#how interested I would eventually be in knitting and sewing

[elephantbitterhead]

Currently mystified by this knitting schematic for what I think is a top-down, yoked cardigan.

[saphiccarma]

- Post Bellum

Relationships - Agatha Harkness x Rio Vidal x Reader

Summary - After the military, you're left fumbling with your life, unsure of what to do. In comes the prospect of private contracting, and you get hired by two insanely hot women.

Warnings: ✨Trauma✨

A/N: this is more of an intro chapter, but there is more to come I promise. This isn't going to be so much so a series, rather a bunch of interconnected one-shots with some semblence of a timeline and plot

The army was never really your choice. Both of your parents had been in the military, your mother in the air force and your father in the navy seals. They had met afterward, bonding over shared trauma, and eventually they had a kid. A kid, you, who was pressured into joining the army and beating your parents’ standards. A kid who suffered a lot during her deployment. A kid, who retired from the military at a young age, early twenties because you joined as soon as you were eighteen. Your father joined when he was twenty, your mother twenty-two, so of course you had to beat that record as well.

While you regretted signing up, you did have some good memories. Hanging out with your crew around a small fire, only letting it burn for a little while so as to not draw too much attention, chatting softly. Or sitting in the dirt, a gun pressed against your shoulder with blood and tears covering your face. You remembered sitting in the barracks after grueling hours of training, sweat dripping down your back and soaking your shirt through while you laughed, exhausted.  

After the marine corps, the division you were in, one of the hardest ones, you wanted peace. You wanted to live a peaceful life without flinching at every little sound and having to take the night shift. You wanted to live a life without being paranoid that someone would leap out and jump you, or that a barking dog would charge at you. Everything that reminded you, even the slightest of your time serving, set you off. It was impossible to get a moment of peace.

Your parents suggested therapy, part of the reason you lived in N.Y, but after one session you quit. New York supposedly had one of the best post-military therapy groups. It was a bunch of bullshit where you talked about feelings and shit. Nothing you were interested in. Not that they knew that. You told them you kept going and that it was helping.  They called you often, but half the time you ignored their calls, claiming you were busy. To them, you were living a good life. A life where you had a good job and you were okay.

But you weren’t okay. You still woke up in cold sweats, looking around your room with frantic eyes as you searched for potential threats and your hands tightening around the gun you kept on the bedside table. Screams echoing in your mind, whether they were from children or adults – your own or your friends. The shadows in your apartment seemed darker, more ominous than they looked when you were a kid. Your father wasn't there to protect you anymore, nor your mother, hugging you tight and placing a tender kiss on your head. The shadows, the invisible monsters, were supposed to go away once you got older, but they only got worse. And your parents weren’t here to help.

They lived across the country in L.A while you were in New York. It was a decision that you regretted, but you had paid months in advance for the apartment, so there was no going back. It was constantly moving in N.Y, a constant source of noise that never stopped, even at night. A lot of sleepless nights occurred because of that. New York never slept so you rarely did.

Point is, you couldn't rest. Peace never came no matter how hard you tried. You tried all sorts of hobbies, bird watching, knitting, sewing, reading, video games - everything. You tried it all and only the last two stuck really, but they did nothing to stop the constant buzz of fearful anticipation that ran through your veins. You were constantly on edge, unable to turn off your senses. New York was far too loud for you to settle down and you wished that you had chosen someplace else to stay.

An old friend, one of your mentors from the military, suggested private contracting. You had called him one night, breathless and wide-eyed. Desperate for someone to remind you that you were safe, that none of your fears were real. He soothed you, his voice calm over the phone before he suggested contracting. So, you figured out how to sign up for it and listed your services. It turns out, that after some research, private work paid a lot. Like a lot. If this worked out, you would be rich in no time.

You ran a hand down your face as you stared at the blue light of your computer, emails sitting dauntingly in front of you, all of them marked unread. The clock on your computer told you it was 3 am, a common occurrence for you. Within just a couple days, you had about dozen people reach out. And you thought you were ready. Yet simply clicking on a single email seemed like an impossible task. The idea of committing to a person, surrendering part of your control felt like too much.

Fingers twitching on the mouse, you closed your eyes before scrolling then randomly selecting on one. Looking over it, you thought that maybe this wouldn't be so hard. Two women, both married, in need of a personal bodyguard. Both rich, successful, lawyers who had made a lot of enemies over the years. They were looking for someone to accompany either of them throughout the day. You chewed on your lip as you thought it over, looking at the name at the end of the email. Agatha.

With your sleep-ridden brain, you somehow thought it was a good idea to respond now, and you clicked reply. It was tempting enough. They were offering a shit ton of money that would have you set for a long while. You managed to type up something coherent, agreeing to meet up with her tomorrow, absently typing in a time and place. Some coffee shop you visit often. You slammed your computer shut, jumping at the noise it made.

You settled back into your bed, setting your gun down onto the table next to you and sitting up against the headboard. Your eyes flickered around the room constantly, hardly able to rest at night. The shadows in your room were screaming at you, voices of the past that pleaded for help. As much as you wanted to squeeze your eyes shut, block out the noise and try to quiet your mind, but you couldn’t. That would mean being vulnerable.

 Eventually your eyes started drooping shut, exhausted from days spent with little to no sleep, and it was already 5 by the time you fell asleep.

^______________^

Your neck hurt when you woke up, a small line of drool streaming from the corner of your mouth. A sign you slept heavily. Wiping it away, you glanced at the clock groggily, jolting when you saw the time. You threw the sheets off you, scrambling out of bed to get dressed. It was 10:30 and faintly, although just barely, you remembered you were meeting up with Agatha at 11. The shop was a good walk away from your apartment. It was nice to have that little bit of exercise in your routine. Not that you didn't go the gym every day and run until your lungs were screaming and lungs were burning.

You brushed your hair and your teeth, groaning at the apparent eye bags. You threw a pair of nice pants on, at least ones that were presentable, and a shirt. A jacket was thrown over that shirt with loose sleeves that allowed mobility. You clipped your holster onto your belt, making sure you had your concealed license in your wallet, and you tucked your gun into its spot. The last thing you wanted was the get stopped because you didn’t have your license on you. Sliding your boots on, you made sure that a knife was placed in there, a backup weapon just in case you needed it. With one last pat down, making sure your laces were double knotted and secure, and your belt was tight, you rushed out the door.

And you turned promptly back around, slamming your shoe against the door to prevent it from closing. You forgot your keys and the printed version of the contract. After they were both successfully nabbed from where they had been carelessly thrown, you were racing down the stairs. Children screamed from inside their parent's apartments, and you tried not to flinch or close your eyes and freeze up right there. Instead, you rushed out of the apartment complex.

The bustling streets of New York hit you like a semi-truck, crashing into you with surprising force. You took a deep breath. You did this every day. It was just people. You could do it. Slowly, you took steps, weaving through the crowds of people. You ignored the way your heartbeat uncontrollably in your chest - it was a common occurrence by now. You were hyper aware of the people and everything they were doing A man reached into his pocket rather quick and you nearly drew your gun.

You followed the roads with practiced ease, even despite the hammering of your heart and the way your ears perked at every little sound. It took a while to make your way through a bunch of people until you reached the cafe. It was a nice corner in the wall shop, quiet with hardly anyone in there most of the time. The prices were cheap, the workers were not loud at all, taking your order with a polite nod. You appreciated it. They seemed to know you like the quiet, not even trying to strike up small conversation like they did with other customers.

Heading up to the counter, you inhaled slowly to calm your breathing before ordering a large iced coffee with two extra shots. That should help keep you awake. You took a seat, fiddling with your thumbs nervously, for some odd reason. You weren't sure why you were nervous. Your coffee was served, and you spent the time anxiously sipping on your drink, relishing in the way caffeine helped wake you up. And after what felt like forever, the door opened, and two very elegant looking women walked in.

You choked on your breath, nearly doing the same to your coffee. It was very clear that they were your soon-to-be employers.

The first had brown hair that was pinned up into a bun, blue eyes shimmering as she glanced around. Her eyes were calculating and cold but held a tint of warmth that you were able to pick out.  Pink lipstick adorned her lips that were pursed into a thin line. She was dressed nicely, with boots that clacked on the floor with every step she took.

The other had similar hair, except hers was wavy instead of curly, falling elegantly down her shoulders. Her eyes were a dark chocolate brown that seemed as if they had infinite secrets. Her own steps were silent, quieter than the subtle music that drifted through the cafe. You liked that immediately.

The blue-eyed one spotted you first, her lips pulling into a small smile before she made her way over. You stood, your chair pushed back a bit louder than intended and wiped your palms on your pants. You didn't bother to force a smile onto your face, rather just nodding in greeting.

"Hi, my name's Y/N," you introduced, your voice steady and calm. You had half a mind to stick your hand in greeting, but just the thought of it made you internally shake your head. It was relief when neither of them offered their hand.

"Agatha," the blue-eyed woman introduced, her voice silky smooth, "This is Rio."

Rio grinned, her smile cat-like, and eyes glinting with mischief. It instantly set you on edge, "Y/N is a beautiful name," she purred. She tilted her head, brown eyes taking you in.  

You cleared your throat awkwardly, "Can I get you guys anything to drink? Or do you just want to dive right in?"

"Rio will get us some drinks. You and I can get started." Agatha slid into the seat across from you, her long fingers folding in front of her. You sat across from her.

