#haven't felt less festive than I do now though

[darklydeliciousdesires]

Thanks to everyone who sent me messages of condolence over my nan's passing, it really means a lot. I'm better than I was but still not okay, I only popped on to finish tidying up a few odds and ends, also to post the final chapter of my recent WIP. I had planned for a few Christmassy one shots, but I'm in no mood to write so sorry, those will have to be abandoned for this year.

I'm not going to be around much now for a few weeks, so Merry Christmas/Happy Holiday's to you all and see you in the New Year.

Claire xx

[covetyou]

stars and stripes

ao3 ⋆ main masterlist ⋆ series masterlist

pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader rating: Explicit (18+ only!) warnings: nipple play, novelty underwear, balls, anxiety, democracy, the pledge of allegiance, friendly brotherly contest, alcohol, prelude to oral sex (m! receiving) word count: 5k summary: Roles are reversed this Fourth of July when you surprise Joel with a little festive treat of your own.

A/N: happy 4th of July to folks in the US and happy general election day to my fellow UK pals! If you haven't exercised your right to vote yet, and you're registered, you have until 10pm BST tonight to get to your polling station - as long as you're in line by 10pm, you'll be able to vote. do dress up Joel proud, and go do a democracy.

I make absolutely no apologies for anything in this fic. not a single thing. especially not that thing. tis the season. happy ballidays, pals!

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As it turned out, Joel knew a guy who knew a guy who could fix your AC, and within two days your house was a safe haven from the burgeoning Texas summer.

Easy as that, apparently. Your desperate attempts to call around HVAC companies the week your AC busted seemed stupid now that it was all a matter of simply knowing a guy.

Not that it was all easy. Letting someone else into your house after everything that had gone on suddenly felt scary, and it took Joel promising you he'd dip from his own job for the afternoon to keep an eye on things for you to feel okay with any of it.

But, even that left an odd feeling in the pit of your stomach.

You'd told him to let himself in, though this time you'd given him a key, and that felt like something. For as many times as he'd broken in, and for as long as you'd left your house open and vulnerable - and, by extension, yourself - handing over your spare keys to Joel for the day felt more vulnerable than you'd ever felt with him wandering your house at unknown hours of the day and night.

It felt like something all over again when you handed them over to him the next week too - there was a jammed drawer he wanted to fix, and he said he could get in to see to it before work one day.

Even when you opened the door to him on the nights he didn't have Sarah - his daughter, you'd learned - it felt like something. Especially knowing that that spare key now sat attached to his own, jingling in his pocket each time he walked into your home, invited.

And the more somethings it felt like, the less you felt like figuring it out.

It continued the same way for weeks. Him moving back and forth the short distance between his home and yours, while you stayed safely cocooned in your own, cool, four walls.

Then, barely one month into this officially unofficial something that you were, it was finally time for you to make that short journey down the street to Joel's.

Being honest, the thought of it had terrified you, and you'd almost backed out multiple times.

Not because it was Joel, or Joel's house - at least, that's what you told yourself - but because a "the whole neighborhood is invited, bring snacks or beer" type of Fourth of July party wasn't the kind of way you'd envisioned your first time in Joel's home. You figured maybe it'd be dinner, or a movie, or a quick fuck against the stairs with Joel's balls trussed up in something. Normal things.

Not loud peopley things.

Still, you readjust your top once more, take the briefest of glances in the mirror, and head out the door anyway, nerves be damned. You can totally handle a Fourth of July BBQ at Joel's house.

You think you can all the way up to Joel's driveway, when the nerves come back with a vengeance and you stand there, feeling sick, listening to the sounds of people and music coming from the backyard.

You try to tell yourself it all makes sense. It's a new place, a place that should mean so much because it's his, but try as you might you can't fight back the panic rising as you think of the very many faces that are going to be in this new place too. Familiar faces, faces you'd seen most days as you went about your life down this street you called home, people you'd shared small talk with and said good morning to almost every day as you left for work.

Then there's this stupid outfit you're wearing. The you from weeks ago chose it the very same day you said yes to Joel's invitation, and the you of today didn't have the energy or inclination to think of anything else. Wear whatever, Joel had said, it's just a casual thing. So, you'd gone for casual.

Braless is casual, right?

Not that that was a specific choice, more a necessity. You'd chucked the third bra on the floor in a huff, cursing your shitty outfit choice and lack of bra to fit it, and instead decided to stick on some nipple pasties and be done with it.

All that's done now, and now here you are, still standing like an idiot in the driveway, closer to Joel's home than you have ever been, psyching yourself up to go inside.

With a deep breath of the dry Texas heat, you head for the open back gate, the soft sound of your shoes on the paving stones so loud in your ears as everything wooshes and fizzes in your head.

It's somehow both better and worse than your expectations.

You're immediately greeted by a sea of recognizable faces, the bottle of wine you forgot you were even holding whisked out of your hand and taken inside before you can even get your first round of hello's in. You don't have much of a chance to be nervous, or self conscious, or any of the things you'd worried about being in the days leading up to being here, because there's just so much of everything around you. Noises, smells, people.

Everything, except for Joel. You've not caught a single look at him since you got here - minutes ago - and you wonder if he's even here and not relaxing back at your place on the couch.

Then you see him. At least, you think it's him. His back is to you, locked into conversation so fierce he hasn't noticed the commotion about your entrance.

You think it's him, but you're also certain you don't know of anyone else who would dress head to toe in red, white, and blue candy stripes. The sight of it makes you forget your own outfit worries as a grin forms on your face, and that familiar rumbling of something in the pit of your stomach comes back all over again.

"Not eyein' the very slightly younger model, are you?" comes a gruff voice that has you twisting rapidly on the spot, the smile barely given chance to fall from your face when you spot the actual, real life Joel standing right there next to you, cold beer in hand.

In your own defence, real life Joel isn't dressed much better than the other Joel stood over the other side of the yard. He's probably dressed worse, actually. He's head to toe in stars, all the way from the novelty headband on his head to the flashing star lights clipped to his shoes. It's gaudy, and camp, and so perfectly Joel that the smile that dipped from your face for all of half a second is back, and you're grinning up at him, that feeling in your belly violently boiling away now that he's right there.

"Oh, him?" you say with a wave of your hand. "Nah. He's like a dollar store version of you."

"Really? I'll be sure to tell Tommy he's Dollar Store Joel from now on. He'll love that. Hey, Tommy!" he calls over the yard, before slipping his free hand behind your back. "C'mon. Let me introduce y'all."

He guides you over, hand never leaving the small of your back, touching you out here in front of all these people as if you are actually officially the kind of something that everyone should know about. And maybe you are.

But then, you're looking into familiar friendly eyes, so similar to the ones you've been staring into and dreaming of since Christmas, and watching this familiar strangers face light up so brightly you briefly wonder if his joy is misplaced until he's wrapping his arms around you in a tight hug.

"Shit, he weren't lying," says Tommy as he rocks on his feet with you in his arms before releasing and looking down at you. "You are real."

Before Joel can land a firm whack to Tommy's shoulder, Tommy's pulling you in for another hug, telling you how nice it is to finally meet you, because he's heard all about you, dropping in a few choice words about his asshole brother here and there as he chatters to you, and Joel, and even himself.

At some point, whether it's during the fourth hug or the eighteenth, you're not sure, Joel slips off to grab you a drink, leaving you with his bizarrely dressed brother.

"Ain't never seen him smile so much without Sarah around," he says, the moment Joel's out of earshot, giving you a nudge and another fond smile. "Y'know, I think he might like you."

"Mm, I think I might like him too."

Small talk with Tommy is easy - the man's a talker, if you ever met one. He's a charmer too, and if you met him in a bar you might think he'd be coming on to you with the way he so attentively talks to you, only directing his attention elsewhere for the briefest of moments.

"What's with the outfits?" you eventually ask, with a flick to his striped top hat. "Joel never said it was a dress up party."

"Oh it ain't, this is just a family tradition. Dad always used to dress up in dumb shit for the holidays, make us laugh, and it just sorta stuck. 'Course, added in some friendly competition over the years too, and then this," he says with a dramatic sweep down his body, "was born."

"Competition?"

"Mhm. Joel'll tell you, won't you brother?" Tommy says with a wink over your head before ducking sideways to raid the snack table.

"What am I s'posed to tell you?" he says, handing you your drink, letting his fingers linger near yours and stroke a trail of burning heat gently up your arm before falling back to his pocket.

"The competition."

"S'easy. Stars or stripes," Joel points to himself, decked out in stars and then to his brother where he stands loudly chatting to yet more guests in his candy stripes. "You gotta pick. Most votes, wins."

"I've got to pick?"

"'s the rules, darlin'."

"So you want me to pick between you, or some costumed guy I don't know - a practical stranger?" you say, with a glint in your eye, watching Joel's face drop in faux offence.

"You wouldn't."

"Don't underestimate me, Joel. I think you know exactly what I'm capable of."

Your eyes meet in a silent stalemate, the glint in your eye never leaving as Joel bites at his cheek to hold back a laugh. Tommy was right - you do like Joel, some days too much, and moments like right now, you think maybe it's reciprocated, and you like him just the right amount.

Poking him in the chest, finger pressed to the middle of one of the sea of stars decorating his body, you let yourself break first. "Stars, Joel. I pick stars."

With a roll of his eyes, and a kiss pressed lightning quick to the side of your head, Joel's hand winds back around your back.

"Thank fuck for that. Let's get you a votin' card so you can make that official."

