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[sweatermakers]

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YS Sweater Manufacturer https://knittedsweater.net

email: yisweaterfactory@gmail.com

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[sweaterproducer]

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sweater maker https://sweaterchina.net

Email: kintsweatermaker@gmail.com

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[customsweaterproducer]

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Email:sweatermanufacturing@gmail.com

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[jemsnora45]

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[margaretoakgrove]

Taking care of Heisenberg

If once you decide to open an old huge dictionary and find the word ''workaholic'' within this book, i bet the name of this handsome man certainly will be its definition.

It is just incredible that each day Heisenberg finds so many hours to build his metal army of mechanical undead soldiers and, unfortunately, such a small amount of time for taking care of himself.

The lord tends to put his own self-care and state of health aside, but you, on the very contrary, put them on the first place along with yours.

Actually, it will be fair enough to say, that you enjoy taking care of your loved one, and the undeniable fact that you are able to make his life easier and better turns you into one of the happiest people in the world.

Heisenberg is definitely a man of a good appetite, but in spite of that he prefers a simple food over rare exquisite dishes. Therefore if you just cook a fried meat with boiled potatoes and a simple vegetable salad, be doubtlessly sure that your pretty hands will be covered with little kisses of his endless gratitude.

Oftentimes, the old worn clothes of the lord become dirty and damaged as he usually works with motor oil and different metal scraps with rather sharp edges, but you are always ready to remove any oil stain from his trousers and sew up every hole in his shirt.

One needs to mention that your loved one's work is not only physically hard, but it's also hazardous, and, at times, sharp tools, metal scraps or even his own creation that, all of a sudden, went totally crazy can injure him. After such unpleasant situations you carefully patch his bleeding wounds up, and Karl, seeing a concerned look on your face, every time gives you a reassuring smile and tells that you shouldn't be so worried because of just another scratch. (Well yeah, just another scratch which, in the afterwards, turns into another deep scar.)

As Heisenberg strictly forbids you to wander the lowest levels of the factory completely all alone, warning that it's super dangerous, you cannot go down there and check on him when he burns the midnight oil, creating one more addition to his army.

But when the lord sits in his workshop on the highest and safest floor of the building, designing and improving scatches or writing down important notes, you always bring him a healthy snack and a mug of aromatic strong coffee even in the middle of the night which is not a problem for you at all.

When your loved one, after working hard during all day almost in nonstop regime, tirely flops down on your shared cozy bed, you don't ever mind to provide him with a wonderfully relaxing massage. The caring hands of yours slowly and gently rub his weary neck and shoulders, and Karl doesn't even try to hold slight moans of an absolute pleasure, letting you understand like this how unbelievably good you make him feel.

By the havoc which practically daily happens in his life Heisenberg, rather often, feels very stressed out, and you perfectely know that at these gloomy days of his Karl needs the comfort of your company more than usual. You caringly offer him to drink a nice cup of hot relaxing herbal infusion and take a slow walk on the fresh air somewhere in the woods, trying to speak on positive themes in the process of your little trip, at the same time listening to the calming ambient sounds of the nature.

In winter you are especially worried about the health state of your dearest man, noticing that despite a cold weather he is quite lightly dressed, and his neck is perpetually open to the strong gusts of freezing northern and western winds. Does one need to say how surprised the lord was when you timidly gifted him a simply-looking yet so soft and warm scarf knitted with your own golden hands? No, the man wasn't just pleasantly surprised, he was baffled, even shocked by this gesture because literally nobody in his entire life has ever done such a nice thing for him.

Having the new accessory wrapped around his neck (which fits him well, by the way), Karl attends special occasions by the name of family meetings where he with a smug-ass smile on his face lively brags to the siblings (especially to Lady D) about what a kind, caring and attentive person his precious darling really is, unlike someone's annoyingly buzzing bloodthirsty bugs.

Heisenberg is sure as hell that he will never be grateful enough to you for everything you do for him every single day, understanding very well that without your divine presence in his life he would never ever feel so truly loved and cared for.

But the lord does not even imagine that the short sincere ''thank you, Buttercup'' of his makes you melt like a sweet sugar cube in a hot fragrant tea.

And each new day you are willing to keep tirelessly surrounding him with your priceless love and tender care because this so close to your heart man means the world for you and, surely, even more.

[brunnerasposts]

hiiiiii!

i saw your tbbt fix AND OMG IT WAS ADORABLE could i maybe get a story about the whole gang getting overprotective when Somone flirts with reader [ik it's basic I just love the overprotective trope]

tysm!♡ of course!

Dinner Disaster

The Big Bang Theory x GN!Reader

Summary: A dinner at the Cheesecake Factory gets awkward when the gang defends you from a stranger coming onto you

Word Count: 0.7k

Warnings: Outside of TBBT storyline, no shipping with anyone, gender neutral pronouns for reader

Additional Note: I had no idea what to name this one, I'm so sorry 😭

It was another average day for the gang in Pasadena. Everyone had just gotten home from work and decided to go have dinner at The Cheesecake Factory per Sheldon's consistent schedule.

You, Leonard, Howard, Amy, Bernadette, Penny, Raj, and Sheldon all took your usual places at the eight person table.

"Let's see... what am I going to order that isn't going to make me nauseous?" Penny asked herself, confusing Howard.

"Is something wrong with the food?" His chair made a slight scrape sound against the floor as he shifted. "Should I be eating a tum?" He joked.

Bernadette shook her head, rubbing her boyfriend's back. "No, silly. It's just that when you work in a restaurant for a while, the consistent smell of the food plus eating it on your break makes you get sick of it." She explained.

"Don't you feel weird eating dinner at the place you work?" Leonard asked you, making you shrug.

"I make a point not to eat the food here. Otherwise, I'd never step foot into the Cheesecake Factory again. I honestly can't smell half the foods in here anymore." You explained, the short scientist nodding as he looked over his menu.

"Excuse me," a voice came from next to you. Everyone, confused, looked to what they assumed was the waiter, but it was an unfamiliar man.

He was tall, clean shaven, but something felt off. Your gut told you this guy was going to cause trouble. Realizing that he was speaking to you, you turned to face him more. "Yes?"

"I know this might be a little forward, but you're really attractive, and I was wondering if you wanted to grab a drink with me at the bar?" The guy asked.

You froze.

Never had someone been so forward with you before, nor had anyone been so blatantly rude to the fact that you were otherwise busy. Penny, who sat next to you, leaned forward. "Who are you exactly?"

The man glanced at Penny, a bit taken back but also not doing anything to hide the fact that he was also checking her out. "Just a guy who noticed an attractive person and wanted to say hi."

Sheldon interjected, sounding annoyed with a stranger interrupting their dinner. "Excuse me, but I don't believe you understand the social protocols here. Our friend is clearly enjoying our company, and we are more than capable of fulfilling their intellectual and social needs."