You weren't sure how long it took to go over the terms of the contract, discussing it all in great detail. Both of you had to know what was happening, all the exact terms of the job and what was expected from you as a private contractor, and from her as an employer. Rio joined after retrieving drinks, sipping on her own as she leaned back into her seat, casually crossing her legs. She reminded you of a cat. Calm and composed with a silent smile that spoke volumes, her body portraying so many of her thoughts.

Agatha was different. Her micro-expressions gave everything away, all of her thoughts. One of the many things you had taken from the military was how to read people. People expressed themselves in various different ways. Whether it was clear, voicing their exact thoughts whenever they wanted to. Others were more quiet, only speaking when prompted, but their bodies gave away more than they would like. Little movements, the tensing of their arms, shifting of feet, hunched shoulders - it all gave something away. Rio was one of those people. Agatha wasn't either of those people. She was the quiet commanding type. Tiny expressions on her face, the little twitch of her nose or slight curve of her lips told you what she was feeling. She was a perfect mix of voicing her thoughts yet keeping them close to her chest.

They were certainly an interesting pair.

By the end, you had gone through your entire cup of coffee, and you were still exhausted. Agatha gave you a little smile, her eyes shining with a small bit of hope that was just hardly visible, as she stood from the table.

"I will meet you tomorrow at our place? I'll text you the address." Agatha had gotten your phone number right before the conversation ended. Her words left no room for negotiation, and you nodded, standing from your own seat.

"Yes ma'am."

Rio grinned her smile wide, and you faintly heard her whisper while she walked out with her wife, "I like her."

Taglist: @poppyshuman

[breadnauppercrust]

some designs i came up with for the girls in miraculous. the idea was 'what if they could have multiple outfits like sailor moon, as told by ginger, or totally spies?' and 'what if their clothes reflected their story arc?' however, i kind of gave up on them because i no longer have time to work on it as much as i would like to, so below this are copy+paste from my wip instagram account. lowkey its fanfiction-y lol

Alya:

Alya redesigns! tbh don’t know if they’re cohesive but 🤷‍♀️

S1: dresses for comfort & is geeky - think DrWho/Marvel/Tumblr. Obsessed w superheroes & has dedicated blog for each one, & that includes LB. Beginning of her & Maris friendship, starts to dates nino halfway s1.

S2: Mari influences her way of dress, still geeky but experimenting w clothes. Ladyblog becomes popular, interested in finding out her secret ID. Is also investigating akumas, HM, The Who/what/where/whys. Lowkey figures out who ladybug is but doesn’t say anything. Has been given fox miraculous at least a couple times.

S3: notices changes in Maris behavior & confronts her. Becomes fox miraculous holder full time, helps LB figure out who HM is & shares all the info she’s found. CN lowkey pushed to the side, causing friction, bc wrapped up w finding out who HM is ig. Constantly wears a Fanny pack now for trixx. Goes w comfortable but stylish clothes (ig lol idk) also at this point is BFF w Mari

Chloe:

S1: wears preppy designer brands to impress mom, despite living in diff countries. Basic mean girl, her only friends being Sabrina and Adrien - whose a childhood friend & lowkey helped him attend school. Both know how it feels to “lose” a parent & Adrien has seen a softer side of her. Probably has a crush on him ig. Maris bully, jealous of her talents at sewing & making friends easily, & prob her knit tight family.

S2: still preppy but w 60/70s inspo. Given bee miraculous a couple times, has resisted akumas - info she uses to help others later. Helping ppl & being somewhat nice makes her feel good & likes the appreciation from others+LB. Maybe Mom moves back to Paris w half sister, Zoe - might be significantly younger than Chloe idk. Didn’t like her at first but warms up to her as season goes on. Sees lil sister copying her & their mom, has an epiphany ig. Connects dots on akumas & feelings & tries to be better.

Should Zoe exist tho??? idk

S3: preppy but more casual. She’s nicer but still sarcastic, has made a few new friends, treating Sabrina better. Still trying to get moms approval tho & follows her around, even to fashion things w the Agreste. Notices Gabriel is acting strange, more distant towards Adrien, doesn’t notice what he’s doing or where he’s going. pt queen bee ig, probably given towards the very end of the season tbh by Adrien/CN after being ignored by LB bc of RR involvement w finding out HM id. AND noticing Chloe change significantly in the past several months (?) does Adrien reveal to her IDK he is still loyal to LB but eH

Mari:

1st Mari is shy, her outfits are safe & she kind of disappears in a crowd. She just became 🐞 & isn’t 💯 with her role yet. She’s designed and made her own clothes but doesn’t wear them outside of the house bc Chloe, oof

2nd she’s now comfortable being 🐞 & that boosts her confidence as Mari, she’s wearing more bold colors & outfits that she may or may not have designed herself 👀

3rd 🐞 is now the guardian of the miraculous box, has bigger responsibilities & problems to deal with. Being 🐞 has creeped into her daily life. Doesn’t have time to design/make clothes so wears w/e, but tries to appear happy.

Kagami:

i like the idea of kagami being prim and proper looking all preppy at the beginning, but after making friends she starts to rebel by modifying her school clothes w accessories but eventually wears w/e she wants w a punkish vibe. lowkey worried about falling into a trope so idk

[kimnowls]

I don't have the time or talent to mod cassette beasts so here's my fake partner idea

(cw: decapitation imagery)

Name: Jenny

Pronouns: She/her

Jenny starts out already in Harbourtown, but her house is locked. If you go to the door, she yells at you to leave her alone, and that she won't come out without her green ribbon. (Green ribbon is a key item lying somewhere on the overworld). If you find it and slide it under the door, she finally opens up her house and gives you some resources for your trouble. You can see her wearing the ribbon around her neck.

After that, and if you've defeated at least a few Archangels, she has a quest the next time you visit her. First, she asks if you believe in curses ("Sure, why not?"/"They might as well exist."). Then she tells you, very hesitantly, that she herself is cursed. ("What kind of curse?"/"You don't look cursed.") She won't tell you about the curse, but asks for your help in breaking it. See, she's done some research about Archangels. Apparently, there's a so-called Archangel of Secrets somewhere. Surely such a being would know the secret of breaking curses, right? Of course, Archangels are really dangerous, which is why she's asking you for the escort, someone who's managed to beat some of them in battle. If you agree to her quest, she joins your party.

Eventually, you find the Archangel's lair. The Archangel is immediately interested in Jenny; it can sense that she has a really, REALLY juicy secret. Seeing this, Jenny asks the player if they can leave the room real quick. "DON'T BE SO RUDE. CASS WANTS TO KNOW TOO! THAT'S WHY THEY AGREED TO HELP YOU! ISN'T THAT RIGHT?" ("Not the ONLY reason..."/"Okay, you got me.") Jenny's feelings are hurt, but she doesn't have time to dwell on that: the Archangel yanks the green ribbon away from her, causing her head to fall off. Her head is disconnected from her body, but she's still alive, like a Dullahan.

So yeah, the twist you probably saw from a mile away is that Jenny is THE Jenny from the folktale of the Green Ribbon, specifically the Alvin Schwartz version.

(Illustrations by Dirk Zimmer, from "In a Dark, Dark Room".)

She's a fictional character, and as such, the Archangel taunts her that she isn't cursed: she's exactly as she was created to be. "THE ONLY 'CURE' I CAN GIVE YOU... IS AN ENDING." And then it attacks.

After the first turn in battle, Jenny is like, "You're still fighting by my side? Even after seeing...? I shouldn't have doubted you. I'll never hide from you again." Then bam, fusion, kick the angel's ass, happily ever after.

Once you're back at the cafe, she tells you that she's been like this since she was born, and her parents were rich enough to hide her from the world until she was old enough to understand the situation. She grew up instilled with the fear that she would be rejected (or worse) by the rest of humanity if they knew she was like that. She's relieved that she finally has someone outside her family to talk to about this stuff.

Also, she's the only party member (besides Barkley, ofc) that you can't date. You can flirt with her during the five heart event, but she turns you down on account of her boyfriend waiting at home.

Also, she likes sewing and knitting, and she gives you some new clothes as a result of the five heart event.

Idk how her ribbon got stolen in the first place, maybe a monster broke in and took it, whatever.

Also, if you leave her in the cafe with Viola, you can come back to them bonding about being fictional characters together.

[facingthenorthwind]

So while reading Halo Effect, I naturally became obsessed with the one (1) Jewish character who turns up twice, one as a brief mention and one to write a single letter. Because I am extremely normal, I am writing a fic about him. Technically I've only written the first half (the second half is Peter and Thomas meeting up with him), but it's self-contained. It's been written for literal years, so I figure I should at least post it on tumblr. I hope you enjoy it, @alex51324!! (Also I haven't Yiddishised the Hebrew yet because I only know the standard pronunciation but I'm going to get someone to do it before I post it on AO3.) Hopefully this is comprehensible to non-Jews?? Please let me know if not.

Is it breaking a mitzvah if I say mourner's kaddish for someone who might not be mourned otherwise without a minyan? At most, there's a Green who has a J on his identity disc on one of the wards, but he's currently on so much morphine I don't think he'd remember the words, Issac wrote to his father once he finally got back to his unit. Honestly, he didn't much care what his father wrote back — if God didn't like him saying kaddish for Fitz, God could come down here and tell him what alternative he had. He asked his father to send a candle so he could light it for Fitz, but crossed it out and asked him for ten candles. Fitz may have been the first, but he sure as hell wouldn't be the last.

The news of Fitz’s death had preceded Issac’s return, but nobody had touched Fitz’s belongings yet. Cruelly, the most essential things, the things that meant most to him, had gone down with him, but Rouse eventually laid out everything that was in Fitz’s rucksack so they could decide what they should send back to his family — well, his brother. Fitz had said he didn’t have any other family left. 