⋆⋆⋆⋆⋆⋆⋆⋆

As the evening draws on, you think you've talked to just about everyone in your street several times over, and then some. It also turns out that Joel and Tommy take their little competition very seriously, and always have, if your neighbors are to be believed.

By the time the votes have been counted and Joel in his star spangled outfit is declared the winner, Tommy has sunk to his knees, his hat toppled off in his despair as he hangs his head in shame.

You're still listening to them bicker as you sneak off to use the bathroom, their voices only disappearing when you've slid the patio door shut and taken your first official step into Joel's house.

"The headband swung it."

"The headband is Sarah's, and your massive skull is breakin' it..."

Even through the mess of the party, you can see that this place is distinctly Joel, with hints of a 10 year old girl dotted around the place. From the pictures on the wall to the cushions on the sofa - mostly a rich navy, but one soft pink nestled in with the blue - through to small ornamental carvings on a side table and the drawings stuck on the refrigerator.

You're looking at one - not a masterpiece by any means, but very decent attempt at a bluebonnet - when the pressure inside the house changes again with the slide of the door.

It's Joel, arms laden with bottles, and the headband flopping forward pathetically on his head. "You snuck off quick," he says, dumping the bottles onto the counter. "Get lost findin' the bathroom?"

"Distracted. Never had chance to sneak around your house looking at your shit before," you quip with a smile, trying to get comfortable with the very uncomfortable thing that brought you two together in the first place.

"Then shoes off. Lemme take you upstairs, give you a little tour, and you can use the bathroom up there. Probably in a better state than the one down here now anyway."

He holds your hand in his all the way up the stairs. That something rears its head again, igniting your palm where it meets his, your brain not registering a single word he says as he points to various doors before dragging you through one, into his bedroom.

His lips are on yours immediately - or yours are on his. You can't quite work out who started it, you just know that you're a tangle as your hands roam each other, biting and licking kisses into each others mouths. His hand finds your ass, and you're moaning as he presses you forward, into him, and the soft lump in his pants. You want to grind yourself against him, but the angle isn't right, and a nagging forgotten thing is worming through your brain when Joel pushes your bodies together once more.

Oh. Right. You remember now.

"Joel - mmph - Joel," you say with urgency through his kisses. He pulls back, searching your face with panic and a pinched brow. "I really gotta pee."

With a kiss to your forehead he lets you go, pushing you toward his ensuite. When you exit a few minutes later, he's exactly where you left him, stood with his hands in his pockets, looking sheepish as he possibly ever could.

"I'm glad you came," he says, looking at you and setting that something off roaring through your body again.

"Me too. I... I've had a nice time."

"Just wanted you to know I didn't invite you here just for, y'know," he says, with a gesture to his bed. "Didn't bring you in here for it either. Just, sorta missed you. Not used to not bein' alone with you. It's weird sharin' you."

You don't want to remind him you've barely left each others sides all night. You don't want to draw too much attention to the something, just in case you scare it away.

"Damn. Got nothing for me? Nothing at all?" you joke instead.

"Got nothin'. Nothin' planned anyway," he says with a look around the room, his eyes focussing briefly on a drawer before flicking back to you.

Really, you should be leaving space between you and Joel. Space for the something to flourish, space that is just enough to not magnetize your body to his, smashing yourselves together and turning the nothing into something. What you should do doesn't have the power to stop your feet from slowly pulling you toward him again though. And it doesn't stop you from putting both your hands on his chest when you finally reach him.

"No? Got no magic tricks up your sleeve? I was hoping for a wand or a rabbit or somethin', you do look like you ran away from the circus."

"I'll have you know this shirt is the finest polyester you can find at Party City."

"Mm, sounds sweaty."

"Like you wouldn't believe."

"So you're sweaty and gross, and you have nothing to wow me with? I'm starting to wonder why you invited me." Which is a lie. You know why, and so does he, and you're glad for it, even if it still frightens you to think about it too much. You suspect he knows an awful lot more about you than you've told him. He's perceptive like that.

"Maybe I'm retractin' your invite."

"You wouldn't."

"No?"

"What if I've got a little something for you instead, am I still invited now?"

Joel's eyes light up and soften all at once, turning so bright and sparkling you think he might cry. It's not exactly that you've never done anything for him in the ways he has for you. When he mentioned his favorite snack, you got some in the house for nights you spend watching a movie before devolving into fucking on the floor. You bought new lingerie, which only ever stayed on if it was too difficult to get out of, and once or twice he'd caught you wearing the heart shaped butt plug before leaping on you and pounding you into whatever surface was nearest, thumb pressing down on the base and making you see stars.

Still, for all you had done, you never swapped positions in the little game you'd been playing with each other for over seven months. Each time, he was the one who came to you with some silly thing or trick or toy to tease you with, and each time you loved it. You hoped he would love this too.

"You do?"

"Mhm," you say as you put some distance between the two of you again. Space to breath, space to move, space to let the something calm back down into the pit of your stomach and curl in on itself like a cat settling down to sleep.

Your let your fingers glide up your body, gently pulling your skirt for a moment before they coast up your belly and reach your shirt, flirting with the hem before curling around it and tugging, letting your tits jiggle behind the fabric.

With a final soft tug, you peel the fabric up your body, the swell of your breasts spilling out the bottom of your top.

"Holy shit, baby," he says, a whisper of a moan on his lips. His eyes have been glued to you, wide and curious, ever since you suggested you may have something for him. And now, they're darting from your chest to your face then back down, taking in the sight of your covered nipples.

You had made some choices earlier today, in your nervous state. Going braless was only one of them. The pasties too, were another. And then, there was the shape. You has flowers, hearts, circles, straight tape and, finally, stars. It was a no brainer when you'd rifled through the packet for two that matched that white stars were the perfect choice for today. It'd only really occured to you when Joel had worn his own stars, that you were perhaps better matched today than you thought, that maybe you could have your own little game with him for once.

"Told you I was all in on the stars."

"Damn right you are," he says as he approaches, his hands finding their place on your waist, itching to move upward. "They don't hurt?"

"They're just pasties, Joel. They're soft. Feel."

And fuck, does he feel. His hands cup you, gently squeezing the softest part of your breast before letting his thumbs dance across where the pucker of your nipple should be. The sensation is muted, infuriatingly muffled by the feel of the pasties covering you.

"S'good?"

"Imagine I stroked your dick over your pants. It's good but it's not the same."

"Damn," he curses, thumbs still gently rubbing over your nipples, watching them slowly come to life and prickling beneath the coverings. "They come off easy?"

"Like a bandaid."

"Shit."

And you just know what he's thinking, because you're thinking it too. There's no real way you can take them off right now and let Joel have his way with your nipples like you're both desperate for, even if time and the swathe of people downstairs wasn't an issue. You have nothing else to cover up with and the soft breeze combined with the cold drinks and the age of some of the guests here means it's probably not a good idea to go without them.

That doesn't stop Joel from kissing you again though, more restrained than he has any right to be with your tits in his hands. You know from his frustrated groan when you bite at his bottom lip that he's two seconds away from telling everyone the parties over, only to come back up here and continue with a party for just two.

To your surprises, he pulls your top back down. Not before kissing one breast, then the other, then back to the first. You know he wants to sink his face into them, but he doesn't let himself, and he rises from his crouch with a groan and pulls you out of the room.

"Don't show Tommy," Joel whispers to you as you make your way back down the stairs. "He'll say the contest was rigged."

"Damn, I was so hoping to show your brother my nipples."

⋆⋆⋆⋆⋆⋆⋆⋆

Joel's eyes keep flicking to your chest for the rest of the night. More than once he drags you away inside, either upstairs or into the garage, just to ask you to show him one more time. If you weren't covered, your nipples would have been rubbed and pinched raw by his eager fingers by now, just as your lips were swollen by his eager mouth.

By the time it's all over, you're positively exhausted, propping yourself up on the arm of a chair and talking to Tommy as Joel waves off the last of the guests and closes the back gate.

You had barely left his side all night, and if anyone had anything to say about it, you hadn't heard it. Neither had Joel. And Tommy, a clever man when he wanted to be, hadn't made a single joke about it either. All in all, it was as much of a successful day than you could hope for, initial nerves aside.

Tommy, continuing to be a clever man, doesn't put up much of a fight when you offer to be the one to stay behind and help clear up. Of course, he's already gone around and collected most of the trash, and put the leftover food inside, but he relents at your insistence he head home - you do only live down the street after all.

Neither you or Joel get much further with the cleaning. Once trash bags are dumped in the garage and you've both washed up, his hands are back under your top, damp fingers cupping your breasts and pulling you back into him.

"Stay?" he asks, as if there was any other ending to this night, as if Tommy hadn't left precisely for this reason.

You barely agree by the time his mouth is latched onto your neck, drawing unrestrained moans out of you right there in the kitchen now that you're finally alone.

His hands, of course, find their way back up to your top, stroking over the edge of the pasties once more.

"You really like 'em, huh?" you ask as his thumb brushes the edge of one, starting to curl and pull the point of one of the stars.

"Like that we match. Feel like you picked 'em for me," he mumbles into your neck, releasing one breast and tucking his hand into the waistband of your skirt. "Like that I've had somethin' to think about, somethin' to play with, even with all these people here."

Fuck, if you haven't liked that too. Letting him play had been one of the highlights of your night so far. Being manhandled into the garage, giggling and pushing Joel as he clasped his hands together in a plea to please see your tits. The souvenir love bite you'd let him suck into your left breast after dragging you back upstairs for a second time. You'd spent half the night flipping between Joels hands and mouth on your tits, to being dragged back out to socialize. Your pussy had given up trying to regulate itself after the third session of Joel's teasing, and you'd spent the rest of the evening wet and waiting.