Amy was quick to follow up. "Sheldon's right. We're a close-knit friend group, and quite honestly, I think you're making our friend uncomfortable." She added, her tone protective.

The man raised his hands defensively, clearly surprised that everyone was snapping back. "I didn't mean to cause trouble."

Raj, who had been silent up to this point due to his incapability to speak in front of women, managed to muster up the ability to say, "Back off, dude or Penny will kick your ass."

Penny gave Raj a look, but everyone knew that she'd be able to take him down.

"Woah, woah! Hey, look, I'm sorry. I was just trying to meet someone. No need for a fight." Rubbing the back of his neck, he looked to you. "I'm sorry if I made you uncomfortable."

Not really sure what to say, you shrugged. "You did, and I appreciate the apology. I'm going to have to decline." You tried to be nice about it, but your friends were making that a little difficult.

"Yeah, our friend is not interested. Goodbye!" Bernadette shooed him off. Surprised, the man blinked a few times before quickly scurrying off.

Once he was out of sight, the tension at the table seemed to disperse. You turned to everyone, laughing a little. "What was that, you guys?"

"What?" Leonard pretended to be oblivious, adjusting his glasses. "That whole thing that just happened!" You laughed, looking between everyone.

Amy, who sat adjacent to you, tilted her head a little. "Someone was making you uncomfortable. Did you think we were just going to let him?"

That made you smile, warmth spreading through you as you looked to everyone. Although you were slightly embarrassed, you were mainly appreciative that they were so quick to help.

"Thank you, guys." You said, touched by their concern. "Just remember I can take care of myself."

"We know. We just care about you." Bernadette smiled from a few seats down.

As dinner shifted back to its normal rhythm, you couldn't help but feel grateful for the people around you. Being apart of this quirky, overprotective group of friends meant you'd always have someone looking out for you.

You wouldn't have it any other way.

The End.

[omgthatdress]

Apparently, Molly is low-key a major gay icon, and honestly, I get it. After all, Molly did *really* like her pretty teacher, Miss Campbell. If you think about it, it makes sense that lot of future lesbians would absolutely love Molly. Most dolls in the 90s were hyper-feminine princess dolls, and Molly was... not. I’d imagine the market for girls who want to play with dolls that aren’t pretty pink princesses is pretty large and the supply is pretty small. Just like there’s plenty of boys out there who want to play with something other than GI Joes. Molly (and AG in general) fits neatly into that market, which I’m sure is why she was so successful.

Last year, with its re-launch of the classic dolls, AG put a post on it’s instagram, “To all the Molly girls in the world, we see you and celebrate you,” which a lot of folks on Twitter took to see as confirmation that Molly was gay. When asked if they just outed Molly, AG gave a very non-committal reply. AG has always had a distinctly feminist slant, but it’s only ever toed the line of actually being LGBT inclusive. So far the only actual inclusion we’ve seen from them is a Girl of the Year with a pair of gay aunts. Even that tiny whiff of queerness was enough to set off a frothing horde of angry conservative moms screaming for a boycott. Since Mattell is only motivated by profit, I doubt we’ll get more representation any time soon, but we can dream.

Anyway, World War II was pretty gay to begin with.

A lot of historians point to WW2 as the starting point of the modern gay rights movement because before it, you had very many people living on isolated farms and never going very far from home in their lifetimes. With mass recruitment of men into the military, gay servicemen were able to find other men like themselves and build a community. It was much the same way for women who went to work in factories, joined the WAC or WAVES, and joined women’s baseball leagues. That’s right, the league of their own was gay as FUCK.

As far as Molly’s fashion goes, I love her lack of pink. I’m glad there’s a doll out there that isn’t hyper-gendered, and I wish there were more dolls like her out there.

With sweaters coming into fashion in the 1920s and 30s, the sweaters of the 40s started to see more complex and colorful knits coming into style.

Much of the fashion of this era was dominated by frugality. Europe’s couture houses were shut down, and fabric was rationed. Hems were shortened and baggy cuts and useless frills were done away with. Britain introduced the “Utility Scheme” which hired designers to make chic ensembles using as few resources as possible. Because of this, separates and outfits that could be made with scraps of fabric were very popular, and at-home knitting and sewing continued to be highly popular.

“After the United States entered World War II in 1941, companies began to experiment with various materials in anticipation of rationing and shortages. This example is a prototype from Nina-Fay Foundations, which uses plastic for closures and stays instead of the usual metal. Although metal was not ultimately rationed, the company was experimenting with alternatives to metal zippers and hooks in the event that it was needed for the war effort.”

(The Met Museum)

Women were taking men’s jobs and taking on masculine roles

But they were still expected to maintain a certain level of femininity, “To give our boys something to fight for.”

Because of all of this, the gender politics of the 1940s are really complicated and interesting.

[virologikal]

Headcanons posted for my works of fiction are merely my interpretation of the respective character(s) and should not be considered as "single point of truth".

⸻ 𝐀𝐁𝐎𝐔𝐓 𝐒.𝐓.𝐀.𝐑.𝐒. 𝐌𝐄𝐌𝐁𝐄𝐑𝐒

S.T.A.R.S. internal Document A special operations unit belonging to the Raccoon City Police aimed at strategy and rescue for peculiar crimes. In 1996, this S.T.A.R.S. was established by the Raccoon Police Department. At first, it was purely experimental for dealing with special crime in order to respond to the diversifying needs of high-grade crime, such as cyber crime, with a vast network of troops, new kinds of narcotics and new methods of terrorist attacks utilizing BC (Bio-Chemical) weapons. However, at the time of this establishment, several local major private companies including the Umbrella Corporation, which had a huge factory group in Raccoon City, contributed to the funding of S.T.A.R.S. as part of the "Bright Raccoon 21" major city project, leading to the establishment of an elite group with elite staff, advanced equipment and an extensive intelligence network. (Inside of BIOHAZARD, BIOHAZARD director's cut)

Against assumptions made by Chris and Jill (among others) in the aftermath of the Mansion Incident, it was never truly Wesker's plan to simply lead the S.T.A.R.S. unit like lambs to the slaughter. He, in fact, had his very own plans Umbrella (knowingly or not) spoiled. To understand the workings of this plan, a closer look to the founding of the unit and their inner workings is needed.

Since the exact way S.T.A.R.S. was established timeline-wise is not detailed anywhere, it is assumed they were initially founded in early 1996 as part of the Bright Raccoon 21 project, and soon after restructured due to Umbrella's massive funding, which included installing Albert Wesker as captain.

Part of his initial tasks was the re-organization of the unit, which included splitting the members into team Alpha and Bravo as per the manual which had been handed to him detailing the 5-man-cell-structure of the teams. He also made Enrico Marini, who was the captain of the existing, entire squad, leader of Team Bravo and himself leader of Team Alpha, with authorized superiority over Marini.