They decided they’d split his cigarettes between them — Scogs tried to crack a joke about how Fitz had always been so free with his cigarettes it was almost like he wasn’t gone, but he trailed off, and no one laughed. His large collection of letters went in his rucksack, of course (he seemed to get them constantly, all from different people; sometimes he had even acted as some kind of go-between, passing on information from one letter-writer to another, as if they couldn’t just write to each other themselves). The scarf he’d worn every day from Christmas until mid-April, when even he couldn’t deny it was too hot, went in as well — Issac had always thought privately that it was fairly ugly, but then again, if he tried to knit a scarf it would probably turn out much the same. 

Dawson got Fitz’s copy of Prester John out of his own pack and removed his bookmark before handing it over to Rouse. “He’s made some little notes in it,” he said. “Nothing all that interesting yet as I can see, but it doesn’t feel right to keep it.”

Rouse packed it and Scogs didn’t mention that he had been next in line to read it. One of them could write home to get another copy, probably. Issac was sure he could — he had already received several yellowbacks which he’d left in the break room once everyone had read them so they could find a new home. Fitz’s sewing kit, playing cards and the various other things he’d been sent went on top and by the time they were done there was an all-too-noticeable hole where Fitz had once slept. 

It was only then that Issac noticed Rouse had gained corporal’s stripes. It made sense — Fitz needed replacing and Rouse was an obvious choice, being the smartest of the lot of them. He congratulated him, but Rouse wasn’t offended that he didn’t quite hit the right tone and his smile didn’t reach his eyes. Rouse’s didn’t, either.

When he arrived at the wards for his next shift, Captain Russell clapped him on the shoulder and gave him an extra ration of brandy. And then they just had to get on with it.

------

Fitz’s brother never replied to the letter he sent, so Issac kept saying kaddish for him past the thirty days that were traditional. He knew there were lots of reasons he might not have written — maybe it got lost, or he didn’t want to hear from Issac, or any number of perfectly innocent explanations, but as Issac watched men die day after day he couldn’t stop thinking about how if Fitz’s brother was dead, there was no one to remember Fitz as family. 

He said it for eleven months, as he would for a brother — four months longer than he’d known him. About six months in, Rouse wrote to him saying that he’d been stationed with Fitz’s brother at a CCS. He was a corporal, apparently, and Rouse said he reminded him of Fitz — that they said some of the same things, though in temperament they were pretty different. The war dragged on.

He kept a list of people in his units who died as he transferred from place to place, but it quickly became clear that he couldn't light a candle for each of them. The list just kept going, a litany of names followed by the date of their death in the Gregorian and Hebrew calendars. Jerry Scoggins, 30 September 1915/22 Tishrei 5676. Billy Dawson, 2 October 1915/25 Tishrei 5676. Fred Keighery, 4 February 1916/30 Shevat 5676... It felt like keeping track of their yahrzeits was more of a motivation to note the Hebrew date than keeping the holidays, since it wasn’t like he could, not really. Even as he tried to pray every day for whatever service he had free, the words of the festival services just made him homesick, and he didn’t have any of the things you should have: matzah or his mother’s blintzes or a lulav. 

He wrote to Moishe about studying the RAMC periodicals at Shavuot instead of Torah; it felt... oddly fitting. He knew, logically, that this war was man's fault and God didn't have anything to do with it, but that didn't provide any comfort when he was on death watch, sitting beside a man who gasped as he drowned on dry land. If the only control he had in this hell was giving two fingers to God, then he was going to take it. 

His father sent him a machzor so he could pray Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur, but he got to Unetaneh Tokef and didn't even have the energy to be embarrassed when someone found him crying ten minutes later. Reciting the ways people would die in the coming year — who by water, who by fire, who by sword and who by wild beast — felt absurd when he could list just as many from who was on the wards. Who by phosgene, who by sepsis, who by bullets? And for the machzor to claim that repentance, prayer and righteousness averted the severity of the decree — that sure hadn’t fucking worked for the soldiers getting killed. It hadn’t worked for Fitz or Scoggins or Keighery or— 

By the end of 1917 he could no longer go over the top, having lost his hearing in his left ear from a shell exploding too close. The letters he received detailing how his nephew he’d never met could talk in whole sentences now and how Mr Rabinowitz had fallen and broken his leg felt like missives from a world he would never return to again; how could he, when all he knew was the war?

The Armistice meant the supply of wounded slowed, but he didn’t go home — he was stationed at a general hospital, so there were still plenty of cases coming through. Even when they offered to send him home because he wasn’t regular army and they were well aware that the other corps had mostly got the wartime recruits out… he knew it was cowardly, but he accepted the offer to stay on until the RAMC left France. He couldn’t picture how he was going to fit back into the Leylands, and perhaps if he put it off long enough he’d finally work it out.

He did not.

When he finally got off the train at Leeds, it felt a little like a fairytale — he kept being shocked that he could recognise the buildings as the train came in, and it sounded the same as it had before the war. The back of his throat began to ache, though he wasn’t sure why, but before he could focus on that his mother was calling his name and hugging him. Had she been there the whole time? She gave him a kiss on the cheek and led him to everyone else — there was Shoshie, who grinned at him and then prompted the child hiding behind her legs to greet his Feter Itzik. While the nephew he’d never met hid his face in her skirt, his father embraced him with a decidedly gruff, “Son.”

And at last there was Moishe, his smile twisted by the scarring on his face. He looked like he understood the slight bewilderment that must have shown on his face. “Glad they let you go eventually,” he said, slapping him on the back. He spoke into his right ear, probably noticing that Issac had turned so he could hear the people in front of him more clearly with it. 

“Yeah,” Issac said, not trusting himself to say anything else lest he start crying. 

“See, he’s not scary, Dovid,” Shoshie said, having coaxed his nephew out in front of her. “Say hello.”

“Hello Feter,” he said at last. “Why don’t you have a face like Feter Moishe?”

“Dovid!” Shoshie said.

Moishe shot Issac a grin. For the first time in too long, Issac laughed.

[ghostlyshellofapuppet]

141 x crafty gn reader

Ok it's only August but I've started thinking about what I'm going to make my family for Christmas to start early, and this fic mentions nothing about Christmas. Also I'm newer to writing so if you notice something weird or not good please leave something in the comments to help me get better

Price

• Doesn't know anything about crafts except how to make those ships in bottles, wood working and glueing things together. Can't even imagine being able to make the things you do, seeing the process and the finished results, Price wouldn't be able to finish it or think of that in the first place.

• Is very proud of you once he sees you finish something, still doesn't know how you do it, but very proud. Any paintings, knitted items, clay objects, wood burning pieces, anything you make he is complimenting. You put so much time, energy and thought into that and you made it, good job.

• If you need help with anything Price will try, he's not the most crafty person but he has very steady hands. But if you happen to need help with something wood, he's got you, it's in good hands. Price has been woodworking since high school and it's never left him since he used to make small things on missions when he had nothing else to do

• I feel like if he had to pick another craft to pick, he'd be decently good or pottery, give him a little bit to find what pressure to use when shaping but will eventually make a mug for you

Ghost

• As much as I want to say he's into crafts, I can't see it that well. Yes he can sew but anything other than that and it's kind of a mess, but he likes watching you work and your processes. Watching you being so focused on something you didn't even hear him walking into the room with a drink and food for you since you've been at this for hours, and he loves that you can just relax like this, ( if you have been on the edge of giving up on it), but please take a break, you haven't blinked in two minutes.

• Ghost will take you to craft stores and just wander around with you, he likes messing with those posable hand models. He will also happily buy you whatever you want/need, more wire, a cake decorating set or also long as you don't burn yourself a wood burning kit

•If you tend to have most of your best ideas at night he tries to stay up with you so you don't stay up too late, but he can be distracted if you try to make him help. If not he's checking the clock every five minutes trying to decide when would be a good time to stop you

Gaz

•Likes pottery but doesn't do it often, he doesn't have a place too. His mother has a pottery studio he can use if he's but most times he's on base or out on missions. He can do some designs on the pottery and has an eye for details but isn't great with a paint brush.

• Also likes seeing you make stuff, Gaz used to watch his mom make new mugs and plates for the kitchen and would sit with his grandma listening to her stories. He finds it relaxing.

• Would help you with anything, Gaz can do a good amount of small craft just from stuff he's picked up over the years. He can sew, build and design very well and would love doing projects with you. You want to build a new coffee table, he's already getting ready to go to the hardware store.

• Gets excited towards the end of projects, seeing everything come together after working on it is very satisfying for him, especially if it's something you or can use. Build a table, he can't wait to set his drink on it.

Soap

• Is very happy when he sees your crafts and will want to show you his drawing if your interested. You also paint/draw, he wants you and him to draw each other and trade them at the end.

• Probably ok at other crafts but still tries. Don't let him around hot glue or resin, he doesn't mean to make a mess but he does, resin is on the floor and he likes playing in the cooled down but still moldable hot glue.

• He's likes watching you make stuff if he's tired but would like to help if you're okay with it when he's more awake. If you want to do crafts without his help he's also good with just drawing in his book, probably drawing you.

• Will cheer with you when you finish a project, if you've been working on it for a really long time it calls for take out, a movie and possibly more art supplies.

If you made it down here thank you for reading and I hope you liked it

[jamisonwritestf2trash]

hey dude, love the writing! your characterizations are so on point for em :0 what do you reckon the merc's hobbies are in their downtime? like knitting, golfing, stuff like that.