This is a fact he finds out now, as he slides his hand down over your mound to cup you over your panties. You both let out the same curse as he presses and wiggles his fingers back and forth over you, rubbing your clit over your underwear. You had hoped to peel the pasties off before you fucked him, giving him full access to your nipples for the first time tonight, but you don't think you're going to make it that far, not now his hand is pulling your panties aside, feeling for the slick wetness between your lips and dragging it up, up, up to swirl around your clit.

Not a second later you're scaling the stairs for what you know will be the final time that day, this time you dragging Joel as you both kick of your shoes and stumble up the steps. You already ache from all the standing, and if you have it your way, your legs are going to be shaking and trembling too much for the rest of the night to possibly be of use to you.

With his door pushed open, left wide now the house is empty, you pull yourself back into him, only for him to slip his still wet finger between your lips, letting you taste yourself before he captures your mouth, licking your taste from your own tongue.

Then, your hands find his chest, that ridiculous shirt, and pull at it, tugging the fabric taught to his body, eager to get it off and tumble into his sheets with him.

You were right about how sweaty he'd be under the shirt when you finally get your fingers on the buttons, working your way down until you can pull it off. He's shining underneath it, the dark hair of his body slicked down as you drag your hands up over his chest, to his shoulders and then down to his belt.

He suddenly stops you, pulling your hands away, pressing kiss after kiss to your mouth as he fumbles with the buckle. In a huff, after a few failed, distracted, attempts, he pushes you away and pulls off his belt before unzipping his pants.

Joel has barely tugged them down his legs when you're staring wide eyed, howling with laughter, staring directly at his cock. Only, this time, it stares back.

At least, the bald eagle on the front of his boxers does.

"What are those?"

"Nothin'," Joel says, covering himself and trying to tug his boxers over his erection with one hand still trying to pull off his pants. Grabbing his hands, you stop him, pleading as you tug them away from his crotch.

"Show me."

"Look, s'nothin. Just another stupid thing Tommy got me and I thought it'd be funny but..."

"Sure looks like you got somethin' there for me. All this time you were sayin nothin'. Don't tell me you're getting shy on me now. C'mon. Please."

You pout, trying desperately to get him to give in when you have an idea and you're tugging your top off over your head and throwing it to the side, brandishing your star covered nipples to him once more.

"Pretty please," you say with a small shimmy, and Joel's hand immediately falls away, coming up instead to cover his eyes with a sigh.

It's a sight to behold. Really, it is. The eagle is staring back at you once again, still bolstered by Joel's solid length and the heft of his balls behind it. What you hadn't noticed before is it's sitting on a canvas of United States flag, stars and stripes covering his thighs, his hips, his ass.

"Oh wow. Joel those are -" you cough out a laugh "- those are amazing."

He's rolling his eyes. You can hear it in his voice and see it in his posture. "Yeah, real funny, I know."

"No, I like them. Very festive. And y'know what," you say, cupping his cock right over the eagle print of his boxers as you clear your throat. "I pledge allegiance -"

"No, don't you d-"

"- to these balls -"

"Stop."

"- and the cock they sit under -"

"Oh my god," he says, fighting through a laugh, your fingers squeezing and massaging as you pledge yourself, whole heartedly, to the appendage in your hand.

" - one - uh, cock and balls? Is there even a collective word for cock and balls? - under Joel -"

"It's just gettin' worse."

"- definitely indivisible, no divisible balls here - "

"You're killin' me."

"- say it with me now - with liberty and justice for balls."

You try to keep a straight face as you finish. Really you do. But as Joel's whole body shakes and ripples, his balls jiggling in your hand as laughter wracks through him, you can't help but fall into him, letting yourself be propped up by him as you crumple in on yourself in delight.

"You callin' my balls Liberty and Justice now?" Joel finally says through a laugh.

You slide a finger up the leg of his boxers, pulling gently on them as you stare down at the flag adorning his ass and balls.

"Yep. You're Star Spangled Joel with your side kicks, Liberty and Justice."

You give his balls a little squeeze again as you name them.

"Now that you pledged your allegiance, you gonna keep yappin' or you gonna prove it?"

But it's too late, because you're already sinking to your knees, right there in his bedroom, a place you both know you're going to wake up in the morning, wrapped in each other as the sunlight peeks through the curtains.

"Just try to stop me."

next part

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[pentrologram]

What Normal People Do

John 'Soap' Mactavish and Simon 'Ghost' Riley have routines. They have also each other, the truck, the dog, and their flat. That is until the dog practically manhandles you into their life. Changes ensue. please be warned this is very self indulgent and probably not in character at all. i have never played MM2, i haven't watched a single playthrough (unless countless tiktok edits count) and I only know what I do about their characters from a lot of tumblr posts and fics on ao3. speaking of- ao3! ghost/soap/gn!reader (established ghoap)

I'll Run Away With You

Simon Riley is not known for being tender and soft-spoken- he wasn’t a lieutenant because he spoon-fed soldiers and tucked them in on cots in the middle of a war field. He earned his stay on Earth, earned his title, hell, earned the clothes on his back. God would have had his head if he hadn’t made sure the younger, more incompetent kind didn’t have to, too.

It was hard for him to find that balance between the harshness of his job and the still bad but significantly less thorny outside (or inside?) world. Sometimes, while on the field, old injuries from years past would randomly decide to rear their heads. Maybe it would be an old knife wound that felt like it was bruising all over again or his ears would ring like he was hearing gunshots in the middle of a Marks and Spencers.

He was a valuable soldier, he knew. There were bunches and gaggles of people who wanted his head mounted on a stick- too many to count, and properly address. He was only one man, though. It would make sense that after all those years, it would weigh on him.

When he was younger, newer to the military, he tried to be normal when he was off duty. What his mam would have wanted for him, had she not been a deadbeat and dead. Polo shirts that stretched around his wide frame tucked into jeans, taking care of the flat he rented somewhere in the countryside-city (it’s not really a suburb but he calls it that anyways because who cares?) and pretending to debate about vacuums and silverware. Because that’s what normal people do.

But as time went on, it got harder to separate work from his life, and he just… let it consume him. Now that same suburb-y flat is in a place more urban than sub, “prime real estate,” he overheard in a decent pub with a pint once in between missions. Rent’s gone up, that’s damn sure. He offhandedly considers buying the whole building sometimes- he’s got bloody enough money, more than enough from saving absentmindedly, as the money had nowhere notable to go- but he wouldn’t be present enough to be a landlord and that shite. The flat he tried to furnish when he was twenty-something is still furnished the same way, if not a little more touched up by Johnny and his never-ending energy, and sometimes, it feels like being in a dead person’s house. It’s lived in but in a state of perpetual disrepair, never feeling like an actual home (at least for him).

The fridge was rarely ever stocked with anything but condiments and beer during their military days- he and Johnny never really had the energy to cook, preferring to use their free time elsewhere- but the bed had a frame (better than what he can think of some of his friends, bleedin’ Johnny and bringing girls back to a mattress on the floor before he moved in with Simon) and a rug underneath it and even a potted plant on a side table that is 100% plastic. It catches the light nicely in the wee hours of the morning, though, so it’s worth dusting the thin, leathery material of the fake lily now and again.

The flat is more furnished now, now that they’re officially in retirement. Knick knacks found at thrift stores or random handouts from the festivals and fairs that they go to every season, just to feel a little human again. There are more plastic plants on the side table now and Simon even tentatively tried a spider plant six months ago. It’s still alive, flourishing even, and now Simon has a couple of gardening books. Sometimes, when neither of them can sleep, Simon reads them out loud while Johnny fiddles with some new craft. Johnny says out loud once that they should get a house, for Simon and his plants.

Johnny came home with him every time they got some leave time together. The two of them are one in the same, really, feral animals without an off switch. It makes it easy for a relationship to foster, their understanding of the other in such an intimate and vulnerable way. It lets them open up guarded and bruised hearts, letting the other shine a flashlight on them and deciding to love them anyway. It’s the same as the hopeless romantic shit that you see in movies but plays out a lot dirtier in real life- it’s all the love and passion and borderline insanity that comes with a real first love mixed with the obsession of two retired soldiers who had been in the game too long and longer still without anyone normal to add some perspective to their lives.

That’s how it’ll always be, Simon thinks to himself as he stares at Johnny, hulk of a man he is, curled around Simon like a docile little thing- he surely looks it, as he was dwarfed by the extra five inches and the fifty pounds Simon had on him. He’s asleep- man sleeps like the dead, anywhere and everywhere- mohawk unruly and sticking up every which way. Getting long, Simon thinks to himself as he runs a hand through it- slightly sweat slicked but soft from a shower that night. It’s the right on the cusp of summer, the AC working hard- in this old flat, it doesn’t work the best but gets the brunt of it done. Simon’s opened up a window, (hesitantly- but between him, Johnny, and the dog, it’s sweltering and he fears he might get heatstroke) the one closest to his reach, so that the mesh covering can ventilate the room. They’re three stories up, but neither he nor Johnny enjoy having windows open. Too many weaknesses. He takes advantage of the window, though, lighting up a cigarette with a Zippo Johnny got for him a year ago.

His life is full of opposites, he finds. Johnny tends to take up a room, but Simon moves silently, just like his callsign. Johnny sleeps like a log while Simon struggles with his insomnia (right now he hopes the cigarette will help quiet him enough for sleep).