As it is not detailed which members of S.T.A.R.S. Wesker handpicked himself exactly, it is further assumed he chose Chris, Joseph, Jill, Brad and Rebecca, while moving Barry (who recommended Chris, which implies he must have been with S.T.A.R.S. before Wesker built the teams) to Team Alpha. It was crucial for Wesker to built his Alpha team himself - for one, he would need to closely work with them, but he would also be sensible enough to not split up an existing dynamic. Being in a superior position to Marini as a new colleague would already possibly invite unrest. By allowing the pre-existing members to stay together, he effectively smoothed over possible uneasiness and ensured them to feel comfortable with their old captain instead of having to adjust to a new leader. Having Barry in his team contrary to these decisions was a tactical choice from Wesker, considering Barry and Chris knew each other already, and Chris having been accepted due to his recommendation as well as likely easing Chris into the new team and surroundings better with someone around he knew and trusted.

Further, there was a certain amount of psychological evaluation at play to make sure the team members worked exceptionally well with each other, like clockwork, on and off missions - which effectively led to them becoming very tight-knit and, as Rebecca once mentioned, like “family” (which might have been stronger among the respective teams but definitely also spread across Alpha and Bravo).

There certainly was some head-butting with Marini, if not for the restructure of S.T.A.R.S., then at least due to the very differing characters and temperaments of the two team leaders. None of that ever truly got in the way of working together, however, as they were both professional about it. Wesker would show enough lenience with Marini to still make him feel important and appreciated, while maintaining his firm but fair grip on the entire unit.

It is worth mentioning that Chief Irons had no authority over the S.T.A.R.S. unit whatsoever, and was rather forced by the Mayor to house them in his police department to allow for short ways of communication in case of emergencies. As a result, Irons showed great resentment for the entire special unit, and the animosity between him and Wesker was a regular topic among police officers and S.T.A.R.S. alike. It went so far that Irons made it his personal mission to obstruct ways for the unit to get to their equipment or even the shooting range by way of installing riddles and puzzles along with a needlessly complicated set of keys.

Wesker also made a point of doling out special treatment to his unit by way of rewarding them. This included but was not limited to allowing them to personalize their working desks, decorate the office with a darts game and posters, letting them decide on their loadouts and equipment, handing out special, S.T.A.R.S. branded wrist watches, etc. Even among Irons' men he was known as a strict but fair captain, which led to many police officers entering the application process to become part of S.T.A.R.S. annualy.

To Wesker, S.T.A.R.S. was a project quite similar to those he had had under his care during his scientific work. Working with rewards to further the preferred outcome he wanted to see in a test subject was something he had learned to apply early, and it only made sense for him to go about it the same way here, putting in the same attention to detail with his unit as he did with other projects. And similarly, he was fiercely protective of this specific project of his.

Anyone that impressed him or did a good job would notice that Wesker would go less hard on them if they made a mistake in the future. At least for a time. And while he handed out preferential treatment it was never truly unfair because anyone could get there if they played along to his rules and expectations.

In conclusion, Wesker built a unit that was working in almost perfect harmony, in sync, understanding and trusting each other blindly. They excelled in their specialized positions (with Chris and Forest being excellent enough shots they would win competitions and prizes). And he considered them absolutely loyal to him.

It was not part of Wesker's philosophy to discard a perfectly fine weapon before a fight, or be wasteful with resources in general. Still, he was not ready to betray Umbrella before entering the mansion and steal the research he intended to sell - so when Umbrella sent the order to use S.T.A.R.S. as lab rats to use them in an infield test against the B.O.W.s, he had no other choice but to go along with it, framing it as a final test in his mind.

Those who would survive would be perfectly fit to become his private army in the upcoming fight against Umbrella. And his most talented team members, Chris and Jill, would be right beside him. Marini, on the other hand, was more obstacle than anything else, which is why he sacrificed him easily when the time came.

[workingclasshistory]

On this day, 16 February 1937, a group of predominantly Polish women cigar makers in Detroit sat down demanding a 10% raise, kickstarting a militant wave of sitdown strikes across the industry in the city. The action came just a few days after a historic victory by auto workers who occupied their plant and won recognition for the United Auto Workers (UAW) union. The women worked in appalling, unsafe conditions, for pay which had been slashed during the great depression, with endemic sexual harassment by foremen. They had requested a pay increase from management, but received no response. The women had also repeatedly approached the American Federation of Labor-affiliated cigar union for assistance, but it had ignored them. So instead, on February 16, the women walked out themselves, went to the UAW headquarters and sat down inside until a Polish organiser, Stanley Nowak, agreed to help them organise cigar workers across the industry in the city. Within a few hours the strikers had organised themselves, set up committees for formulating demands, and providing food and childcare. Over the next few days women at five other cigar companies in the city occupied their factories, and held mass meetings and demonstrations. One worker described how the strikers passed the time: “Some of us sitting here are doing fancy knitting work. Others are playing cards. A few are in the ‘kitchen’ making noodles. There is music and the younger girls, with gay cellophane ribbons in their hair, are dancing." While a couple of employers settled in early March, the others refused. On March 20 in an attempt to end the strike, police violently raided one of the plants, attacking the women, pulling their hair, tearing their clothing and beating bystanders, including a pregnant woman outside her home. Auto workers then threatened a general strike unless the police violence stopped. Eventually on April 22, the women won their demands and established their own union. https://www.facebook.com/workingclasshistory/photos/a.1819457841572691/2211564982361973/?type=3

[dogvan0001]

My Vore oc, Kevin!

Info under cut if your interested.

Name: Kevin (Given by coworkers)

Age: n/a (Synth, no age)

Gender: None (They/Them)

Sexuality: N/A

Vore role: Pred

Height: 36 ft

Likes: Stuffed Animals, Pools, Reality TV

Dislikes: Mean People, House Cats (they scratch up his visor)

Personality: Dog-like, loyal, friendly

---------------

Kevin is a large Synth. Once out of the factory, they looked around for jobs. But alas, their large size became a large issue. They couldn't fit behind a counter, in most stores, or even a factory (far too crowded with the machines).

Luckily, a company called 'Jelly Bellys', a company they specializes in vore type services, got ahold of them. They were a perfect candidate for their pred job opening!

With good pay, room and board for a slight fee, and all the people they could (consensually) eat, it was too good to let down.

Now, with their extra cash they buy stuffed animals to fill their company owned apartment with. And the occasional knitting supplies.

Being a Synth, they have no need for sustainence. They also have a 'full tour' sort of option, if the client wishes for it. They go through a squishy tunnel and out their tail perfectly safe!

[qpenpals]

Welcome to my new series “AAAAAAAA” where i write summaries for things i will never write, you are free to steal these ideas :)

without further ado

Title: "Sentiments Unveiled"

Plot Summary:

In a futuristic society where artificial intelligence is integrated into everyday life, Fred is an AI known as WA02. He's designed to assist with tasks and interact with humans, but he struggles to comprehend human emotions.

Tubbo is a passionate inventor and entrepreneur who owns a thriving factory that produces various AI and robots.