TF2 Mercs and Their Hobbies!

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I'm glad people think I'm good because that justifies the fact that this is what I do with my spare time 😭 (kidding) Also again mandatory mutual appreciation, love ya for that 🫶🏻 and ty for loving my writing, I really appreciate it <3

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This one's definitely got me smiling and kicking my legs bc something about the idea of these guys being happy and doing normal human things makes me happy.

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Demo knits! He also sews and crochets. This man is just a little grandma (affectionate). His mom taught him, and he just always liked it. It's calming, has definitely given the other Mercs blankets, and just claimed, "Oh well, I found it somewhere." Like it isn't in their well-known favorite color or subtly customized to them. I think he'd also be into most art. Painting and wood carving are two I think he'd fine interesting.

Engie- This man loves Legos. He has at least ten finished sets and about six unfinished ones lying around. He buys the adult sets for himself but has bought Pyro smaller sets so they can build together. Also isn't opposed to going fishing.

Heavy- Did you know he likes rock climbing? Turns out it's a lot easier to get into that hobby if you're strong. He's also a fan of hiking and swimming. Also very good at chess, he and Madic play a lot.

Medic- He loves music! He's good at it too, (I've seen others hc that he plays violin and please I love that, I love violin.) Along with the violin he kills on piano. It's actually really nice to hear piano coming from the lab and not screaming. Who knew? THIS. MAN. LOVES. TO. DANCE. He knows how to and loves to teach people. He specifically likes ballroom dancing, he can waltz, he can swing, if you can think of a dance he probably learned how to do it at some point.

Scout- Sports are probably the most obvious hobby I could pick for Scout, with video games coming in second. But I am a man who deviates from the obvious. He likes to bake and cook! Like I've seen people say this man can't boil water, and that's an insane take to me. Sure, it's funny, but this man loves his mom. Do you think he didn't bake and cook with her to help her out? He has a box of recipes that have been in the family for years. This man is killer when it comes to food, and I will die on this hill. (When he's baking, though, Pyro comes out of nowhere to "help." If any fellow bakers know how annoying it is to have a partner in the kitchen, you'll know how patient Scout has become, but he aurally doesn't mind Pyro baking with him after a while.) Don't ask him to do paintball with you! He loves it a bit too much.

Sniper- My man loves plants. He loves to garden. He has a little windowsill planter in his van. He grows little fruit plants sometimes and has a few cacti scattered around. He also has a bonsai tree, which he is meticulous with. You'd think this man would take up these hobbies to relax, but no. He is also insanely good at poker.

Spy- Really in to calligraphy, origami, and wine tasting. (Also, not really a hobby, but I hc that he can bartend if need be). He's just really into the "fancier." Hobbies that can also show off his art skills, also he likes wine so yk.

Soldier- Like Sniper, he's a really good poker player. He's definitely more into it than the other guys. He hates losing. He also does the traditional suburban while dad hobbies. He watches football and likes to grill. He's just a silly little American man.

Pyro- For the most part, they don't have a singular hobby they really do by themself. Scout and Engie just tend to include them in theirs, so they've never really had to figure out what to do in their downtime. But that doesn't mean they didn't find one eventually. They get into collecting! Specifically, bugs! They have at least two orchid praying mantis and one normal green one in a shadow box. Plus, they have a small collection on honeybees and even some scorpions and spiders (I know they aren't bugs, but I feel like most bug collectors have them too.) Engie went into Pyros room once because Pyro wanted to show off their collection and nearly fainted when Pyro showed off their favorite spider, it was a camel spider. (Look them up if you want but good God, they're so gross 😭)

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One of my favorites to write, super cute and wholesome idea. I smiled the whole time writing this.

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[webedragons]

15 People, 15 Questions

I was tagged by @thehiddenbaroness Thank you!!! 

1. Are you named after anyone?

My first name no, but my middle name is from my great grandma on my mothers side. It means "light" which I like. 

2. When was the last time you cried?

I had a stress cry at work two days ago lol, we had a no call no show and I was there 6 hours later than scheduled. 

3. Do you have kids?

No and no thank you.

4. What sports do you play/have you played?

None unfortunately, I was homeschooled so team sports werent really a thing. I recently tried rock climbing and really liked it, and I really want to take dance classes of all sorts!

5. Do you use sarcasm?

I would never. 

6. What’s the first thing you notice about people?

I think i notice how people sound first, i like voices and I recently realized I have some aphantasia anyways, faces are hard for me. I think second I notice clothing, not in a snobby way but in a textile nerd way!

7. What’s your eye color?

Hazel. 

8. Scary movies or happy endings?

Both at the same time! I’m a big fan of movies like crimson peak (mostly for the costuming though). 

9. Any talents?

I’m a decent singer and a pretty good cook and baker. I don’t know if I would say any of those are talents, but they’re things I've practiced a lot. 

10. Where were you born?

in  the state of Wisconsin, USA. 

11. What are your hobbies?

Textile arts mostly! Crochet, knit, embroidery, Tunisian crochet, hand sewing. I’d love to pick up weaving, spinning, and quilting, but I have limited space. I do also like a good hike, usually with my dog. I play some video games, more now that I graduated, and I read almost everyday! 

12. Do you have any pets?3! A dog a cat and a hamster :D I love them all, they keep life interesting. 

13. How tall are you?

Five foot six on a good day, when I’m not slouching lol. 

14. Favorite subject in school?

English I think, with science as a close second. 

15. Dream job?I just graduated with my nursing degree and I think right now my dream is to get experience in that field. Eventually the dream is to work as a wound care nurse, but like part time? So I can have hobbies like, gardening and owning chickens, because I have always wanted chickens. 

No pressure, those of you who I'm tagging! Just something to perhaps fill an idle few minutes. Sending all of you hugs, forehead kisses, and high-fives per your preference :P @morwensnonsense @cosmiccoincidence @highempressofdirt @icameoutonthetardis @bitchterra @rainstorm-banshee @guppiesforsale @officialgleamstar @maryellencarter @callmebliss @mercedesdfu @kai-eats @omgpoindexter @bythebyandbithebi @curlyhairedbooklover @boldlyygo @fulgurite-and-petrichor

[u2fangirlie-blog]

50 Things for My 50th Birthday - Now With 10 Bonus Things!

50 Things for My 50th Birthday

A continuation of my 40 Things for 40 List, with 10 additional entries for 50. Plus 10 Bonus Things!

Originally written December 2013 on my 40th birthday. It's a list of bits of wisdom I wish I had known when I was younger. Every item has a story behind it. I don't know if this is original, intelligent, humorous, creative, interesting, or valuable to anyone other than myself. But it means something to me.

Maybe someday I'll write an annotated version of the list with the stories for each one. Then that would turn into a book. Maybe it's better to give short snippets and remain mysterious than to overshare everything. December 2023.

40 Things for my 40th Birthday: 12/2013

1. The Universe has a sense of humor which manifests itself as irony. Take time to stop and notice the big glowing neon signs that point to irony.

2. Karma, like gravity, is a force of nature. It does not discriminate. It balances your actions and consequences like balancing an equation.

3. It’s better to be single and alone than be in a bad relationship for the sake of being in a relationship.

4. See the patterns and interconnections - streams, veins in leaves, flowers, moss, agates, geodes, galaxies, calendars, time – it is beautiful and awesome.

5. Every day is different. If today is shitty, tomorrow will be shitty in a different way.

6. Look for the positive. Thousands of things go right every day.

7. Have a good work ethic. Do your best, but don’t let perfectionism interfere.

8. Know your history. Remember your ancestors and family. You could not be who and where you are without all of their hard work.

9. Don’t bite the hook.

10. Don’t feed the troll.

11. Remember Professor Remus Lupin’s Defense Against the Dark Arts lessons – Ridiculous, Expecto Patronum, and Chocolate.

12. Learn crafts – sewing, knitting, beading, etc. – it enriches life. It’s fun to give surprise presents to people.

13. Dream out loud at high volume. Turn it up to 11.

14. No good deed goes unpunished.

15. The Platinum Rule: Treat people how they want to be treated.

16. Always have 2 weeks’ supply of socks and underwear.

17. Invest in good bras. Your back and boobs will thank you later in life.

18. Always wear comfortable shoes. Your feet will thank you later in life.

19. Don’t waste time in front of the mirror. Save money. Cosmetics are optional.

20. Do not fester. To fester is bad. Don’t bottle things up for years. When you eventually explode, it only frightens, confuses, and pisses off the target of your nuclear blast, and innocent bystanders may be injured.

21. Don’t confuse lust for love. Lust and love are not the same thing. Don’t allow physical attraction to obscure reality. Ask questions. You might not like the answers but ask anyway.

22. Beware of charming men. They use sexual energy to get attention and evoke a reaction, like using glamour magic. The feeling is fleeting. It’s nothing special.

23. Don’t wait by the phone or the computer. When a man says, “I’ll call you tomorrow,” he probably won’t. He might intend to call, but he doesn’t know which tomorrow he means – 24 hours, 6 months, 8 years later. Don’t take it personally.

24. Diamonds are not a girl’s best friend. You don’t need a ring. A loving relationship is the real treasure.

25. U2 is the greatest rock ‘n roll band and “Achtung Baby” is the greatest rock ‘n roll album in the entire Universe.

26. You are your own worst enemy. You are the only enemy you will ever have. Stop listening to the Itty Bitty Shitty Committee.

27. You are your own best ally. You are the only ally you will ever have. Never betray yourself to others or to yourself.