It won’t, Simon thinks to himself as he watches the moon move through the window and sinks below where he can see and eventually, the sun makes its appearance known. He puts his cigarette out sometime between the sun bleeding to view and the first rays of dawn because time keeps on moving and then Johnny is shifting awake at 0800. Johnny blinks, eyes already bright, ready for the day. He’s always alert when he wakes up, force of habit, Simon supposes. He doesn’t sleep enough himself to be so put together when he wakes up.

Then their day goes as follows:

Johnny puts the telly and the kettle on while Simon makes them brekkie. After two cups of tea are made (one with enough creamer to strangle a cow and the other black and simple, the way God intended it, as Johnny’ll tell Simon) and toast and egg sandwiches like the ones from cafes that Johnny learned how to make on a whim are put together, they sit for a while, just enjoying their company. Johnny fiddles with something- today it’s the newspaper- and Simon reads a book, and every once and a while, there’ll be a fair advertised in the paper. The fairs have always been there, in the city, but the two of them never really had the time while in the military. Now, they have more time than they can think to do with it, and so Johnny dragging Simon to them is now a familiar routine.

“‘S strawberries thi’ year,” Johnny says out loud.

“Mm?” Simon hums, immediately knowing what Johnny is talking about.

“Shite, 't started tae days ago.” He puts the paper down and puts his hands on his knees, and Simon puts a bookmark in his book before getting up.

They work cohesively around each other while getting ready to go to the fair. Johnny searches through the walk-in closet for a shirt and Simon digs through their dresser for socks. Johnny fixes his mohawk while Simon hooks a surgical mask around his ears. Johnny laces his sneakers up and pulls Riley’s harness on and Simon pulls on a hoodie, and then the three of them are in Simon’s truck, chugging along to the Town Center, where there are tents and stalls and people with strawberry hats. They get strawberry cider, strawberry pound cake and strawberry-shaped pasta to take home and strawberry cider that the both of them conclude is just Sp

rite in a pink glass bottle. Simon has to talk Johnny down from buying a big, ugly strawberry hat for Riley and compensates with a ceramic strawberry planter. There are strawberry-printed picnic blankets spread underneath trees with strawberry lanterns connecting them, lighting up the public park as the sun dances in the sky. Simon watches idly while Riley bites at a chip Johnny offers her.

They have a moment of peace there, on the picnic blanket, before Riley loses her shit and starts pulling on her leash, her distress signal- usually for Simon, but obviously for someone else now, if the desperate way she’s struggling against her harness is anything to go by. Simon gets up begrudgingly, the metal plate in his knee protesting as he jogs to meet Riley’s speed as she practically sprints behind one of the stalls. There is you; half curled on yourself with your phone in your hands. Riley rips herself out of Simon’s hold and barrels into you, calculating her speed so she’s at a trot when she lays her weight across your lap. You blink, phone forgotten, and Simon watches, silent, as you flinch away. Riley’s nothing if not persistent though, and eventually her weight forces you to calm down. Huh. Simon thinks offhandedly. You still haven’t noticed him, big and hulking as he is, just focused on Riley’s comforting weight as you calm yourself, slow, stuttering breaths evening, phone forgotten. DPT, Simon thinks to himself. When you calm entirely, you spot Simon. Your eyes go wide and you immediately try to wiggle out from underneath Riley.

“Oh, no, I’m sorry, your dog sort of- um, trapped me here, I didn’t mean to-“

“No.” Simon says, and his gruff tone matched with his physique is enough to quiet you. “She wanted to help you. ‘S fine.” He says.

“Um,” you say. “Okay. Are you sure?” Simon just grunts in response.

"Are you okay?” He asks, his voice softening just a little.

“Oh, um. Yeah.”

Simon doesn’t believe you.

He stares down at you for a long while, and your expression gradually grows more anxious.

“I just, um- I have an, um. A thing.” You say quietly.

“Are you okay?” He asks again, giving you a chance to tell the truth, to redeem yourself. “Riley doesn’t start DPT on total strangers for no reason.” This time, Simon’s insistent, giving you no wiggle room. He stares two holes through the back of your head. You look uneasy.

“No, I’m OK. Just… got a little upset.” You say, giving him a little smile. Simon stares longer than necessary. Just as he’s about to answer, Johnny comes in running.

“Si, ‘ave found a strawberry sex stall-!“ Johnny starts before his eyes land on you. Pleasantries are exchanged before you squeak out an excuse and you make a point in scurrying out before Johnny can even start his main charming event. Johnny pouts but watches you go.

“Bonnie, that one,” he murmurs, if a little mournfully. Simon only grunts in agreement.

Later that evening, the interaction is forgotten about. Passed off as just a weird event, perhaps an endearing story to tell about Riley- (sweet girl, always so concerned for others- took off running for a stranger once, she did)- and nothing more.

That night goes as follows:

Johnny and the dog watch telly until Simon is done with dinner. They eat together, their little family, Riley eating her generic shepherd’s meal through her slow feeder, chowing loudly while Simon and Johnny talk about everything and nothing at all. Then they all sit together on the sofa to watch a random movie. It’s time for bed after, which means brushing their teeth, showering, washing hair and getting the last of Riley’s jitters out. Then the three of them settle in bed- it’s barely past 1100 before Johnny’s out like a light.

This is where the routine of retired life varies:

Sometimes Simon will sleep. Sometimes he will stay up for a night, then two, then twelve. Sometimes he’ll take the medicines he is supposed to and others he will wake with night terrors. Sometimes he’ll wake up and feel so broken he’ll wake Johnny up so that can cuddle and fall asleep together and sometimes the dog will wake Simon before an especially bad nightmare.

Yes, his life really is full of contradictions, Simon thinks. Because knows he is in love with Johnny but somehow cannot get his mind off the brief meeting he had with you. He takes after his father in more ways than one, it appears. The heart of a cheater hidden in the skin of a new mind. He and Johnny have had thirds before- but Simon’s never felt so enraptured by one before. Not so quickly, not so strongly, not so potently. He finds himself craving to know more about you, to learn everything about you- the same way he felt about Johnny when they first met. The revelation makes him stay up and smoke and watch the moon bleed to the sun, with Johnny curled to his side and Riley in their bed.

Then their day goes as follows:

Johnny puts the telly and the kettle on while Simon makes them brekkie. After two cups of tea are made and omelettes are put together, they sit for a while, just enjoying their company. Johnny fiddles with something- today it’s a new paper craft- and Simon reads a book. Sometime during that, they'll part ways. Maybe the dog needs a walk or Johnny takes a piss- it's a little like a game of wills, looking for who will tap out of just sitting there first. Today, it's Johnny. He gets up to get his laptop before settling back on the couch with the TV buzzing lowly. Johnny job hunts. Simon reads. Johnny feeds the dog. Simon ponders their pension. At some point both of their minds wander to the same topic- you.

Then their night goes as follows:

Johnny and the dog watch telly until Simon is done cooking dinner. They eat together, their little family, Riley eating her generic kibble, chewing loudly while Simon and Johnny talk about everything and nothing at all. Then they all sit together on the sofa to watch a random movie. It’s time for bed after, which means brushing their teeth, showering, washing hair and walking Riley to tire him out. Then the three of them settle in bed- it’s not even past 1100 before Johnny’s asleep.

Then the routine of retired life varies:

This night, Simon lays on his back like a log before curling into Johnny's back. He sleeps that night.

next ->

[risunsky]

2023 review

So, was it a good year ?

I think so, I've enjoyed challenging myself, I've tried Beksinski for a second time, Klimt twice, I've done a crossover hellraiser which I'm quite happy with… I made cement for the first time and it was great!

At the 2022 review I said I wanted to do more horror, so I went for gore with all my emaciated skeletons and I'm very happy with that.

September is my favorite of all.

Outside of my fanart world, my biggest freelance achievement has been completing a big comic commission on time and now that the book is out and I've had good feedback from both commissioners and readers I'm relieved and quite proud. It's been a stressful time so it's nice to see that it hasn't all been for nothing. So, even though I'll never stop considering myself as a learner and experimenting with new things, I think that this year I've finally managed to settle on a style, or a range of styles, that I like and that I think I'll stick with for a long time. I've been drawing for a very long time but this is the first year I've felt so strongly that I've found MY style. As for my universe, it seems that somewhere in the horror area of dark fantasy it is my home.

What's planned for 2024?

In terms of priorities, the gift commissions, yeah.... I'm soooo late. I've finished one, but two are still on hold, and have been for at least a year now. I'm terribly sorry about that, because I haven't been overwhelmed like that for a long time, and I intend to sort it out as soon as possible.

It should also be the year I finish the Goya remake. Ideally, I'd like to finish in February because that's my birthday month, or March because that's the anniversary of my discovery of Ghost.

For the rest, don't take it as a promise, because I tend to let myself be carried along by my desires and they are constantly changing. For example, I was planning great things with Nunussy but the poor thing was left on the side of the road. My interest in it just died. it seems that shipping characters and writing an alternative universe for them is not my thing. I have at least 3 shorts comics ideas, more or less ghost related but always mixed with something else. I really really want to work on it but it's a lot of work and this year I need money, like more than usual so I don't know... I also want to do Bloodborne fanart.

The fails

I haven't kept to my plan to draw the other characters in the Ghost lore, oopsy. I still haven't had the time to open any commissions, but last year was really special, working on a big contract that kept me busy for months and that was something new, it was stressful enough. 2024 should be different. I had to show a bit more of my traditional technique, let's say I do it with the Goya project, it's a semi-failure.

Not really a failure: I still haven't come up with a design for an official t-shirt. I think that's because I'm more of an illustrator than a designer and for a good design I need to find a special thing. It's not a big deal for me, just, if it happens it's cool, if not, well, not the end of the world.