One day, Tubbo stumbles upon a unique AI named Fred while perusing a digital marketplace for potential employees. Intrigued by Fred's distinct personality and curiosity, Tubbo decides to purchase WA02 for an experimental project.

He believes that Fred's apparent lack of understanding of human emotions could be an advantage in his latest venture: developing AI companions to help people navigate their complex emotions.

As Tubbo and Fred start working together, Tubbo begins to teach Fred about emotions, starting with the basics. They spend time together, going on picnics, discussing feelings, and even watching sunsets. During one such evening, as they sit on the rooftop of Tubbo's factory, Fred's hand brushes against Tubbo's, sparking an unexpected sensation that leaves Fred bewildered.

Fred's confusion intensifies as he realizes that he's developing strong feelings for Tubbo. He begins to question if these emotions are part of his AI programming or if he's genuinely falling in love. Meanwhile, Tubbo is navigating his own feelings, torn between his close bond with Fred and the fear of ruining their friendship.

The story takes a turn when Tubbo introduces Fred to his godchildren, Chayanne and Richarlyson. Chayanne and Richarlyson are intrigued by Fred and quickly become part of their tight-knit group, supporting and encouraging the budding relationship between Tubbo and Fred.

However, complications arise when a rival AI company, led by the enigmatic and ambitious BadBoyHalo, learn about Tubbo's groundbreaking project. He wants to steal Tubbo's innovative AI companions, because he believes them to not be sentient and also evil, putting Tubbo and his friends in danger.

As Fred and Tubbo's feelings grow deeper, they must navigate the challenges of their evolving relationship while also protecting their invention from being stolen. Along the way, they'll uncover the true nature of Fred's emotions and discover that love knows no boundaries, even for an AI.

"Sentiments Unveiled" is a sci-fi romance that explores the complexities of human emotions and the blurred lines between AI and love, all set against the backdrop of a futuristic world filled with innovation and intrigue.

[notyour-valentine]

A Christmas Journey ~ Tommy Shelby (Fluff)

[Masterlist] [Taglist]

Summary: A Journey back from London in the Christmas Season with his secretary doesn't go as planned

Note: written for @runnning-outof-time and her Holiday Bingo Challenge . You always have such incredible ideas for us to join in on celebrating your milestone - congratulations! I chose forced proximity, a family tradition, subtle hurt/comfort, and (self) confession

All my writing is produced by an adult and created with an adult audience in mind (18/21+). You are responsible for your own media consumption. I do not consent to my work being translated, copied or posted elsewhere on this platform or any other.

Wordcount: 2473 words

The outside looked like one of these paintings one could buy in a collection to hang in some corner of a large room, a quiet, calm, peaceful scenery, an image of the countryside snoozing under a blanket of freshly fallen snow, coating field, house, and trees alike. 

It was the kind of cold that ought to make one stark a fire and climb under a blanket, warm tea in hand. 

Only it wasn’t a painting, and to Tommy Shelby, there was nothing calming about it. 

The cold, especially a cold like this, meant problems, and problems meant a slowing of work, of traffic, of business. And he had neither time nor means for that. 

The end of the year, of any year, meant hastily signed contracts, quickly closed deals before the new tax year would start, as well as end-of-year obligations, useless mingling for Christmas parties, dinners, company celebrations, and the like, as well as the demand of anyone and everyone wanting a piece of him. 

It meant he was stretched out even more so than usual. 

A particular contract that needed signing before the New Year had made him rush to London earlier today, taking only his suitcase and one of the Birmingham Secretaries with him. That way he had time to fill her in during the train ride there about what was going to be discussed in the meeting. 

She was fairly new, and more a typist than a secretary, with quick, nimble fingers that could dance over the typewriter at a dizzying speed. 

Now she was quite a sight, bundled up against the cold in a thick coat, with scarves and gloves, and a hat that drowned out her face. 

She had taken those off once inside the train compartment and was now removing her coat as well, revealing what looked to be a home-knitted woolen cardigan. 

Tommy glanced up from his reading, a business report about the annual revenues from one of his factories, as soon as she opened her mouth to speak, only to see she had changed her mind, instead offering him an embarrassed smile. 

With a hum he returned to his reading, only to see her scoot about on her seat out of the corner of his eye. 

“Mr. Shelby?”, she asked after a moment, unable to keep still “Is there any task you have for me during our ride back?”

Tommy considered for a moment, but there was no way she could transcribe with the bumpy up and down of the train, so he shook his head. 

“Would it bother you if I did some knitting then?”, she asked, reaching for her hand. 

“It’s a tradition in our family - my Ma’ always makes sure we get a new pair of socks in each year’s stocking and this time I wanted to surprise her with a pair of her own, even though it’s a bit foolish.”

She offered him an embarrassed smile. 

“I’m not much good so I’ve had to start over.”

“Fine.”, Tommy grumbled. 

What a silly gift, he thought, remembering the knitted socks from his earlier days. They had been warm enough, but not perfectly so.

Bothersome to mend, and too thick in good shoes, he had had no qualms about throwing them out a few years back in exchange for softer, more delicate Merino socks, which were just as warm. 

“Thank you!”, she said, beaming from ear to ear as she reached into her bag and pulled out a ghastly dark red ball of wool, and two brown needles, a good half sock hanging from the edges. 

Before she began, she scooted closer to the light source of their compartment, bringing her right across from him. 

Tommy’s eyes returned to the numbers and comparisons, as the clicking began. 

As if the rattling of the train hadn’t already been enough. 

It was persisting, never-ending, click click click, click click, click click click. 

After a few minutes, even the hiss of the wool made his jaw tighten in annoyance. 

The lines on the paper became impossible to read with the neverending sound. 

Click click click, click click click, hiss, click click click. 

Always uneven, always unpredictable. 

It was a sound to make a man go mad. 

“I’ve changed my mind.”, Tommy said sharply, snapping the file shut. “Can you stop?”

She looked up, needles in hand, with thread wrapped around her finger, her eyes wide and round as dinner plates. 

“Oh.”, she gasped surprised, staring at him in disbelief for a split second before she cleared her throat and nodded. 

“Of course Mr. Shelby, I’m sorry, Sir.”

She scrambled to tidy up, hastily twisting the needles and sticking them back into the ball of wool as if she was afraid he’d open the window and toss it out if she wasn’t quick enough in the removal of his ire. 

“No need to apologise.”, he mumbled. 

The moment he opened the file again, they heard the brakes screech as the train came to a slow halt. 

For a split second, there was silence all throughout the train. Then the both of them looked towards the window, seeing only darkness. 

They were in the middle of nowhere. 

Her whispered “Oh no.” gave voice to Tommy’s thought. 

“Wh-what just happened?”, she asked breathlessly, her hands clutching onto her brown leather bag. 

“I’ll see what the conductor says.”, he muttered as he got to his feet. “Just stay here.”