28. It is what it is.

29. Chill the fuck out.

30. On the subject of Big Girl Panties: Pull them up. Deal with it, whatever it is. They can be She-Ra Princess of Power, Wonder Woman, or Tinkerbell Underoos. In times when you can’t pull up your Big Girl Panties, get some Coping Skills so you can deal with it. Use Coping Skills until the problem is solved or the situation subsides. Repeat as necessary. Coping skills will eventually become the New Normal way of dealing with it.

31. Learn as many life skills as you are capable of doing - housekeeping, home repairs, yard maintenance, gardening, cooking, car maintenance, etc. Be as self-sufficient as possible.

32. Know when to ask for help. Offer to help others too. Know when to hire professionals to do the job.

33. Felines are the best animals ever in the history of all species on Earth. Being a Crazy Cat Lady is wonderful. It’s the cats who are crazy.

34. Read everything. Read constantly. Develop highly effective writing and verbal skills. Clear communication is essential.

35. Book smarts, diplomas, and degrees are not an accurate measure of intelligence. Common sense, ability, skill, and experience are most important.

36. No one likes an insufferable know-it-all. Don’t correct others even if you are right – unless it is a life-or-death situation.

37. Practice mindfulness. Orient your perception to the meta level.

38. Be grateful and express gratitude.

39. Be compassionate, sympathetic, and empathetic – even to people you dislike or who dislike you. Everybody hurts. Everybody has bad days. Understand that.

40. Remember the reason why you had your ears pierced on your 30th birthday. Enjoy the small pleasures of life: favorite foods, scents, sights, sounds, clothes, jewelry, and all the pretty things. These are what the dead remember and desire the most.

50 Things for My 50th Birthday: 12/2023

41. Toxic Situations: Know when to get out on your terms while you still have options. Leave before they force you out. Otherwise, you could be left scrambling and everything is worse.

42. The Ultimate Answer to the Ultimate Question of Life, the Universe, and Everything is 42, obviously. (Thanks to Douglas Adams.) 42 is the atomic number of molybdenum. 42 divine beings, with Osiris, Ma’at, and Thoth in the Hall of Truth, judge souls before they enter the afterlife in Egyptian mythology.

43. Dialectical Behavior Therapy skills, motherfucker, do you use them? You spent 2 years in Fight Club. Strive to be skillful every day. The core skill sets are mindfulness, distress tolerance, emotional regulation, and interpersonal effectiveness. Remember your values. Remember Wise Mind. Remember Radical Acceptance.

44. Gaslighting: Discussing problems is complaining. Telling the truth is causing trouble. Explaining yourself is making excuses. Asking questions is undermining others, making others look bad, or challenging authority. Challenging hurtful comments is not knowing how to take a joke. Expressing emotional needs is neediness. Expressing emotions is seeking attention. Showing confidence and intelligence and using an above-average vocabulary is being a bitch, being a know-it-all, or flexing your education and experience.

45. You need people whether or not you like it. Remember the pandemic lockdown. Remember working from home for a year and a half. You thought you trained your whole life as an introvert for that historic moment and would be excellent at it. No. It was objectively bad. It was a disaster. You need people. Be a better daughter, sister, and friend to the people in your life.

46. People change for better or worse. People will drift in and out of your life. People grow apart. This is a natural part of life. Accept it.

47. Magical Thinking: It’s one thing to know better. It’s an entirely different thing to do better. This is stupid behavior. It doesn’t matter how smart you are, how hard you work, or how good your intentions are. It’s never going to work out how you want it to. It’s never going to get better. And no one cares. Accept responsibility for your part in it. Don’t make excuses. Do something different. Do better. Change.

48. “Do or do not, there is no try” is fundamentally bad advice. Yoda’s lesson led Luke to black-or-white thinking. What would Spock or Picard teach Luke about learning a new skill? Get up and do it again until you can do it or find another way to do it.

49. Everybody is sick of your shit. Everybody, including you, is sick of your shit.

50. On the subject of Giving a Fuck: You either give too many fucks or you never have enough fucks to give. You need to practice, as the internet meme says, “moderate fuck distribution.” Ask yourself when you truly feel like you have zero fucks to give, are you completely out of fucks? Can you have a fuck debt, have a negative number of fucks? Or does something magical happen? Like a mint in the bottom of your purse, like loose change between seat cushions, like a potato chip under the fridge, there is always one more fuck to give. Like a free play token or an extra life in video game, one more fuck will magically appear. That one magical fuck will be dirty, hard, bitter, and broken, but it will be there when you need it. That one magical fuck can be saved or given as needed until you can replenish your regular supply of fucks.

BONUS CONTENT: I have more than 10 things to add to the list of 50 things.

Life is unpredictable. I don’t know if I’ll live another 10 years to continue the list, so I’m writing 10 Bonus Things. Everyone loves free bonus things!

51. “If I don’t do what my parents want, they will be mad at me.” WHAT? Did you just say the quiet part out loud? Every decision in your life is based on it! How can you be in the fifth decade of your life on this planet? Are you even an adult?

52. You can’t be needy if you don’t have needs. Meet your needs for yourself. No one else will. If there’s the slightest stink of neediness on you, people will abuse and reject you.

53. Don’t have expectations of others. Don’t engage in wishful thinking. Stop wanting people to demonstrate their feelings or care for you in the way you want. They won’t. It’s never going to happen. If you ask for what you want, then you are needy or attention-seeking. Accept what they offer as they give it, even if doesn’t meet your expectations, even if it’s nothing. That may be the only thing they can offer or the only way they know how to express it.

54. Most of being an adult is lying to everyone that everything is okay and that you are fine, when in reality your life is an unbearable mess, and you are not anywhere close to being okay.

55. Nothing you do is ever good enough for others. You’re damned if you do and damned if you don’t. It never changes.

56. “Use it or lose it.” You refused to believe it until you quit using it and you lost it. You don’t need to look in the mirror to see it. How does your body feel? Get up, girl, and use it.

57. No one gets out of here alive. Prepare for your death. Don’t leave the burden of your funeral plans, estate, and debts to your family, friends, or strangers. If you worked on projects or created things with other people, include it in your will. Your legacy, and that of others, literally could be thrown away. If you don’t tell people what you want, they will get it wrong. Then you’ll have to come back and haunt the fuck out of those people.

58. There’s no escaping your past, especially with family. They remember everything. Every obnoxious thing you did as a teenager. Every time you freaked out. Every time you had a bad day. Every mistake you made. Every mental health breakdown. It doesn’t matter how hard you work to change and overcome your problems. You’ll always be that past worst version in their minds, and they’ll hold it against you forever.

59. Your family is never going to forgive you for getting a degree in English. It’s always going to come down to their misperception that you are nitpicking and correcting them when you’re not. They’re going to throw it in your face like a glass of ice water.

60. Remember the “Litany Against Fear” from Dune. You memorized it when you were 15 years old. It still works.

[torchstelechos]

i realize how nothingish this question is regards to like answerability but like how do you get.... ideas...? or. i dont really ever have any kind of bigger things i want to draw its always like small stuff.... or... idk.... i want to make things that are like.. more... i want to make stuff that like... means something makes you think something... most of my stuff is just tiny little things with nothing behind it just something to get it down but i like want to make things that are interesting to look at.... idk..... okay wait ill share a self portrait i did.

^ im really hapoy with this stuff theres color theres studf going on! an eclipse! right like its. its neat theres things theres associations being made theres questions theres something there this is the only thing ive made where i actually feel like ive expressed something that was in me and i just dont know how to do that again i want to make more things like that i want to get more out of my art than just putting stuff down thatll be forgotten the second its down i want what i make to be meaningful to me and idk how... uhhhh anyway thanks for reading thisif you do i just needed to get thoughts out or smth frustrated with this. doing this for six years and its just. ive managed like a handful of things id want to show people everything else is just things made because i just have to do this urghhh sorry about all this

Howdy! I had to take a bit to think of an answer for this question. I didn’t want to fall back on the statement everyone gets when they ask about art (practice), especially since you specified ideas rather than art appearance/style. So! Lets get into that! (gonna be kind of long oops)

First I want to say that I enjoy your self portrait, its very colourful and I LOVE colour. The choices in colour also complement each other very well, as yellow, orange, and blues go well together. Not only that, but the saturation of each colour help bounce off each other and bring it all together. Now, I assume the materials are a blue pen, and crayons? It might be markers, but the way the orange moves across the yellow makes me think of crayons. I adore it! I love crayons and haven’t been able to use them in a while, so it’s nice to see them being used. 

Now, your question, I feel needs some context from my side of things before I can properly answer it. I have been doing art for about 15 years now, and I have done multiple mediums including painting (water colour, oil, and acrylic), drawing (crayons, pens, markers, pencils, etc.), fiber arts (knitting, sewing, crocheting), baking/cooking (i think the presentation counts and how its a medium that takes combing lots of things to make a singular outcome), and a few I wont share right now. I’ve had official art classes that made me do things very specifically, one that taught me art history and how different genres of art were introduced, another on creativity and how to help flourish ideas, and some others on how to use different mediums and styles. I also watch speedpaints, animatics, and animation progress videos to learn some quick shortcuts in digital art since I was never taught officially on digital art. Including all of these, I also have done LOTS of practice in art. Having said this, lets get into some of my own thought processes. 