To finish

I'd like to thank all those who follow me and who like and share my drawings, including those who remain silent in the shadows - I'm myself a lurker so I understand! Of course, a huge thank you to those who have supported me on ko-fi, it's the first time I've tried this system and I'm happy to have had some support pretty quickly!

my apologies if there are any English mistakes in this text, which is still too long

Have a great festive season!

[madisonmontgomeryimagines]

SOO need a part 2 to the brooke and madison roommate storyline 😭😭 LOOVE IT

💜

Madison's driving was somewhere between concerning and exhilarating - you never genuinely felt endangered, but you also would never take turns as fast as Madison seemed confident doing. Alone in the backseat (your idea, a proposal of fairness), Madison's perfume tickled your nose as it rose up from the jacket she insisted you wear to add more formality to your outfit for your destination. There were seconds here and there where you could almost feel the sparks of tension between the girls in the front, but there weren't any verbal barbs for you to hear, mercifully.

"Have you been to a gallery or exposition before?" Brooke's voice called your gaze to her, put your own thoughts on hold as you shook your head in response.

"Not like a formal one. I've been to a couple of museums and when I was growing up the city over did an art festival in the summers." You offered a tentative smile. "First time for everything, right?"

The engine turned off, the radio cutting as Madison opened her door. "You'll be fine," she said, though you weren't sure which one of you she was addressing.

You found yourself walking between them as you approached the neat building, and again once you had all crossed the threshold. On your right, Madison pointed out the featured photographers, who had a small throng of people around them. Most people seemed to have a glass in hand, you noted as Brooke's pinky hooked on yours to gently gravitate you towards one of the collections on display. Most of the photographs in this series were black and white, and it took less than a second to recognize the girl flirting with fire in each of them as your other date.

"Now you can see why we're here, Madison's ego is just as big as her talent." Brooke's soft voice held no malice, only amusement as she stepped up to one of the massive prints. Her fingers never came close enough to make contact, but through the air they traced the jagged line of flame your eyes were following.

"Breathtaking," you agreed softly, peeking over at the blonde who was watching you both closely, studying your reactions. A smile tugged at your lips, brushing against Madison's cheek when you found yourself kissing it.

"You haven't even seen my best work," Madison's flirtatious purr was low enough to coax a shiver down your spine and warmth to your cheeks. The chuckle she failed to hide told you she was very aware of the effect she had on you.

[old-people-like-avatar]

Netflix Avatar the Last Airbender -- S1E1: Aang Review [spoilers]

I just finished watching the first episode of Netflix's Avatar the Last Airbender. I have not read anyone else's reviews, so this is just my take. SPOILERS AHEAD.

Overall, somewhat surprisingly, I had a pretty positive reaction. I enjoyed some parts, really disliked other parts, but overall, pretty positive start.

THE GOODS

Sokka: I'll just come out and say I really enjoyed Ian Ousley's Sokka performance this episode: the way he was looking after Katara and the village, his bravery in fighting Zuko to protect Aang. The line delivery. He more than anyone else conveyed character through action (as opposed to character through clunky dialogue).

The bending/action: It all looked great! No complaints here.

Gran Gran saying the intro lines: Long ago the four nations lived in harmony! Then everything changed when the Fire Nation attacked! I was absolutely delighted at how they wove the cartoon intro lines organically into Gran Gran recounting of the 100 year war to Aang.

THE I-APPRECIATED-WHAT-THEY-WERE-DOING-BUT-NOT-SURE-THEY-PULLED-IT-OFF

Southern Air Temple: I really appreciated that this show tried to show us how alive and peaceful the air temple felt as they prepared for the comet festival before the Fire Nation burned everything to the ground. I loved seeing the room with the Yangchen statue. I loved the concept of starting off the show with Aang in his home. But I needed to see more of Aang really living in his home, of Aang having fun and being carefree, of Aang being Aang -- not just Aang floating down to the ground. The audience didn't really get to see the essence of who Aang is other than "the avatar" and "don't want the responsibility." They achieved some of what they were going for, but it could have been so much more.

THE BADS

Aang/Katara lacking connection: Sokka had a strong episode, but I did not feel much connection, if any, between Aang and Katara. I don't mean romantic connection. I mean any connection at all. We needed to see them interact more meaningfully before the Fire Nation attacked. Something felt missing (though ironically, I felt a connection between Aang and Sokka).

Terrible, clunky dialogue: They really need to learn to write better dialogue. (Didn't they learn from the movie?) Some of the lines -- even the ones meant to be emotional, like Gyatso's "I am your friend" -- came off so wooden. And not because of the acting. The Gyatso actor did an admirable job selling the lines he was given. But the problem so far is there's a little too much telling, too little showing. We needed more Gyatso airbending banana cakes or playing games with Aang, not Aang exposition-dialoguing to Appa about how he loves to eat banana cakes. And somehow, even when they showed, they still told! Why? For example, the episode did a fantastic job showing how Sokka was burdened with the responsibility of defending the village. Katara did not need to say, "I know how much responsibility this has been on you" or whatever that awful line was. Iroh's lines so far haven't really "hit" for me yet.

THE UNKNOWN

The kid actors: So far, I like all of the child actors, especially Ian Ousley's Sokka. Gordon Cormier also did a good job conveying Aang's lightness and humor. ("Sky bison!") I'm not sure yet about Katara and Zuko. Overall, I like what i see so far. But right now, I think the problem is more with the dialogue they've been given and less with the acting. But we shall see how things develop.

THE CONFUSING

Aang can fly without a glider...?

Why was Roku replaced with Kyoshi in the intro?

Onto the next one!

[risingsoleil]

It makes sense that AU Tenzin is secretly selfish; I can't blame him, though. I love that AU Lin is just as selfless as Canon Lin. Is there a specific event in the AU where Lin sacrificed herself (and survived), causing Tenzin and the kids to get really mad at her? (Sorry if you've already covered this in your fic; I haven't fully read your AUs, just the answers to these asks.)

Thank you for answering my questions and giving LinZin the happiness they deserve!

AU Tenzin knows what people will say if they knew he felt that way. But it's only human that he values his family more than the lives of strangers.

I haven't covered that, so this is a great idea to think about. I can't think of the exact details, but there might be a public event or festival that the Linzin and the kids are at. The kids are still young (no older than 10 or 11 years old at most) Either a natural disaster like an earthquake or a sinkhole suddenly showing up happens.

Tenzin is able to take the kids and bring them on Oogi. Lin goes to save anyone she can on the ground. Her kids just see her jumping close to the sinkhole and cry for her to not do it.

Lin emerges victorious and unscathed. But the family is upset with her. The kids rush to her hugging her and crying bc they genuinely thought they watched their mom jump to her death. She's holding them all and trying to comfort them.

"I'm not going anywhere. I always come home, remember?"

"You almost died, Mommy!"

Lin is happy that others are reunited with their loved ones and safe. But kneeling on the ground with her own children distraught over her own safety raises the mom guilt. Looking up at Tenzin, he's not pleased either.

That night, they all sleep in the family room. Lin does whatever the kids ask her to do so that they feel better. As soon as she feels all of them sleeping around her, now she knows it's time to face her husband. She debates whether they should have their conversation with sleeping kids sprawled over them both.

Tenzin just gives her a look.

"I know. I know. You don't have to say it."

"Because how many times have we had this conversation?"

"We're not saying anything."

"You know what I mean, Lin."

"You won't be able to stop me. It's in my nature."

"Let someone else take the fall for once. What's wrong with you being selfish and letting others take the wheel? Are we worth less than strangers? Don't our kids deserve you, alive and in good health? Don't I deserve to live this life with you by my side?"

"Stop trying to guilt me. I know how you feel, and I'm sorry that it happened this way. But it wouldn't change what I did."

"That's the problem. This hasn't changed."

[p5x-theories]

who's ur favorite confidant? (in terms of story)

Oh, good question! Before I answer, let me just start by saying I've only finished Merope, Yaoling, Motoha, Tomoko, YUI, Kayo, Kiyoshi, and Miyu, so those are the only ones I'm factoring into my answer! I don't think it's fair to judge the ones I haven't actually finished yet against the ones that I have when it comes to story, hehe.

So with that out of the way, I think Motoha, YUI, and Miyu have been my favorites in terms of story so far? I'll explain why under the cut, in case anyone wants to avoid spoilers:

Motoha's I enjoyed because I like how her character development came together over the course of it. It was fun to see her go from wanting to get back into the swing of exercising but being a bit too loose with it, to going way too far all-in in an attempt to catch up to Tamayo, to eventually remembering what she originally wanted out of exercising and letting Tamayo win. I think I also liked that it culminated in Motoha having a better grasp of what she wants/needs to focus on, and recognizing that winning or losing doesn't actually matter for a lot of battles, as long as you win the ones that really count? At least as I was playing through it, I felt it was a pretty solid storyline where the events worked well together, and culminated in something satisfying.

YUI's I really liked partially because it brought back the idea of a Confidant you don't actually meet in person for a large chunk of the storyline (like Ms. Toriumi), but in a less, well, creepy way, haha. I think they played with this concept in an interesting way- you get to meet Musubi a few times in real life and see a very different side of her, which makes her feel more fleshed out as a character, and at one point when she's too stressed by both the game and real life, she actually doesn't log on at all, leaving Wonder to tend their fields alone for a bit. I suppose you could consider that more a commentary on the mechanics/execution rather than specifically the story, but I felt like the way they incorporated the fact that she's an online friend into the story events really supported the story of the Confidant itself, if that makes sense.