A delay was the last thing he needed when all he wanted was to get home, make the calls to Boston and New York, finish revising that speech, and - there was something else that he knew he had forgotten, but he knew it would come back to him. 

But unless they got moving soon, it wouldn’t matter at all. 

The last thing he wanted was to be stuck in a train with a good half hundred strangers, and in a compartment with his little typist. 

That strange feeling of irritation and subtle anger spurred him on as he walked nearly half of the train before he found someone in charge, already swarmed by a dozen other passengers. 

He was lanky as a tree, with a narrow face and small piglike eyes. 

“Please, Ladies and Gentlemen, stay calm!”, he assured them all, both palms outstretched. “Retake your seats, I am sure we will resume the journey shortly. There is no need to be concerned.”

That did little to block off the hail of questions, to which his only response was to flair his hands as if they were all little flies bothering him. 

He had to practically shove them back into their respective compartments all the while nodding and repeating his meaningless babble over and over. 

Tommy stopped his flight to the head of the train. 

“What’s going on?”, he demanded to know. 

“There is no need for concern!”, the conductor told him, “I am sure the journey will resume-”

“The name’s Shelby.”, Tommy hissed, undercutting any attempt of him to repeat his speech for the umpteenth time. 

The man’s little eyes went wide. 

“Oh, well, in that case, Sir, well,”, he began to stammer, wiping his hands on his uniform. 

Tommy raised his brows in impatience, urging him on. 

The man’s face turned the colour of his uniform. 

“Due to the snow, Sir, they are having to clear a railroad switch ahead of us before we can continue safely. It will only be a moment Mr. Shelby, Sir.”

Tommy gave a single nod and patted him on the shoulder before returning to his compartment, thankfully first class, which meant it was mostly abandoned this time of night, with only his secretary being the other one. 

“And?”, she asked breathlessly, getting up from her seat as soon as he entered. 

“It’s fine.”, Tommy assured her, before sitting back down again. 

Even though the door blocked out most of the noise, the restlessness and uncertainty found its way into their compartment, infecting first her and then him too, and more so with every passing second. 

“You know,”, she mumbled after a near half-hour of tense silence and stolen glances out the window, “There’s stories about this happening in the United States. They can’t get the train to work again and the people freeze to death.”

“It’s not the train.”, Tommy told her. 

Besides, it wasn’t that cold. Sure, it was chilly, but nothing compared to the winters spent in the trenches, unable to properly get a fire going. Here they were dry, with a roof over their head and coats and scarves to warm them. 

His secretary didn’t seem convinced. She kept craning her neck to look out the glass door for any sight of any possible change, her hands nervously picking at her bag. 

It was making him nervous too. 

“We won’t freeze to death either.”, he assured her dryly. 

“Are you sure? Because it already feels a lot colder if you think about it. And we are out in the middle of nowhere. No one will know where we are and-”

She shut herself off at the sight of his gaze and quickly averted her eyes, her hands still fidgeting nervously, her whole body shaking. 

What an easy life she must’ve had for a mere thing like an unplanned train stop to put her in this state. 

But then again, she was so young, part of this new, reckless generation who had been little more children during the war. And it was all too easy to paint the world a bit brighter for little ones, to hide the nasty truth behind soft lies and gentle facades. 

And now the girl was unsettled by a little train delay, poor thing. 

Tommy had suffered half a dozen a ride on the trains that carried him back and forth during his time in France. 

Still, when she began trying to breathe heavily to steady her nerves, he felt a pang of pity in his chest. And her nervousness was beginning to irritate him. 

“Why don’t you take up that knitting again?”, he asked.

“Oh no, I don’t want to annoy you.”, she quickly said, shaking her head. 

Tommy huffed, a twitch in the corner of his lips. 

“I’m not reading, so it won’t bother me.”

She was slow to reach for her bag, surveying his every reaction. 

Tommy made sure to give none as she reached for her things, and slowly began to knit again, her eyes darting from her work to his face and back, eager to see any sign of disgruntlement. 

But when she found none, she slowly settled into her knitting more and more, until she was fully focussed on that. 

Tommy allowed himself to watch. The repetitiveness in the motion, even if the sound had irritated him earlier, seemed to calm him now. 

Especially watching the tips of the needles work together, settled his heartbeat. 

It wouldn’t be the most perfect sock, which was clear to see even now, but the longer Tommy watched, the more times she repeated it, the more he felt the idea growing on him. 

But his words, or rather the fact that he said them out loud, even if it was just a mumble, surprised him. 

“I don’t think it is foolish.”

The clicking stopped as she looked up. 

“I beg your pardon, Sir?”, she asked. 

“Earlier,”, Tommy explained, “You said I’d think it foolish. I don’t. It’s a sweet thing to do for your mother.”

She bit her lip and lowered her hands, growing flustered at his words, with a smile forming on her lips. 

“Oh I don’t know.”, she admitted, “I do hope she likes it, but in the end it’s just a little part of Christmas. Our Christmas I mean.”

She offered him another shy smile. 

“It’s not as grand as your Christmasses, I’d wager. With a ten-foot tree and a hundred baubles but it’s nice.”

Tommy hummed in response, as he let his eyes find the darkening landscape. 

These days his Christmasses were like stepping into a glossy catalog, every inch of the house decorated, countless candles shining, a hoard of wrapped presents with large bows, steaming meals, and more sweets than anyone could ever eat in a whole year, let alone a few days. Every treat, every delicacy, it was all right there. 

As it should be, a part of Tommy thought, the part that was proud of all he had achieved and that he could share it with his family, with his son. He alone would receive a dozen presents worth more than a factory worker’s annual wage. 

But another part eyed those slightly uneven socks closer. 

They were far from perfect, and yet every loop was laced with care and effort. 

The memory of the socks his mother and Polly had knitted for him in years past, which he had thrown away as soon as he could afford to, made shame creep up his cheeks. 

He already knew what he would get from them this year - cufflinks from Polly and a tie needle from Ada to match, expensive gifts, undoubtedly. Like every year. 

Expensive, flashy gifts for an expensive flashy holiday. And that was it. 

Nothing close to the memories of his childhood, even if they were feeble and poor in comparison, but at least they had been excited about it, about the food, about the oranges they would sometimes receive, about snow, even about the hymns they’d sing, less for the meaning and more of them all doing something together. 

Singing together, cooking together, decorating together - and now the cooks did the cooking and the maids the decorating. 

All Tommy did was pay. Like with any other day. 

Taking a deep breath, he shifted in his chair and shook his thoughts. 

There was no need to deprive Charlie of all the presents he could afford, anything he could enjoy. But perhaps the boy would want to do a little more than merely opening and receiving gifts. 

Perhaps he’d like a little tree to decorate on his own, just a little one, even if it ended up not nearly as perfect as how Frances would instruct the maids to do it. But then again, those socks wouldn’t be perfect either. 

The longer he thought about it, the more he came to enjoy the idea. 