When I make art, the first things I tend to ask myself is “what do I want” and “what do I think would be interesting”? These aren't mutually exclusive, but they can be answered very differently depending on how I want to do something. For the Siffrin during the Mal du Pays fight piece, I actually started it by seeing a cat picture and thinking, “I want a discord reaction with Siffrin face down on the floor” which went into drawing Siffrin as the cat and then asking myself, “Wait, why is Siffrin face down?” which went into Oh! It’d be funny if it was Mal du Pays! So, doing that I decided to make it in the king's room which meant I had to draw a background. Eventually that transformed into “Okay but it doesnt look right, why?” the answer was that it didnt look like the game so I had to add some texture details and ta-da! Siffrin face down! 

But this also comes from years of practice in knowing what I want and knowing how to draw it, some of my art pieces were, “I think it would be cool if I drew a character looking down at me in front of a skyscraper” but um,, I didnt know how to draw that ;-; so I had to just let my hands kind of try and finish the piece even if I didnt like it. At that point, I realized I needed to practice the character and my style more until I COULD draw what I wanted. Which led into my drawing, a LOT of things I couldn’t and didnt like. 

As for symbolism in art, and how I got ideas for it, a lot of it comes down to knowing the character and how you want to translate your thoughts of the character into art. One of the ways I started doing this was adding flowers to the characters art, or learning what flower I considered “theirs” that way I could add hints to  it in the drawings. Some of it also came from animals, others came from art genres and their historical significance, and some come down to theories (such as colour theory in art). 

Finally, it really does come down to practice. As much as I hate to say it, a lot of the art pieces I do and share tend to lean towards “practice” or concept doodles so that I can better understand HOW I want to add it to a bigger piece. Most of my Siffrin and Loop drawings tend more to that as I need to better understand how their shapes and lines communicate to an art piece (Loop being a fucking star gets me so much) before i can add symbolism and make a bigger art piece. Even then, sometimes it doesnt work and the bigger art piece needs to be put to a back burner before i can communicate my thoughts on the characters as I wish to. 

(Here’s also a neat little trick I do, write out what you want to draw and then draw thumbnails so you can figure out the composition of the piece you want. It helps you know where something goes and how you want it to appear without keeping it in our brain for a long period of time. Some of the things I share are concept doodles but I’ve shared pictures of me doing this before! It can be annoying but trust me, it helps when you can’t figure out the draft at all.) 

Also, heres some of my REAL old art for reference when I say I’ve practiced a lot and didn’t always know how to do big art pieces ;;;;

Hope that helped answer some of my thought process on ideas and how that translates to art? I could go into more detail if you need me to discuss something further

[sweetthepotato]

The Final Pillar: Chapter 3: Thanks for the Meal

Disclaimer

Chapter 2

AO3 Link

Chapter Summary

The Nightmare Breathing is reminded of some harsh truths amidst a lively gathering at a local donburi (rice bowl) shop.

Contents

Ricebowls, alert! Some angst. Hints of ObaMitsu.

The Snake Breathing user stared at her with a pinched expression in his two-toned eyes, clearly annoyed at her for some reason. His white snake, Kaburamaru, if she remembered his name correctly, seemed to be of a similar disposition, his red eyes peering at her blandly.

'Kanroji's been calling you over at least four times,' Iguro exhaled, his brows knitted together. 'You will deign us with your presence, won't you, kouhai?'

Looking over the back table, she could spot Rengoku and Kanroji waving her over enthusiastically. The Love Hashira was somewhat dismayed at having -unintentionally, Kagome asserted -been ignored in the last few minutes. Noting the potential death warrant glaring daggers at her, she thought that refusing at this point would be the moral equivalent of stepping on the paws of two very eager puppies.

Stifling a sigh, the girl acquiesced and resigned to her fate of being dragged into an instance requiring social interaction. Picking up her tray, she tiptoed behind the Snake Hashira around the crowded donburi-ya, eventually landing a seat next to Rengoku.

'Good afternoon,' she murmured.

The Flame Hashira's face lit up in response to her greeting, not bothering to pay attention to the brunette's reluctance. 'Kagome-kun!' He boomed, 'A pleasant surprise to see you here, of all places!'

At her curt nod, he sized her up for a few moments. Left eyebrow lifting, he commented, 'I see you managed to fix your haori yesterday, kouhai! It looks like you did a splendid job from what I can see!'

'Eh?? I didn't know you sewed, Kagome-chan!'

Feeling their collective gazes upon her, the brunette resisted the urge to curl up and swallow her whole sense of presence, 'It was due for some repairs, that's all.'

'Indeed, it's quite hard to picture a demon slayer using a style such as "Nightmare Breathing" doing something so domestic,' Iguro followed, flatly, 'To be honest, I don't believe I've even heard of your breathing style before our last meeting. You said it was something you developed?'

Kagome glared at the Snake Hashira as the blunt delivery of his seemed to continue his interrogation of her from the other day. Nodding, she proceeded to pick up the first of her tempura, which, having sat on top of steaming rice for the past few minutes, had started to go soggy.

'Iguro-san, same here!' The pink-haired girl smiled between them both, the dimples at either side of her mouth becoming more pronounced. 'It sounds interesting, so I can't wait to see what it actually is!'

'It's... a new style I had to develop based on my trainer's breathing forms,' she explained, 'While I was able to replicate some of his Illusion Breathing kata, it didn't come as naturally to me within our set timeframe...'

'Like how I created Love Breathing from Flame Breathing! But... I can't say I know much about the Illusion style either, though...'

Iguro's brow raised, 'I'm a similar case. I haven't heard of Illusion Breathing before you mentioned it, Kagome.'

‘Kanroji-kun, Iguro, I've only heard my father talk about it once or twice,' Rengoku supplied, 'From my impression, Illusion Breathing is a rarely practised style, and my family's archives only has a few texts about it.'

Turning his head, he faced his intense gaze upon his new colleague. 'Kagome-kun,' he started, 'Considering how much information is available, it's impressive that you were able to create something new at your age!'

A slap on the back shook Kagome, 'Ah, no, not really...'

Obanai turned his gaze away from Kanroji, and used this opportunity to assess the latest pillar, who was sitting diagonally from him. He, Kanroji and Rengoku often travelled together after meeting at Oyakata-sama's, and he didn't need much to tell that they were already receptive to a new person, if she would even classify, joining their ranks. Their kindness, Kanroji's in particular, was why he enjoyed their company, but he acknowledged that he didn't share the same immunity from speculation as they did.

Kagome sat on the innermost seat, closest to the wall. She already seemed keen to fade away into the background, to his indignation. Judging from her appearance, the Nightmare user's hair was tied up and pinned behind a patchwork bandana. He assumed that the oni mask she'd brought with her was kept somewhere safe in her satchel, as her face was completely bare now they were dining in the donburi shop.

With a pessimism that he had learnt to internalise the worst of, especially in front of his present company, he stifled a sigh at the girl's youthful appearance. He surmised that she would have to be around Tokito's age, if not slightly older, and he mourned the prospect of more demon slayers being promoted at that time in their lives. While hollowed out slightly, the last remains of baby fat clung to the rounds of her cheeks. Her face, though pale, was patterned heavily with brown freckles and looked drier than it ought to be on a healthy human being.

Even if he was obligated to trust Oyakata-same's assertions, he couldn't yet imagine the young girl being ferocious enough against Kibitsuji's forces. This was, especially considering, her weakness to the smell of blood and now her timid behaviour when surrounded by Kanroji and Rengoku, of all people.

Aesthetically speaking, she looked fairly plain and common in comparison to the other hashira, with her half-asleep eyes featuring unremarkable, brown irises. He pondered that, perhaps in hindsight, the garish oni mask was the only thing that made her stand out as a demon slayer.

He was curious, however, about the grey-purple colouring shading the skin underneath her eyes.

Her meal was eaten in almost complete silence, as if the Flame user's praise was too much to process. With the sound of clicking, her chopsticks dug deeply into the rice, grabbing clumps of the grain mixed in with the tempura. She ate her food without much relish, focusing on one item in her set while the miso soup had probably went cold by this stage. As her donburi was finally emptied, her eyes met with Obanai's for a moment, and upon further inspection, he noticed that they were slightly rimmed in red, the veins streaking through the whites.

After a considerable period of silence, Kagome was compelled to speak, 'K-Kanroji-senpai, do you have any plans before your next mission?'

'Huh -me? Hmm... I was thinking of finding a bathhouse at some point, it's been a while since I've been able to relax, and so it'd be good to do something fun in the meantime!'

Bobbing her head in understanding, the Nightmare Hashira picked up her miso soup and sculled the whole serving down. 'I see,' she said, picking up the first slice of pickled radish, 'Taking breaks is quite important after a long mission.'

Rengoku hummed in agreement, tilting his head at the brunette sitting next to him, 'Kagome-kun, are you planning anything fun before your next mission? More sewing, perhaps?'

She shook her head, a half-bitten radish paused between the ends of two chopsticks, 'Just some body conditioning, I suppose. All of this walking around has probably unbalanced my physical strength, and I intend to work through my forms more,' with the sound of crunching, she progressed quickly to the last radish, 'After I check out of my inn, though. There's not much room there for training.'

Pressing her hands together, Kagome expressed a quiet thanks for her meal.

Holding a cup of green tea against his lips, Obanai felt his eyebrows furrow again. While he acknowledged the fact that the Nightmare Hashira seemed to understand her place among the rest of the pillars, there were a lot of things that concerned him about her demeanour.

'Do you have a place in mind?' he asked.

She shrugged in lieu of an answer, but after realising that Obanai was still insisting on a verbal response, stated, 'I usually rely on any wide, unpopulated area. In my travel to this place, I've been able to gather that there is an evergreen forest that surrounds this town, so if it improves the likeliness of being out of everyone's way, I'll probably go there.'