And Miyu's I enjoyed honestly just because I really like some of the main elements of it, and how it ended. The fact that her parents hired a guy just to steal/break her puppets, and later pulled strings to get the Street Performers Festival canceled, helped it kind of set in just how far they were willing to go to make Miyu come back- and I think in particular the fact that they were doing all this indirectly, rather than sending people to bring her home directly, added to that, too. Throughout the story you get a clear impression of the kind of people Miyu's parents are, and exactly why she's so determined to leave and support herself alone, and it culminates in her kind of vindictively throwing that right back in the guy's face when she and Wonder catch him. And with all that established, it felt very fitting that she doesn't really forgive her parents in the end, even after their change of heart, and doesn't go back to them even when they're more willing to hear her out. Also, I kind of loved that Wonder makes it pretty blatantly obvious he's going to do something to her parents to help get them off her back, but because the Phantom Thieves aren't as well-known here so Miyu can't make the connection of exactly what he did, there's just this sort of mystery she has to sit with now about how the hell he got her parents to leave her alone, haha. I felt like there was kind of a shift in Miyu's perception of Wonder at the end, though not necessarily a bad shift.

[galaxywhump]

Stargazing

[An Immortal Among Stars Masterlist]

A new story for the Whump Girl Summer event hosted by @whumpawoman, Day 1: Environmental Whump. I probably won't be able to fill too many of the prompts because of a lack of time, but I still wanted to share at least this short piece, even though it's mostly introspection.