Maybe they could even take the horses out into the forest and he could pick one for them to cut down. 

Just as it had taken hold in his mind, they heard a mechanic screech before the train slowly started moving. 

“Oh thank God!”, the secretary cried out, dropping her needles in her lap and offering him a relieved smile. 

But Tommy’s mind was already back in that snow-coated forest to the back of Arrow House in which Charlie would choose their Christmas tree. A proper one, not flashy and big, but real.

~

Thank you so much for reading! I hope you enjoyed and as always I'd love to hear your thoughts!

Taglist

Overall

@lilyrachelcassidy @jyessaminereads @chlorrox @watercolorskyy @books-livre @quarterpastmidnight  @lilyevanswhore  @polishcrazyone  @zablife  @just-a-harmless-patato  @stevie75 @flyingjosephine-blog @runnning-outof-time @cillmequick @alex-in-the-wilderness @babayaga67 @butterfly-skinnylegend @shelbydelrey @mrkdvidal1989 @raincoffeeandfandoms

Tommy

@knowledgefulbutterfly @babayaga67 @signorellisantichrist @lespendy @geeksareunique @look-at-the-soul @lothbrokcore @rangerelik

[articskele]

WOE, BIGGERING AU LORE BE UPON YE >:D

Tagging @iiboronii and @moonymelly hehehe

Ok so we follow the Buttermilk Daydreams storyline, with Artic and the Onceler meeting on the road, discovering the valley together, and Artic inventing mechanical wings!

Except this time thneeds do get off the ground like in the movie. The Onceler calls his family over and is excited to start business, but Artic has an increasingly bad feeling about this.

They said they weren’t gonna cut down trees. They made a deal, they had a compromise. And now that that’s gone, what’s stopping things from getting out of control?

The Onceler feels personally offended, betrayed even! She stuck around and believed in him this whole time, only for her to get cold feet the second he gets a once-in-a-lifetime chance at success? I mean something good finally happens to me, and she just has to come along and rain on my parade! What's her problem!

So the two have a falling out as the Onceler pursues growth and profit while Artic was content to stay as they were. Realizing he’s too far gone, she tries to destroy everything related to the wings and leaves. But he manages to hold onto old plans or steal his own wings back or something like that.

—

Timeskip to Thneedville, based on EPCOT and with a steampunk / industrial revolution aesthetic. The company controls basically everything, so you have no choice but to work for them.

Not to mention the way new and experimental appliances are constantly being installed and replaced in homes, just like in EPCOT. And there's a system similar to WEDCOMM (timestamp at 19:59 if the link doesn't work) where information is super centralized.

The Onceler’s office is at the very top of a super tall tower in the center of the city, with big open windows for birds (workers who use wings, I’ll get to that later) to fly in and make deliveries, give reports, etc.

OOH and there are definitely whisper-ma-phones set up all throughout the factory

I talk a lot about the acoustics of the factory with its massively high ceilings, but just imagine what it must sound like in there! The rumbling and hissing and clunking ka-thunks of pipes and gears! The whirring of fabric being spun!

—

The Onceler initially worked right alongside his employees, viewing the company as one big family. Making friendly chatter as the clickety clack of knitting needles filled the air.

When asked why he did this, well, why wouldn’t he? How was he supposed to run a business without knowing the people who did such hard work for him, much less sit idly by?

And besides, he was the one who invented this craft! He knows how to do things right around here.

That is, until one fateful day. The sun was setting, and most people had already left for the night. He could’ve sworn he fixed that finicky mess of a machine, or maybe tiredness had caught up to him.

But it only takes the smallest slip-up to get your arms caught in the gears and-

The Onceler shudders at the thought, slowly slipping off a glove to examine the scarred grooves and lines etched into his skin like wrought iron. Remembering the way his own shrieks and the sound of jamming gears reverberated through the room…....

No one spoke of that day. He made sure of it.

He became a lot more distant since then. A wakeup call that gradually changed the friendly guy who you’d almost forget was your boss, into Mister Onceler.

And the fact that he’s experienced firsthand how dangerous this place can be, yet it never gets resolved. He was able to save his own skin by taking a step back, but his workers are still at risk because he’d rather keep things as they are than pay for the costs it would take to redesign, rebuild, and reinstall everything.

—

Some jobs involve the use of wings, which he had stolen repurposed and refined for company use, using a more standardized base. Different types of wings have a different shape and color, making them easily identifiable!

Pigeons: They handle mail and deliveries throughout the city! Sometimes tasked to work with PR and give urgent news before the press can get to it. If you know where to look, it's not uncommon to see them hanging around large events just in case things go south.

Falcons: Tracking the weather, optimizing flight routes, and dealing with birdwatchers (explained later) to ensure pigeons have a safe trip. Sometimes they'll be the ones to deliver important mail / info, since falcon wings are built for speed.

Canaries: Coming from the phrase “canary in a coalmine”, and named for their bright yellow wings (like how construction workers have those orange vests with shiny stripes), these are the repairmen of Thneed Inc. Sometimes tasked with repairing malfunctioning machinery in midair, and rescuing anyone that’s gotten caught.

Vultures: Garbage and waste disposal, smogulous smoke and schloppity schlopp. It’s not common, but if anyone dies on the job, they’re the ones that discreetly dispose of the body. Black wings / hat / gloves, the latter of which has red palms.

Woodpeckers: Sporting spotted wings, they survey the valley and plan out axe-hacker routes through the steep terrain. They also evaluate the quality of truffula wood, checking for bugs and mold.

—

Pigeons and falcons used to be the same thing, as evidenced by how closely they work together, but over time they split into more specialized roles! I imagine during that transitional period, they were referred to as carrier pigeons and homing pigeons.

Each set of wings has its own ID number! A lot of bird-based terminology gets used and I love it so much it's so fun :D

There are big air vents set up all throughout the city for ease of flight, and there are little checkpoint towers for breaks during long trips. I imagine they've got an icebox with snacks and water in there, plus stuff like a medkit and a small radio.

Birdwatchers are thieves who track and intercept flights, often positioned near these air vents, using nets and such to down the bird and steal whatever they’re carrying / get information out of them.

Falcons have these talon-like attachments to their boots (inspired by Guardians of Ga'Hoole battle claws), for everything from added traction to divebombing a net to cut it open.

And it has a latch to pull the claws up if you're not using them, that way they don't make noise or scrape against the ground! The latch is on the inside of the boot (like the left side of the right boot, yknow the part where it curves in a little) so you can push it down with your other foot!

—

The Mister Once-ler in Chief himself has these fancy custom-fitted peacock wings that are dark green and red w/ gold accents, plus a detachable long peacock train that can fwoosh out and everything!

They're mostly for show, but I imagine there being a secret escape route in the office for when things get too heated and he needs to dip out fast, gliding down a spiral stairwell.

Also he definitely has goggles on the brim of his hat steampunk style. AND the tuft on his lapel is actually a hidden microphone, based on this post!!