'Kagome-kun,' Rengoku assured her, 'I would be more than honoured to offer my family's estate for training, especially for the sake of our newest hashira!' He clapped onto the space between the girl's shoulders, which the Snake user noticed caused her to stifle a flinch. 'I'm sure Senjuro would be happy to learn some-'

'-Senpai,' she cut off, appearing to clutch at her tea too tightly for Obanai's liking, 'Thank you for offering, but I'm sure my presence there would cause more confusion than the benefits would justify.'

Her initial wariness of the other pillars reminded him too much of his interactions with Tomioka, a thought he would prefer to not be occupied by. The bandaged man shifted, his sense of schadenfreude encouraging him to prolong his questioning of the girl from across him. Placing his cup down on the table, he leant closer to Kagome, his voice intentionally taking up a bland tone, 'Is there anything that you do aside from training?'

In a manner that was telling to him about her untrustworthiness, she stared back at him, her brown eyes hardening against more of his scrutiny. He tapped his fingers along the top of the table in sequence, waiting to see whether the Nightmare Breathing user would crumble under his pressure or not.

'There aren't many things that I like doing, aside from what is asked of me, Iguro-senpai,' she said plainly, choosing to only half-entertain his questioning.

Placing her tea cup upon her lacquered tray, Obanai couldn't help but notice, with a sense of sadistic pleasure, how his junior colleague in all senses of the phrase, trembled under his gaze. However, he was soon torn out of his reverie when she stood up abruptly, her hackles somehow smoothing over without a moment to spare.

Sharing another look with him, he caught onto the well-contained anger within her now bloodshot eyes. He suddenly noticed that her usually brown irises looked more like the colour of well-steeped spiced tea.

Although he could take the time now to dissect his observations, the Snake Hashira deliberately decided to put them to the side for now, in favour of savouring his time with his other colleagues. His eyes slithered back towards Kanroji, his uneasiness soothed over.

'Thank you for the talk, Rengoku-senpai, Kanroji-senpai, Iguro-senpai. With deep regret, I am afraid that I must take my leave, as I believe I'd agreed with the proprietor to check out around this time,' she bowed slightly, 'I look forward to cooperating with you, if our paths ever cross before our next meeting.'

Extracting herself from their company, she returned her tray to the counter at the opposite end of the donburi-ya. The screaming raged in her head in response to Iguro's interrogation, and it took conjuring Shizu's voice to calm down her nerves. She didn't know why, exactly -perhaps to kill one's boredom -but the Snake Hashira was making it difficult to maintain her composure in front of the other pillars.

A provocation was something she should've expected, she realised. As a result, she tried to avoid taking it personally, even though that was likely Iguro's intention.

His coldness wasn't anything new, nor was it anything special, but it exhausted her in a way that killing demons didn't. Rengoku and Kanroji's fast friendliness was a relatively new thing to her, and she might've warmed up towards them if the circumstances allowed for it. In reality, Iguro was more like the cold splash of reality, one that admonished any desire to exist in any place other than what was determined for her.

As she exited, the brunette headed out towards the bookshop she spotted upon arriving in the town.

[pbandjesse]

I am wrestling with emotions. Or my lack of emotions. Because they accepted our offer on the house. There was a little back and forth. But they accepted. And we move forward with an inspection. But I'm not like screaming excited. I am measured. I am thrilled they said they accept the offer, but it is only one part of the process. This is just the first time we have gotten to this part. Next comes the inspection. And then we have more steps. I will not be excited in a real way until we have the keys in our hands. But this is huge. Maybe it'll hit me tomorrow.

Today was an alright day. I think the emotions and everything from signing paperwork and getting excited last night made my sleep very very weird. Very weird dreams about camp. I woke up not feeling great.

This sort of unwell feeling would linger through the afternoon. I had a little headache, I had a lot of pain in my eyes, my body ached, I just felt very unwell. I slept an extra half hour and left later then normal but it was okay. I still beat everyone to work.

When I got to camp I was just not feeling good so I had my breakfast hoping it would fix me but it did not. I would go up to the attic to sew for a little while. And would eventually come back down as Heather and Sarah came in.

I would switch between computer work, to sewing, to knitting. I tried to stay busy.

When I got bored I would take some walks. I went to the lodge to measure a piece of furniture and found the fire marshall there checking all of the fire extinguishers. We had a really interesting conversation about the origin of phrases and how when he was a kid the idea of being send away to camp was scary and viewed as a punishment. But he thinks our camp is beautiful. Very nice old man.

I went and found Joe doing some plumbing work in the musuem. Took the whole sink off the wall. We chatted about buying a house and the stress and excitement of that. And then I went back to the office.

But only for a moment. I would get a mug full of dried corn to try to make friends with the crows on the field. And when that didn't work I went and laid in a bed in the pioneer cabins for a couple minutes.

I had lunch and continued working on my sewing. I went through both spools of thread I had at my desk but I am almost finished sewing all the pieces I had already made and now I get to figure out what I still need to make to finish the piece. Very exciting.

I would spend more time playing with chatgbt to create program ideas I can build on. And then I decided I wanted to start plotting out my temperature blanket for next year. I did a rain blanket earlier this year but that was just until mother's day. For this one I was each month to be a 20x20 square. So making that on my look I had a lot of math to do. 4 rows of 3. So it will be around 60x80. Give or take. I also picked a bunch of really nice colors. I think it's going to be a really interesting one.

The afternoon would drag a bit. But Heather's daughter Sophie brought their dog Timber to camp and they were so cute!! Some kind of Chihuahua/pincher something or other. They apparently love wearing sweaters and has the softest fur.

After everyone left the office to do other tasks, me and Heather had a really nice conversation about camp and some issues I've seen and things we want to see moving forward. I am a pretty positive person, glass half full, most of the time, so I really hope everyone can live up to my expectations and we can have the best summer. And stop comparing it to 2019!!

I continued to work on my knitting until my stomach started hurting and I thought maybe I was hungry. So I said goodbye to Heather and headed to Wawa for a sandwich.

This did not go super well. Firstly something was wrong with the screen and I clicked whole wheat and had to ask the lady to change it and then when I tired to pay on the self checkout I hit cancel when I didn't mean to and get stuck on the help screen with the machine yelling at me and finally someone came and helped but I was feeling very stressed. And while my sandwich was fine the bread was very crumbly and it did not have enough mayo. I was glad I ate but it didn't make me feel as much better as I had hope.

And then I got stuck in so much traffic. With people driving so stupid. But I had good music and the sun was mostly not directly in my eyes. And I got home by 5.

James beat me home again by a few minutes. And we talked about our evening. We thought maybe we would go see lights but decided to wait for Monday when it might not be as crazy. Instead we chilled together on the couch while I finished my knitted square example for the temperature blanket. So I have an idea of scare and what it might look like and how my loom will work. I pulled the extra pegs out to make it the size I need so hopefully I will have no mistakes.

That took a good long while. And I was mentally really tired after that. I really struggle to hold numbers in my head and had to keep asking James to help me. I would get confused when I would start like say row 34. I would say I'm starting 34. And then get half way through and be like wait. This is 35. I finished 34. Or did I? Maybe this is 33. And that happened on every single row. So I would announce when I was starting and the number. And then I would announce I was done and James would tell me the number I just finished. It helped with not having to count over and over. For the real one it will be easier I hope. Because it's just two lines a day (I'm going to do the highs and lows instead of just the highs).

Harold the realtor would call us around 7 and let us know that the seller said no. Unless we didn't get an inspection. And we were like. Hmm that doesn't make us feel great. This is dumb it's off the market, what is a week going to hurt you for us to get an inspection. So after discussing it with Harold and taking his best judgement and advice we asked for a 5 day window for an inspection. And it took almost an hour of waiting. But they came back with a yes!

So now we have next week to get an inspection. Crazy. Absolutely crazy. Cutting it so close to Christmas for serious but like. What a Christmas gift it could be. And I'm trying to be realistic. Something could go wrong. But also it could be fine and great. And we could have the keys in hand by the middle of January. And then me and Jess go to Disney World to celebrate.

I am trying to be normal about everything but also it's so exciting but also never wracking. Dad called and it was exciting to hear them excited but also I'm trying so hard to not get my hopes to up so I don't become so sad. But also the day dreaming is so real.

I would take a shower and try to feel normal. My stomach is all in knots so that is tough. James sent a follow up email to Harold just so we know what we have to do and if we need to make the inspection appointment ourselves and if so if I need to be there. So many unknowns.

Now me and James are in bed. And Sweetp is running around being a baby criminal. And we are laughing about being poisoned by internet culture in very different worlds. And I feel happy and excited and nervous. Send good thoughts.

I am excited to have the day off tomorrow. I hope to clean and sew and wrap some Christmas gifts. I love you all. Goodnight!!

[vicwrites-and-acts]

Writblr Introduction

I've been on Tumblr for a bit now; mainly lurking on my other blog, until I decided i'd make a new one to actively engage in the community, and share what I am most passionate about. So here's my official introduction!

About me:

My name is Victoria, but most call me Vic, so I am fine with whatever you'd like as long as its not derogatory. I'm 24 and very unsure of where the future is going for me. She/her pronouns for me preferably, but I'd also answer to dude or bro, because it's a love language.

I'm a mom of three, so writing or engaging is sometimes limited to my free time. I'm American (I know, I know, how boring.) Kidding. Mostly. I'm also Neurodivergent, but that's probably pretty obvious.

