as upset as he feels because before he leaves, Y/N wraps her arms around him. It surprises Steve, but he quickly wraps his arms back around her. Steve holds her tightly, letting his eyes shut. He knows that this will be the last time he'll ever hold her and he just savors it, wishing that it could last forever. Wishing that he could stay here forever.

But everything has to come to an end.

When he says goodbye, he knows that Y/N doesn't understand that this is him saying goodbye to her for the last time. Steve finally gets to tell her goodbye and even though he isn't able to tell Y/N how much he loves her, it's okay. It's okay because he will be able to tell her how much he loves her one day, even if that day isn't today. They'll be reunited again. He just needs to wait.

She tells him goodbye and he takes one final look at her before he returns back to his timeline, back into a world where she's gone.

That night, he returns to his empty apartment, the silence almost deafening. That hole in his chest has reopened and he is in so much pain that everything just feels numb.

He goes through the motions of getting ready for bed, washing the day's events off of him hoping that this would also wash away the numbness, trying to pretend like nothing of importance had happened hours earlier. When he crawls into the same bed he has been sleeping in for the past five years-a bed she has never touched-he realizes how empty it is without her. He can't feel her here like he can at the Compund-No, here she doesn't follow behind him. No, this is a place she has never been so she can't be here. The apartment is suddenly too big for him-everything is too big for him. It's too big and too empty and too fucking quiet-

It's like the string that was holding him together the past five years has finally snapped and he just starts crying. The Captain's body shakes with sobs as he lays in that empty room. Steve had thought he had processed her death and grieved already, but he hadn't. Until this very moment, it had never fully set in that Y/N was dead. It was never fully real that she was gone. He knew that she was, but some part of him was still holding out hope that somehow she was going to come back. If Bucky could come back, surely she could have as well. But Y/N isn't Bucky and so she never came back.

It took until today for him to fully realize that she was gone. Y/N was gone and there was nothing he can do about it. There was no stones to gather, no traveling through dimensions for him to do. Steve had to live the rest of his life without the love of his life, in a time where he'll never belong in. That small flicker of hope that had been silently living inside of him had been snuffed out, leaving an empty dark space inside of him, leaving him cold and empty.

The only hope that remained is that they would be reunited one day in death, but until then Steve would be forced to carry around his pain where ever he went.

[rdng1230]

Thanks for the tag @just-kalina these are fun questions!

favorite color: green, I just found these super luxurious looking velvet green curtains in the bargain bin at ikea. It’s giving slytherin common room meets cottage core. I also spent a lot of my childhood in the Pacific Northwest so your girl loves an evergreen forest.

Favorite song: oh hell, that’s hard to pick. My music taste is all over the map but Here are a few that I’ve always loved but have gotten back into lately: emperors new clothes - Sinead O’Connor , our lady of the underground - Amber Gray , they can’t take that away from me - Billie holiday, murder she wrote - Chaka Demus & pliers (which funny enough went viral on tiktok recently) lonely in your nightmare - Duran Duran, Americans - janelle Monae, someone great - LCD sound system

Favorite book: I always liked every day by David levithan although I haven’t read it in years and I refuse to watch the movie. I have a special place in my heart for a wrinkle in time even though I know large portions of it are just Cold War era anti communist propaganda. I also really like their eyes were watching god by Zora Neale Hurston. Also I freaking love the Percy jackson books, I don’t care that I’m in my 20’s. Also also Hell or High Water the OFMD fanfic deserves a shoutout for being 75% of my serotonin for the last month.

last sentence I wrote: hmmm Econ notes unfortunately, but creatively I started a Lucius POV fic and the last sentence was something like: “He smirked, imagining the hysterics Izzy would unleash for such an oversight”

Something odd in your house: I have this travel tchotchke from chichen itza Mexico, it’s like a porcelain jaguar head swallowing a human head and it also is a whistle where if you blow into it it sounds like a jaguar roar. It’s ridiculous and I love it. I’ve always loved history and exploring historical sites and it reminds me of one of the first times I got to explore something more than 2 or 300 years old. I’d like to think young Riley would be really proud of me for moving to a place where I could see stuff like that all the time.

Tattoo you want to get: three asterisks on my wrist representing the M*A*S*H logo. A lot of the show hasn’t aged well but for airing in the seventies it was surprisingly progressive (sticking up for a gay soldier, calling out racism and American imperialism, etc.) It’s gonna be a matching tattoo with my mom. 3 generations of my family have watched the show in good times and bad times and it’s gotten us through so much. The episode Dear Sigmund is a balm for the soul.

Place you want to travel too: Turkey and Egypt. Also England simply because I’ve lived so close to it for three years now it seems weird I haven’t been?

Last time you were hugged: about an hour ago by my girlfriend before she fell asleep. She had a really rough day today and we both needed extra hugs.

@mottlemoth @hereticalpride @mangle-my-mind go for it if you feel like it!