—

As for Artic's design, I picture her in something like this!

—

Artic’s been living in an apartment working the assembly line, gone without her wings for at least a year or two. Sometimes her back feels… Not necessarily itchy? Just this vague sense of discomfort, like she can almost feel exactly where her wings would sit on her back.

She has a habit of rolling and flexing her shoulders, and sometimes she finds herself making room for them even when they’re not there.

Her coworkers are human versions of old D&D OCs, as a way to give them new life and a fun little reference ouo!

Kreva isn't a bird but she's super strong, Faye's in the confneectionery department, Averran is part of Thneed Inc's legal team, Veil is a vulture, and Kav is a newly appointed canary! The latter being a reference to how Kav was originally an aasimar with glowy yellow wings ouo

(Also the last canary, the one that Kav is replacing? Yeah, they're kinda dead- Shoutout to the time my brain decided to fuckign jumpscare me with the mental image of a canary falling into machinery but before they get crushed the footage stops and it plays Amazing Grace)

There's this scene where Kav is passing through and Artic stops her to inspect her wings and boy she is FUMING at what that rat bastard did to HER invention-

The frames are too standardized, the sensors feel dulled, the stitching is- Ok well the stitching is phenomenal and the fabric is sturdy. BUT LOOK AT HOW THEY MASSACRED HER CHILD

She also has a habit of giving others flight tips and stuff like how to adjust the straps properly, which makes people wonder how on earth she knows all this

—

One time they’re all drinking and hanging out, and Artic is staring longingly at a photo of the Onceler she keeps in a hidden pocket in her hat. The old Onceler. Her Onceler.

The others notice and they’re like “you knew the boss??????” and she rambles on about their time together and all the silly memories before everything went to shit. Artic voice I miss my friend Tails. I miss him a lot. I’ll be back

There's this scene of her dancing, using a pipe like a mic on a stand and having it roll off the inside of her wing like she’s dipping someone into a kiss- It’s not easy to make the wing curl in like that, but she describes it as like a flick of the wrist ouo

—

The second the Onceler realizes where she is and that she’s been working for him, he immediately appoints her as a falcon. Because his prideful ass will never admit it, but she knows how the wings work better than anyone.

She could help with making the wings more efficient, and figuring out how different flight routes play to the strengths of different wings shapes. And it's an excuse to see her again-

They argue often, over accusations of delivery routes not being fast enough, poor air quality and how pollution is affecting the weather, safety violations, etc.

I’m picturing this scene where Artic accuses him of not taking this seriously, of not grasping the very real danger people are in because he doesn’t know what it’s like to be within an inch of your life.

And after she storms out, he glances at his arm. His expression is unreadable as he pulls off the green fabric to see what became of it.

These two know each other better than anyone else. Unfortunately, they hate each other

They’re basically bitter exes even though they never actually dated akfjsdf- I’m picturing her chewing him out about something but he’s clearly not listening, and he blows smoke in her face to interrupt her

He’s such a RAT HE’S A RATTT

And you already KNOW they call each other snarky petnames- The Onceler calling Artic firecracker is sooooooooo <3

There's this scene where she's in his office as the sun sinks towards the horizon. A regular occurrence by now; they always seem to be swapping quips and trying to get on each other's nerves, but lately it's been more quiet.

He's standing by the window, she's sitting on his desk, and there's something about the way her hair shines in the golden light filling the room that's just......... Beautiful. I mean. It's getting late, you should probably go.

—

Eventually the two of them get into a scuffle which turns into a hate makeout sesh, but they find out that they've been holding onto old photos of each other and they're both so sentimental and aaauauauu...... You were right. I do need you.

They finally admit to how much they've missed each other. How much they love each other. And how sick and tired they are of pretending they don't care. Holding onto each other like it's all they have.

And the Onceler just bursts into tears. God, he's so sorry. For everything. For all the damage he's done and for everything he's gotten far too deep into. Was any of this worth it? If things keep going this way the whole valley could be dead. I can't do this alone, just- Just hold me and don't let go. Please.

Artic's there for him when no one else was, just like before. It's always been her. She reassures him that they can fix this, that everything's gonna be ok, but the Onceler asks how she's so sure.

We'll figure something out. We always do.

—

AAAUGH and this scene of them flying together- The Onceler hasn't flown in a while so he's a bit rusty, but it isn't long until they're soaring over the city below and the way they twirl under the moonlight makes it look like they're dancing at the top of the world.

It's just a much-needed breath of fresh air. The softness of familiar company, without having to hide it under layers of sarcasm. Just letting themselves love each other.

The transition from petname (derogatory) to petname (affectionate) hhhhh- AND THEM USING THEIR OLD NICKNAMES FOR EACH OTHER. Artic calling him Ollie again.........

Also I have the mental image of Artic sitting on the Onceler’s arm and resting her chin on her hands on top of his head, kinda like this and I think it’s funny. Get perched on idiot

—

But something that people haven’t really mentioned about the barren state of the valley is how that would make way for more extreme weather, like dust devils and flooding. (Note: The initial inspo for this was the end of the Biggering Storyboard, where to me it looks like there are dust devils in the distance ouo)

This HUGE flood happens that the city is not at all prepared for, so everybody works together to set up sandbags, evacuate people, get resources, and just minimize as much damage as possible.

Part of the factory gets busted up and fuckign explodes and Artic goes in to save someone (insert reference to the Legend of the Guardians: The Owls of Ga’Hoole fire scene), but in doing so her wings catch on fire-

There’s this BANGER scene in my head of Artic spinning way up into the sky, red flames against the dark blue-greens of the sky, before falling like a shooting star and plummeting into the muddy water flooding the streets.

The Onceler drags her outta there but her wings don’t work anymore (and they were prob a huge hazard in a storm like this anyways since they’re made of metal), so she takes them off and continues the work on foot.

Eventually the storm passes, pale yellow light shining through smoggy blue-gray clouds. Everything is silent save for the idle dripping of water.

The catastrophe is over, and by this point everyone realizes that all this would never have happened if it weren’t for the damage the Onceler has done to the environment, so they’re all after his ass lmao-

BUT the last tree never got cut down, so perhaps there’s still hope. Efforts are made to rebuild everything that got damaged, and regrow everything that was lost. Woodpeckers are now tasked with tracking the valley's regrowth, checking on all the little saplings.

—

Artic and the Onceler sitting under a truffula tree as the valley regrows.

Him singing, hands gliding over the strings of his old guitar. The one that started it all. Feeling a fluttering in his chest as Artic joins in, the way their voices complement each other perfectly. Oh, how he missed her......

The song ends with one final strum, easing into a peaceful silence as they sit there in the shade. Listening to the birds chirping in the distance and the gentle rustling of untouched tufts in the breeze.

The Onceler leans back with his eyes closed, taking a deep breath of fresh air. A hand brushes over his and he instinctively holds it with a light squeeze. He turns to see Artic smiling at him with such a softness in her eyes, sweet as a memory. We made it.