I've been writing since I was eleven, and it's always been a major passion; there's just something so raw and real about storytelling, and I've always been a pretty immersive reader. The book just transforms on the page and I'm swept away into different worlds. Until recently, my writing has mainly been fanfiction. I found it so much easier than being confident in my own abilities as a writer, because the foundation was already laid before me.

I can almost never focus on one thing at a time. So you'll probably see me flip flopping around like a fish out of water.

I'm also an aspiring actress as well as an author. So you'll probably see some things related to that – I hope you don't mind. Some other interests include: Soap making, candle making, sewing, knitting, and Psychology!

Asks and tag list/tag games friendly!

Side note: I am not at all familiar with writblr/tag games at all so any tips is 100% appreciated. Always open to new friends as well!

I will more than likely use this blog for posting about my OC'S, my WIP's, aesthetics, moodboards, Playlists, poetry, and reblogging helpful writing tips, as well as reblogging and helping the writblr community.

ABOUT MY WRITING:

I enjoy reading/writing sci fi, dystopia, fantasy, and horror on occasion. My works will almost always have a romantic subplot because I am a smol hopeless romantic in a big, big world.

HUGE fan of redemption arcs. Yes, please. Give me the morally grey character who does awful things but in the end makes a huge turnaround and is just so chefs kiss

Some of my works will have triggering content, and it will be marked with trigger warnings when applicable.

Some fandoms I engage in and do writing in on my main blog @johnmurphysgirl is as follows:

LOST

The 100

Stranger Things

BBC Merlin

Jurrasic Park/World

There's probably more but my mind goes blank. Rip

My WIP:

Title: Tempus (subject to change/filler name)

Genre: Sci fi, dystopian, romance

(think Lost in Space meets Hunger Games: Catching Fire)

Current status: hahahaha panic induced screeching; chapter two is halfway finished, but I've been struggling with severe writers block for months.

POV: third person, eventual switching, multiple povs.

Plot: Scientists have always meddled in things they couldn't begin to understand; mixing viruses and making bio weapons in the same containment area as cures for all manner of ills. The scientist in question lets out a dangerous disease, a vampiric mutation called the NightWalker Virus.

Only a select few were chosen to go to the Odyssey; a space station that would lead them to safety on a newly discovered planet.

Eris Matthews is an unauthorized stowaway on the Exodus with her best friend Cashmere Moni, and the owner's son, Rhys Grey. The ship's capacity was only meant for four people, not six. They crash land onto their new home, far from the civilization they'd hoped to find.

They'd fled to the stars in hopes of salvation, only to find their new home riddled with demons and unanswered questions, betrayals, and it is not at all what it seems.

[vampirephlebotomy]

!!

For every !! I receive, I'll introduce you to one OC

As a note: I talk about body horror and bugs in the body akin to Jane Prentiss in TMA in this. I also talk about a weird fuckin' church in relation to this. Please be advised!

Chanti Hourle is one of my ceruleanblood trolls! He's a famous Alternian horror actor in both movies and in the occasional theater production, and is a former contortionist in a circus troupe. He's still a part of the old circus he used to travel with, and goes out there for things like holidays and holy days. The (shortened) name of his church is the Church of the Holy Rot. One of Chanti's extra cerulean eyes is on his tongue, and it very much adds to his appeal as a horror actor.

He met his matesprit, Xorsii Colett, (who's a director) through auditions they were holding for a horror film they were working on. Chanti's niche is clown horror and historical horrors on Alternia, and Xorsii was working on something a little more historical for their next film. Chanti is sort of how Xorsii's films (and the movies of the other directors in the studio they're a part of) started to get more traction because he's such a big name actor.

Later on in their lives, Chanti and Xorsii end up returning to Chanti's church to dodge conscription. Chanti, for a very long time, has known his church wanted him to become a replacement home for the lusii that live in what he eventually learns is Xorsii's ancestor. They view his lusus, a spider that reproduces much like the story "Spider Bite" from Scary Stories to Tell in the Dark, as a sign he is destined to become their new idol to worship. Xorsii's Ancestor is alive, in a sense, but her body has long since been taken over by the bugs that she and the rest of the church view as holy. He goes on to take her place, and Xorsii helps take care of him and stays by his side despite his distaste for the church and his ancestor.

As usual, I stuck his profile under the cut!

Name: Chanti Hourle (how-earl)

Pronouns: he/him

Bloodcaste: cerulean§true [#003F84]

Troll tag: opalescentCarnivore

Sign: Scoro [Derse/Heart]

Ancestors Title: Awakener Darkhell

Occupation: A very popular horror actor in both cinema and musical theatre

Strife specibus: Canekind + Parasolkind

Fetch modus: Weaver

Hive: A cozy little cabin, hidden in the woods

Lusus: Tunnelweaver

Descendants:

Lyonet Hourle

Quadrants:

Flush with Xorsii Colett

Pale with Avasaz Fetert

Interests: Lace making, Acting and singing, Sewing/Weaving/Knitting, Collecting old jewelry (specifically church-related items), Studying the church and its art, Antique and painting restoration

Quirk: Uses all sorts of scary and horror related puns, like "care" being turned into "scare", or "right" becoming "fright." Otherwise, he uses very proper grammar and syntax, including to abstain from using any form of contractions or shorthand.

(Would-be) Classpect: Muse of Heart

Three Bulletpoints:

• Welcome to the shitshow, shitlord

• He wishes it wasn't showbiz, baby

• Is free will really a thing, Archivist?

[biohazard-inevitable]

I think….

I think I was born to create.

It wasn’t something I immediately understood at first.

In fact, I didn’t like drawing at all when I was really little, I found it pointless and stupid because I wasn’t any good at it, though I still played with toys constructing detailed stories of drama and suspense and I stabbed sticks into muck to create grand structures, eventually evolving into sharpened traps once i learned how to sharpen sticks with a pencil sharpener.

I couldnt have been any older than 6 when my art teacher sat me down and told me that even something as simple as a bland, solid dot could be considered artwork. I of course didnt believe her, but still I tried a bit more in her class.

In that class I learned so many different ways to create from paper crafts to finger knitting to yarn bombing and leaf printing and paints and ink blots and charcoal and practically anything you could imagine.

About the time I was old enough to be given a recorder and learn notes, I began trying to create my own sounds, though I’m still not very good at that yet to this day.

I delved into an interest in film and animation once youtube became bigger, and it became one of my greatest fixations.

I joined the school’s robotics team at one point, starting with basic lego robotics and early programing and eventually trying out metal robotics in middle school, a location where my starts in poetry were sparked, leading to the strong writing style I have today.

Outside of school I did so many things, I would paint, draw, handwrote a retelling of the hunger games but with dragons, and even helped my father build things from concrete mixing to woodworking.

By high school, I had attempted to make my own fursuit, learning basic sewing in the process and even dabbling in the making of small pillows and plushies from scrap fabric and a sewing machine.

Nowadays, I currently am dabbling in learning how to make videogames through college classes that teach me some of the fundamentals, while self teaching myself pixelart and animation, and making a return to the music scene for a game I want to make, a culmination of everything I have learned and everything I will learn.

I can’t imagine life without creation, and so it makes me feel that I was born for this.

I was born to create.

And someday, my creations will be enjoyed by the world.

[faggotanachronism]

1 5 6 17 50 for everybody :3

:D this is a very good batch of questions thank you so much...!!!

1. Do they have any crafting hobbies?

Girl: she's tried knitting and sewing as well as book gilding recreationally but lost most of the time and focus for it after enveloping herself in academics and work..

They: possesses a penchant for technology (think along the lines of radio) and loves taking stuff like that apart and putting it together. also took a natural interest in plantlife under the circumstances of suddenly living in an icy wasteland with few readily available food sources. makes a lot of stuff (be it consumable or clothing) with the native species around where they took shelter

Milf: if you count "crafting" some unethical experiments and research then: yes. aside from that..? past experience with baking

5. Do they have any tattoos? If so what are they and do they have any special meaning?

G: extremely old and kinda fucked up stick n poke of a dragon on the forearm. eventually after she could get a real one there was an upper arm "even larks and katydids are supposed, by some, to dream." both mostly things she found cool; the shirley jackson quote spoke to her (looks left and looks right)

the other 2 existing don't have any but a character in developmental larva state does... woah

6. If they were badly injured, and for whatever reason couldn't go to a hospital, who would they go to for help?

G: out of anyone in the whole wide world... probably her first serious girlfriend. in an obsessive and sad sort of way

T: i honestlythink in most cases they would try to like lay down and die or ignore and wait it out somehow. but probably their older sister because they have an easier time communicating with her about themself than they do with a lawt of other people

M: her oldest son (who i'd say would be about 25?) she has not been able to share huge amounts of time or sufficient vulnerability with her children in years. she wouls like to

17. How easily would they be convinced to do something that goes against their morals?

G: outspoken but succumbs to peer pressure. if it's something extreme she will detatch herself from the situation but small things can be convinced with a little fighting

T: really does not get the point of doing things they don't want to do and so will be suuper staunch on things they explicitly stand against. would probably need to be exposed to the threat of, like, bodily harm at which point they are getting it done as quickly as possible

M: she would probably do anything if you could make her think it was funny or interesting enough

50. What is your favorite thing about them?

G: she's very genuine and passionate.. if u start talking to her about any of her subjects of interest she can carry that conversation without straining a back muscle

T: lives as authentically to themself as possible even though they have faced brutal treatment for that in the past. isolated but doesn't try pushing people away forever they know their limits but generally don't mind sharing certain spaces with others

M: has had a lifetime of empty nest syndrome. remains extremely forward and dedicated to her work and connections in spite (though partially because) of this