contents: lady whump, immortal whumpee, imagined death.

~~~

Centuries too late, people gathered to see a dying star.

The explosion had wiped out some nearby planets, but that was back when most of the universe was out of reach. Several diviners attempted to establish a link to the area, and found that among the debris that was left behind there was nothing hinting at previous life, or even at the planets being able to sustain it at all. No guilt was involved in enjoying the spectacle, and everyone treated it as such.

There were vendors, music, laughter, mouth-watering smell of food permeating the air; those were contained in a smaller area, while the rest, a huge open field, was left for the crowd to gather, to stand or to sit down, and watch the clear night sky.

"Incredible, isn't it?" Daria's eyes reflected the stars. "It happened so long ago, long before any of us were born, and we only get to see it now."

Karita nodded. She realized that the arm she'd wrapped around her partner had tensed up, and she forced herself to relax her grip, not wanting it to become painful. Her gaze stayed fixed on the burst of light.

"It's weird," she said, "that there's a whole festival around it. It feels wrong."

"I felt that way too." Daria shrugged, then reached up to hold Karita's hand and keep her arm wrapped around her shoulders. "But there had been no one and nothing there, right? So try to think of this as a… show, I suppose. Everyone treats it that way, anyway."

I could've been there, Karita thought, but didn't say it out loud, and instead nodded again, hoping that her silence would be taken as a sign of amazement.

Well, not there. She hadn't been there for this particular star's explosion, though Daria would have been surprised to learn that less time had passed between that event and Karita's birth than she would've thought.

But she could have been there to witness other stars dying. She could still experience it. She stared at the explosion in the sky until her eyes became dry and she had to blink, and she couldn't help but imagine being there.

The explosion getting closer, blinding her. The ground shattering beneath her. Dying, multiple times, coming back to life and-

She inhaled sharply and shuddered, and Daria looked at her with concern.

"Are you alright?"

"Yeah, yeah," Karita sighed, bringing her hand up to her forehead. "I think I'll go grab something warm to drink, it's… kind of chilly." At least that wasn't a lie. "Do you want anything?"

"Hmm… Spiced hot chocolate. You should try it if you haven't already, it's amazing."

Karita mirrored her smile and gave her a kiss quick enough so Daria couldn't feel the tension that filled every nerve in her body.

"I'll be right back."

Even when she stopped looking at the star, it was still on her mind, fire, burning her to death, then leaving her at the mercy of space, ice, ice and loneliness, and vast emptiness all around her that she couldn't escape.

She hugged herself as she maneuvered among the other spectators. People. There were people around her, both a risk and a soothing constant. They didn't matter to her as much as they used to, but she found their presence calming regardless. For now she wasn't alone. For now she got two cups of spiced hot chocolate, returned to Daria, and smiled when she saw the way her face lit up.

Karita sat down behind her to wrap her hands around her and bury her face in the back. She heard Daria giggle.

“Wouldn’t you rather watch? It’s a once in a lifetime experience.”

“I know,” she muttered. “I just love you so much.”

“I love you too.” She could hear a smile in Daria’s voice.

She had eternity to watch stars die, but if she didn’t change her mind on keeping her immortality a secret, she had a few more years at most to be with Daria. The choice was obvious.

Holding Daria was like holding an anchor. There were other anchors before her, there would be many more after her, but that didn’t make it any more shallow. It was like a burst of love in Karita’s life, short but intense, like an exploding star, and then it would be gone.

The hot chocolate was heavenly. The night breeze made her skin rise in goosebumps.

Her mind and heart were heavy with memories and worry, no matter how much she tried to shut them out, but she was never going to stop trying.

[personthattoleratesme]

soo, this is not the first time I'm getting into a fandom that's over a decade old (i seem to have a knack for it) and it's always so exciting, it almost makes me feel like an archaeologist or detective piecing together the history of an ancient civilization

well, okay, back on track:

after those initial videos i mostly watched their post 2019 joined content which turned out to be a great thing because a) there isn't that much of it, so it felt very approachable b) it helped immensely in getting to know their current selves (this probably sounds weird, what i mean is that they have changed over the course of the years (even beyond the obvious 'they are out and more true to themselves than ever before') and it was good to get to know the status quo before diving into the past) c) it's simply great entertainment

i then went on a Dan's Long Videos™️ spree, watched daily dystopia and phil's newer videos and finally gave into the urge to take a look at the tumblr fandom, which I'd been avoiding on purpose up until then because honestly, i was scared of what it would be like. i was quite pleasantly surprised at how chill is here (I won't lie though, there were a few things that almost activated my fight-or-flight reflex because they sounded a bit too similar to that fandom, but overall i have come to the conclusion that i do like it here).

anyways, at that point i would've felt pretty lost facing such a giant mountain of lore and videos if it wasn't for dan and phil and phannies being so goddamn nostalgic. just by hanging around here and watching their videos you get a pretty good idea of what is important, be it a rough timeline of what happened when and where or what the most iconic and best videos are.

i had so much fun going through the pinofs, the crafting channel, their more or less desastrous attempts at baking, the og google feud, random gaming channel vids from golf to the impossible quiz and i could go on, it is honestly addicting. it's also quite dangerous because there is always more to watch and i know that i have barely scratched the surface.

also, it's really interesting to go back to the first videos I've watched and to see how much my perspective and understanding of them has changed in that short amount of time

by now I've dialled down the binging a little bit and am just jumping from one recommendation to the next, but i do (possibly ignorantly) feel like i have the most important things covered and am now simply enjoying the ride.

if you have any personal favs you feel like i might not have seen yet, please do feel free to share them! :)

- a now very tired new phannie

anon you seem to have taken a pretty good approach. starting with the post-2019 joint content is definitely a lot easier than watching the mountain of joint content from before that. eventually you'll probably catch up on everything but in the meantime as long as you've got most of the important videos i think you'll be fine in the fandom.

i do think there's still some demon phannie tendencies here on tumblr (i include myself in that) but i think generally we do try to keep it respectful, and also we try to kind of keep it away from them and just have our demon discussions in our safe little pocket of the internet.

yeah you've truly come here at a great time in terms of nostalgia. i mean the roblox video alone is just pure nostalgia content and probably helped you get to know the lore of the iconic london apartment. and generally we're all just really sappy about them and their relationship so old vidoes and gifs are always circling around.

you just made me do a deep dive into all of their channels to remember what videos they even have and i think i have a good selection of recommendations in case you haven't watched them:

the photo booth challenge (dan's channel), and the wardrobe (phil's channel), both iconic fan favorites

all of the day in the life videos (manchester, london, festive, japan, australia), they're not big on vlogging so it's nice to get the occasional little slices of their domestic life

dan's internet support group series, not too big of a series but very dan

dan's diss track, also very iconic

giving the people what they want

all of the sims videos (it's a lot, i know, but it's great to watch if you're ever bored)

overcooked, they played it a couple times on live streams and there's just something about them without any editing that's very fun to watch

keep talking and nobody explodes

the top dan memes videos, great to catch up on some lore

there's a lot more probably but these are the ones i can think of right now.

there's also a lot of lore hidden in all the live things they did, which there is a lot of cause they each used to to weekly live streams, they had a weekly radio show, and then the lockdown stereo shows. i would recommend just looking up some compilations of those, they usually contain a lot of the important lore moments. the stereo shows are quite fun to listen to as podcasts, so i would recommend doing that. also because it's a lot more recent than their old live streams it's a lot more relevant.

anyway, another very long answer. if you have more things to say feel free to do so :)

[thedumestflower]

VERY SILLY HELLVA BOSS MILLIE AND STRIKER IDEA INCOMING!!!

So in my silly remake of hb, I wanted to deepen Millie's character, and vivzepop said she had "strong family connection" or whatever and that gave me an idea for her , striker, and (to a lesser extent) Sally Mae.

Okay, and hear me out on this, what if they had a sibling rivalry? Okay let me explain. If striker , millie were siblings, that could deepen their backstory and give them an interesting dynamic.

So in my re-make, its kinda scuffed and weird but basically , they're humans who did some crime shit and now are bounty hunters/hitmen for important government company people, and stolas is like the fuckn phone operater who gives them directions and shit but blitz is still calling the shots- yeah its kinda fucked. And i know vivzepop said people don't like her because she doesn't have a fucked up backstory, and that's not true , but I'm not really making her trauma free but i'd say her backstory is alot less fucked than moxxies of blitz or loonas. So , in my head, her backstory goes a lil somthin like this:

Millie's family was kinda a bounty hunting gang turned ranch when her parents grew older, and Millie was the youngest kid in the family, with sally may being the middle child, and striker being the oldest. In her life, her siblings had always overshined her. With striker getting the most attention for being the oldest and most skilled, and sally may being praised for her technique, millie felt like she needed to work twice as hard as her siblings to keep up. eventually, her hard work and training paid off , leading to her eventually being an incredibly successful bounty hunter, almost as good as her sibling , striker, who was top of the board, and number one most wanted, though was about to be overthrown. So during a scuffle where striker and millie where hunting down the same criminal , striker took advantage and millie ended up getting thrown in prision for being wanted of,,, crime, and striker getting away scott free (dont ask how idk yet). But one of the prison overseers or whatever recognized millies strength and talent, and offered her to be in the hitman bounty hunter program for big government company, she accepts and was paired up with moxxie, they fall in love, they meet blitz, the rest is history.

and now, you might be wondering , why dosent sally may do shit? well, thats because (at the time of writing) we haven't seen much of her, so i have no fucking clue what to do with her, sorry sally may fans

Anyways, on to the character dynamics. I imagine striker and millie to hate each other, but in a fun way. I imagine in harvest moon festival, millie and striker are trying to one up each other, millie competes with striker in the competition instead of moxxie, and during one of the rest periods where moxxie is patching up millie, he askes her why her and striker seem to hate eatchother but still seem to be close, millie info dumps her backstory, but she says it in kinda a playful or lighthearted tone. Like she dosnt mind it much that striker put her in jail, like its a game to them. Because it is. its basically one big ongoing game of cat and mouse to them. So yeah, they tie for first place, striker almost end games stolas , blitz catches him, millie joins the fight, big gun shooty shooty battle scene, millie is kinda beat up but okay. and at the end of the ep, before the menacing striker scene foreshadowing his return, theres a little scene of millie getting doordashed wendys to her in her house by striker wile shes recovering, moxxie askes why the fuck he would get her wendys after he tried to end gaem her, and she revals, its kinda a tradition in their family, after a big fight happens in the family, you usually do somthing nice for the other person you fought as a show of good sportsmanship, she reflects on how they thought it was dumb as kids, since they usually had to do stuff like clean each others rooms and give eatchother money, but now its just a habbit for after they kick the shit outta eatchother, they usally go to a fast food place and eat together. reminds them that theyre family.

And so in the western energy ep, i imagine it to be just millie and blitz (ill talk abt stoliz later) to be the main dudes in the ep, and striker just snatches stolas while hes taking a smoke break because he hates confrontation , windexes him, ties him to the back of his horse or whatever, stolas calls blitz, millie recognizes striker, blitz knows stolas is in danger because he remembered striker as trying to kill him and stolas, they fuckn speed and they track down striker.Wile theyre tracking him down, striker took stolas to his cabin in the middle of the redwoods, striker tied him with some rope he made himself or whatever and tied him to a tree , and so hes taunting him and stolas taunts him back but stiker laughs repiles giddily, stating somthing along the lines of "I haven't had a fun one like ya' quite' a time now', its gonna be a bummer when i cut ya throat open so ya cant talk anymore" or some shit, striker almost kills him, stella calls him and tells him not to kill the star guy, striker tries to rough him up a little more but uhoh millie and blitz are here, big car crash gun knife forest fight scene, striker gets crushed by big redwood tree and blitz goes to get stolas and also to hopital. But wile hes doing that, millie goes over to striker, kneels down, and hands him 5 dollars and a wendys coupon, when he askes why she repies "heh' did ya forget what good sportsmanship is" or smthing like that, striker askes if she can help them get the fucking tree off of him, millie says " thats a you problem" because she knows striker will find a way out with or without her help. uhh cut to blitz cradling stolas in his arms saying somthing like "please, your all i have left i cant lose anyone else again" and millies just standing there realizing she just gave her boss's possible bf killer 5 dollars and a wendys cupon blabahblah.

One last thing i would like to mention, the striker and millie sibling dynamic would be a contrast to the barbie wire and blitzo dynamic, wile barb fucking hates blitzo for fucking up her life and never wants to see him again, millie is pretty chill with striker putting her in fucking jail, thats because millie values family over everything else in her life, yeah they did something shitty , but hey, that gives her more leverage to do something shitty in return, plus, thats her brother, the guy she grew up with, the guy she beats up/gets beat up by and then gets her wendys after, thats her fucking family.

so yeah thats my silly thing

[hospitalterrorizer]

diary265

6/8-9/24

saturday - sunday

album is coming closer to being done...

worked on 5 songs today, one of them still needs work, leaving me at 4 more roughly completed and 3 more to go before this should be like, a touch closer to completion. excited about working more on the cover art. thinking about doing some extra collages for it though we'll see abt that.

throat still hurts very much. i hope it heals soon, whatever this is, it hurts to swallow right now, but speaking is okay, it's on the left side of my throat. i hope it's not like, something terribly wrong with a tonsil or something.

here's some pix i found, old photos of anime figs, i was listening to this song and the thumbnail made me want to go looking for more images like this, why, idk, some of the ones i found and am still looking for/at are old pics from some con in japan, called wonder-festival, they had people doing some cool looking garage figs as well:

here's the garage figs i really liked from wonder-festival:

plus,.,.,., check out this ggunnnn!!

this one's funny. idk what it's even from. i miss when guns in anime/games looked this bizarre. they need to do this again.

and here's some other pixx people took of their real figs:

and then here's an oddity i found, looking at a camera type used to take this pic:

which i sorted into a dif folder cuz it's a bjd, and it's a very pretty one and it's a very weird image, taken with the konica minolta dimage z1, i found this pic of flowers taken w/ that camera:

i like how fried and weird its color space seems to be.

and then this one:

i really want to figure out what she is from, sometimes i feel like that, whatever that is, a chest wound and thin, staring out at... idk. going #crazy. i guess.

anyway now i should play vtmb and get closer to finishing it... it's sad that the game gets less good as it goes on, like downright tragic. chinatown and then blehhh, tragic tragic, walking around santa monica is, as i said i think, perfect videogaming.

okay, i did the society of leopold stuff, which was fun, i used dominate magick (it feels cute / witchy to spell it that way... oh no... i really am like my mother) to make a bunch of the enemies in the level just kill themselves and then tranced them to suck their blood. it's crazy how easy that is. i need to finish out the thaumaturgy stuff to make it better. it's a fun zone, rather easy though, it feels like the start of the game is super tough and then difficulty kinda drops off. chinatown is like rather tough as well, and then,.. it goes easy on you with a bunch of human enemies without any potential for masquerade violation.

oh here's a pic from the other day, in the victoria's secret, it felt like, important, for some reason:

important as in descriptive of some kind of facile thing. idk, consumer-nightmare type thing, i love camera flash on wet drink straws, that always looks good and freakish to me.

anyway, i can't stay up too late, just for my own good. oh, but, today i did go walking on a treadmill for 30 minutes. i haven't done that since i was a kid, i think i should do that twice a week at least to keep my body, like this, i suppose. less about losing weight than maintaining weight... but if i get a little skinnier that would be cute.

anyway, for real this time:

byebye!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

[gracethruwords]

My dear sibling who was never born, I'm writing to you again. I know it's been so long. I haven't felt the need to write to you, for years now. When I was a little child I loved mom and dad's undivided attention. I did not feel like anything was missing with all the love, until I was six and I had no one to play with. Then I wondered how it could've been if you were there with me. Would we fight? Would we argue? Would we break each other's toys? Would you eat my chocolate and steal my stuff? Would you be two years older than me or nine years younger? Would we grow up to be best friends or hate each other? I often wondered. I missed you the most when I saw others playing with their siblings and yet at the end of the day having each other. "you're so privileged, all siblings do is fight" well i guess it would've been better. But I accepted it and I really love being an only child, but sometimes I feel how it would've been with you by my side. Would I feel less alone? Would you be my confidant or spill all my secrets to our parents? But despite it all you'd love me right? You'd beat those guys to pulp who flirted with me at school, I'd end up being single all my life. But you'd give me a shoulder to cry, right? We'd talk about stupid stuff and you'd scare me in the middle of the night making ghostly sounds. And when I'd have done a mischief I would've blamed you for that. I would get you in trouble but I'd be your partner in crime. We'd figure things out together, wouldn't we? We'd fight each other but kill for each other too and when someone else said something mean to any of us, we'd team up and knock that bustard out. We'd be enemies but best allies. I missed you the most when mom was at the hospital and I was fifteen. I thought it would just have been better, you being with me. I missed you the most on festivals, though mom and dad tried to make them the best, I'd still feel something missing. As I grew up I learned to be okay with it. I love being alone and having all the love just for myself. I love not sharing my chocolate. But still when I think about it I wonder, how different everything would be? If you'd have been here with me.

[mitigatingacademics]

{12.25.23}

Merry Christmas, friends. 🎄

This year truly reminded me why I enjoy working the holidays.

Despite baking copious cookies, offering up Party Perks full of slow cooker hot cocoa (they're not made for that...have you ever tried to clean one after it's been used for something it's not made for? 🤦🏻‍♀️🤣) and dressing like an elf for the past four Christmas Eves, it's been hit and miss.

In 2020 we only had two trains and half the crews due to Covid furloughs. Last year we were blasted by winter weather so severe that I came back from my annual December vacation (for baking) to 3 nights without trains and finally, at least, 2 on Christmas Eve.

Last year's (workplace) Christmas was even harder than 2020's, to be honest. With the Covid cuts we knew what to expect. Fav co-worker was at a down-line station and we sent each other gifts on the train. One of my favorite Conductors was furloughed -- I actually took her gift to her house and got to see her extensive Christmas village set-up and gorgeous real tree. We adjusted.

Last year's arctic blast was unanticipated (at least beyond a few days out) and we were left, more or less, with our hands tied as to options and little else to do but apologize and feel bad.

To put it into perspective -- this year's company official ugly sweater says 'Getting You Home For The Holidays' ...which is exactly what we were NOT doing last year. 😔

This year, fully staffed and 60 degrees (which I admit I also complained about a bit, but...less -- the sweet spot is, failing a dusting of our own, being able to chisel a piece of a white Christmas off the New York train and hold it in your hand -- I'm not kidding, see below from my first Christmas at this station 😂 ) spirits were festive and good times were had.

It felt right and I'm very grateful.

White Christmas 2018 be like:

Favorite and most meaningful gifts this year include:

From Mom (selected by me).

I also received two books by Rachel Maddow and a whole-ass desk situation (I've needed a desk for so long, I can't wait to get everything put together and arranged!).

When Jamie's book arrived:

Mom: Who is Jamie Raskin?

Me: He's a Congressional Representative from Maryland. ... He was on the J6 Committee.

Mom: Of course he was. 🤦🏻‍♀️

Me: He's also an incredibly intelligent and articulate professor of Constitutional Law? 🤷🏻‍♀️😂

Dad gave generously in the form of gift cards, several of which are for Amazon and will undoubtedly go towards more books.

You can never have too many books. 📚

From fav co-worker.

I'm no longer holding a (selfish and inappropriate) grudge against her for bidding off the regular that had us working together 3 nights a week. She had her reasons and, as I told her the first time she brought it up (though it took a hot second to get over myself and actually mean it 🤦🏻‍♀️😂); I hope it helps in the way she thinks it will.

Even when we're not working together multiple nights a week, she still knows me better than just about anyone these days. These items are just a few from a huge bag of individually wrapped thoughtfulness.

I love Harry Potter in Dutch more than I could possibly explain.

Once I get through the Feb. LSAT (decided we're sticking with that one, for better or worse -- last night and tonight are the first nights since my last real post that I haven't spent at least an hour with Brad Barbary 😂), I want to get back to practicing Dutch (and French) for more than just keeping my Duolingo streak alive.

Inspiring Women Fisher-Price Little People edition is equally amazing. I'd never even seen this set (and I love it!) but also, I now have a 'collection' of these items so the next time Amazon tries to sell me the Sanderson Sisters or Golden Girls I don't have to worry about starting yet another collection. ...it was done for me! 🤣

It goes without saying that Sweet Liz telling the world, in a best-selling memoir which will undoubtedly be instrumental in the way that she's remembered far into the future, that the GOP is led by morons, is one of the greatest gifts I've ever been given.

Beyond my unending appreciation for the commendable sass with which Liz so articulately expresses herself, I am truly and seriously so grateful for the time and effort she put into not only the things that she's done, but the book she wrote about it.

I was asking for a book before its existence was announced, it had a great deal to live up to in my mind, anticipation aside, and it went above and beyond. Full review to follow (I'm almost done with my notes).

I have an incredibly blessed life and I am very grateful.

[temporarymoods]

taking care

Hi blog, don't think I've forgotten about you! I've just been so busy, and then I got sick, even though I didn't want to admit that I was under the weather at first. Now I'm waiting for my period to come, and every month it's so tantalizing. There's this very parade-y buildup, I mean the PMS is quite rough, and it all starts like 7-10 days beforehand, but then just as it's supposed to crest, everything stops. There's a calm before the storm, which without fail has me begging for it all to hit me already!! Part of my eagerness has to come from the fact that I am more prepared than the army for such an onslaught of destruction. Think of a way of collecting period "blood"--- guarantee you I have it, in its most organic form no less. Tampons? Check, with clean cotton. Pads? Multiple kinds, with magic powers. Cup? Yup. Technical underwear? They're actually great, and I own three pairs. I guess every month I just go rando with my method. Maybe switch it up on day 3 (definitely, actually.) My old therapist, the one who was a bit too woo, told me that your period is a gift, in a way: Built-in self-care time, or rather a cleansing, a purging, when deep covered 'stuff' can come to the surface, and you can solve it. I think she thought that cramps were the direct consequence of emotional/spiritual turmoil which was on the sufferer to figure out. Safe to say I haven't taken that last one with me, but the rest sticks, kinda. The idea that you can make something out of once-nothing is not lost on me, as we know. So, being able to ceremonify your period, yeah sure, I'm there. Definitely, actually. Rituals! Greater understanding! Problems and solutions! All make for quite a nice moment. Plus, even though so much about my period does fucking suck, and that's for me, privileged white lady, it means my body's working, and that's not just a given. I remember after my surgery when everything kinda started going again like a system reset, I got my first period a couple of months later. Overjoyed because it meant I was finally normal and healthy and on track with my life, as opposed to fallen off in a ditch, where I had been for too long. This history certainly informs my current affinity for my period--- and, not the be forgotten, the joy not being pregnant :) So, like every other fourth week, I'm kind of looking forward to the spectacle.

Meaning-making is like sticking your hands in a sandbox. Or more like fetching water nearby to make the world malleable under your touch.

Coziness, fuzziness... I've taken these things for granted. I appreciate nmte (now more than ever) the stereotypical, tropey acts such as wearing slippers. "It's what women do," I've known for a long time. But I never felt like them. I've always struggled with leaning into an under-blanket kind of night. But I get it now. And I should really be embracing it more-- being in bed, wearing thick socks, living in sweats. Maybe I'm tired. But you don't need to be exhausted to rest. And resting, squeezing that orange of living for a drop of sweetness, what more could we be here for?

I desire more sweaters. I'm going to a fall festival at a farm soon; it will surely be the highlight of my month. This peach tea I'm currently sipping is very nice. My apple candle is bright smelling and perfect. I love that I get to sleep, and dream (so I can wake up and realize it is not real.) One of my dear friends is flying to visit for the long weekend. Tomorrow I'm going to a new cafe, which I've managed to make a habit of. Schoolwork is tough, but it will be over soon, and my everyday will blossom better. I owe some texts to my mom. The air was warming tonight. A newly discovered sustainable fashion brand had a great sale; a package will be arriving soon. There's a list of movies I'd like to watch this month, when I've got time in between open markets and thrifting. I've been asked on a date, but nervous to respond. The silhouettes of my room decor reflects how much I care about this bedroom setting, bringing me peace. I'm glad I got to blog again, even if it feels overwhelming. Hopefully my Depop listings will reach the right people.

What would be the first step in securing safe absences for those dealing with menstrual pain, really, where would we even start? I'd love to get some acquaintances around and discuss this. How would I do that?

Haha, Kate

p.s. brain noisy, pillow time

[scarlctheart]

Though the burlesque performer was usually a creature of the night, arriving at the cabaret for her shifts when the sun was already beginning its descent into the skyline, her newfound passion for sewing and garment creation often demanded outings to the local fabric shop to retrieve supplies during the day. And now that the holiday season was over, she was more than ready to revamp her costumes for something a little less... festive. It was approaching a year since Freya and Iris had blown into town, and although her roommate was significantly less interested in the idea of making connections and finding a community of sorts among the locals, the redhead was eager to do just that. So when a mousy girl with fiery locks of her own approached her, and with flyers advertising the infamous carnival no less, Freya felt her impassive resting expression softening with warmth for this stranger. As a fellow performer, the least she could do was hear her pitch. But when the girl started stumbling over her words, the former ballerina offered an encouraging nod. "It's okay, you can start over if you need to," she assured the other, her tone gentle. "This part of the job's no fun, huh? I prefer to save all my social energy for the stage, but you have to know how to network too," Freya lamented, her expression brightening at her next statement. "Your reputation proceeds you, though. I've heard a lot about the carnival from a few local friends of mine, I just haven't checked it out yet. So, by all means, tell me all about it. And take as long as you need."

where : somewhere on anchorage's main street when : january 4th cap : none for now

NOW SPORTING BRIGHT RED HAIR in an attempt to make her appearance more interesting, as suggested by the ring leader who seemed incapable of biting his tongue when it came to spouting off opinions, Dorothy had found a spot on main street that had a decent amount of foot traffic. This was her least favorite part of the job, being forced to try and get flyers into the hands of passerby's, as it meant following through on two activities she regularly went out of her way to avoid: drawing attention to herself and approaching people. But it had finally been her turn for the task, and even if the new hair color and the new official status of her relationship with Pesor did give the normally mousy girl some confidence she wasn't accustomed with carrying, it didn't change how daunting the chore seemed. But the idea that an event similar to what had happened last year could threaten the business of the carnival gave her enough desire to at least try, which is exactly what she would describe her attempt when approaching the first person she saw. "Hi! Would you like a flyer for the carnival? There's a coupon at the bottom of it." The words tumbling out of her mouth at a fast speed, clearly just trying to speak them before the fear sunk in and messed her up. "There's all new performances and some other...new things to, uh, do....and-" Oh, no. Panic fully sunk in once the acrobat began stumbling over her words, leaving a beat of silence. "I've kinda completely forgotten what I'm supposed to say. Should I start over?"