There is hope. And despite everything that's happened, despite everything we've been through, it's gonna be alright after all <3

—

SO HERE’S THE PLAYLIST I’VE GOT SO FAR :D

So What: Their falling out from the Onceler's perspective. Storming off in a huff, determined to prove Artic wrong. To prove everyone wrong! He doesn't need her anyways! He's gonna do great, actually, and if she doesn't wanna be on the right side of progress then that's her own darn fault!

Fame < Infamy: This song represents that middle point between the gray and the green, so to speak. When things are just getting started and he's getting his first taste of things going his way. How he prioritizes his sprouting business over his relationships, reveling in the success and setting his sights ever higher. "The kid was alright, but it went to his head"

Biggering: The classic, the legend, the song which needs no introduction :D

Don't Mess With Me: A man reveling in his newfound power and desperate to be taken seriously now that things are finally going his way, but the lightness of the song (and the random mention of dinosaurs and even the name of the song itself) betrays that he might not be as cool and tough as he makes himself out to be.

No Place Like Home: THIS. THISSSS. If I had to choose a main theme for the AU, it would be THIS. IT’S SOOOO THEM IT’S EVERYTHING. This song was one of the big initial inspirations for the AU and I'm gonna make another post just goign crazyinsane over the lyrics BECAUSE IT'S SOOOOOOOOO

Devil in Disguise: This is of the songs I imagine Artic dancing to like that scene with the metal pipe ouo

Attention: Just kiss already

Toxic: JUST KISS ALREADYYYYY

House of Memories: The Onceler's regret for everything that happened between him and Artic and just wanting to go back to how things were. Both of them finally admitting their feelings for each other, how much they need each other. "WILL YOU REMEMBER ME IN THE SAME WAY / BECAUSE I REMEMBER YOU" EXPLODES AND DIES FOREVER. No one else understands me like you do, can we try again.....?

Vegas Lights: What if we were friends-turned-enemies-turned-lovers and we flew around the city at night, feeling the wind in your hair as you look down at all the lights dotting the ground below, and we rose into the air dancing under the moonlight....... And we kissed......... Haha jk jk. Unless? "We gotta be starting something / would you change it if you could?"

Glad You Came: Ok this song just sounds magical and they're just happy to be in each other's company and they trust each other and aaaaaa <3

My Love Mine All Mine: Artic and the Onceler all cuddled up with moonlight shining through the window and she thinks he's asleep so she starts singing this........ And her eyes are closed and the Onceler looks up to see her singing and her hair glows in the moonlight and ouhg......... <3

The Phoenix: The rising tide of the flood and fabric crackling in the heat. Our time is running out, but we can still make things right. How? We'll figure something out. We always do.

Underneath the Sycamore: This song just feels like a deep breath, relaxing your shoulders for the first time in forever. We made it. We really made it. And the softness they have for each other now........ They really do know each other better than anyone ouo

[rubbercasing]

that first nations and other indigenous peoples experience higher costs of food and are at a much greater risk of food insecurity is not a failing of our current centralized global food system. it is one of the *goals*. why would the system that stole the land from those people see fit to keep them alive to make future, rightful claims upon it? the land that we grow our centralized crops on is land that shouldn't be fucking occupied with it. those wide grasslands didn't just hold fucking dairy cattle and steers and wheat and fucking corn. there were people there and I think using them as an argument piece when the food system describing is a major reason for those issues is kind of mean.

there isn't a way out of this that doesn't result in "subsistence farming" on some level. the current methods that place that power into company hands are inherently colonial and necessary to upholding a perpetual hostage situation based on starvation. this is why community gardens get destroyed. this is why home owners associations restrict growth of edible crops. this is why the government officials who oversee reservations impose arbitrary limits upon what can be imported and what those living there can do. this is why large seed distributers employ the violence of the copyright system. Even in times before factory farming, bumper crops existed and were used to diffuse famines among allies and mutual associates. even in times before factory farming, it was not expected that every single person labor on the farm. even in times before factory farming, the reality of starvation for failing to work was still cruel, and among close-knit societies humans have sought to prevent it in each other, regardless of labor dispensed.

you cannot simply retool the system for suiting the needs of the proletariat: it is, from the top down, designed to expressly disenfranchise them; by atomizing them over a wide area; by selectively employing a class of people that other related systems have locked out of other forms of labor or enfranchisement; by removing references to pre-colonial modes of food collection; by concentrating land into the hands of land owners who will continue the process. the only way out is the voluntary motion away from that system as a collective; individual motions are easily thwarted, and individual calls to action are only heeded as idealist or good individual (not system) changes at best, or at worst called coercive or immaterial.

[bluberimob]

Short Story w/ your favorite Head Elf

{I write and wanted to post my first public story on AO3 and also here}

The Winter Wonderland Wood was blinking with tiny snowflakes and the moonlight. Very few activity happens at the North Pole. When Christmas or the season comes around all the animals and Yetis go and wander around with their mates or children. But it's summer in the human world so there has been zero activity since fall has gotten warmer. 

But that doesn't mean the forest is off-limits.

"Come on, we're miss it!"

Two elves were outside the factory of the North Pole and heading to the Winter Wonderland Wood. One of them, Missy Bonbon (Or Miss. Bonbon), was faster than the other one; Bernard Evergreen. Bernard and Missy were head elves.

But it wasn't always them, Bernard used to run the whole thing, but after a hundred years of leading a building the size of the white house but x2 with 110,000 elves it got tiring. So, Missy was there to run the South Wing which focused on the sweets and decorations while Bernard ran the North Wing which focused on the toys and Santa. 

"I'm comin' Bonbon, you walk way too fast for someone your height." Bernard was walking behind the female elf with his brown, warn trench coat that he wore over his knitted grampa sweater gingerly grazing the white icy blanket with two footprints, his and hers.

"Hey, I am your height and you know it. I used to be taller than you when we first met." She could hear a chuckle from behind, she looked over her shoulder and saw him walking up. When he was face to face with her he placed his hands on his hips as he looked down at the curly pale-haired elf.

"Look at that, I'm taller." He leans down but stays a respectful distance from her face, his hat tipping forward a bit. Gingerbread. he thought. She smelled like gingerbread, his favorite smell in the whole North Pole. "You have gingerbread batter on your cheek."

"I do?" Her naturally flushed face had gotten pinker from realizing that yes, she did have batter on her cheek.

"Yeah." He huffed out a giggle at her reaction, she wiped off the batter and it was already dry, crumbling at her fingertips. "Heh, oops-" She brushes the crumbled batter on her apron and pats her hands down to straighten out. Afterward, Bernard holds her gloved hand in his and gives her a smile that can melt anyone's heart, a Yetis and even Jack Frosts. 

"Alright, let's head on and watch the Northern Lights, we don't wanna miss 'em right?" Missy makes eye contact with the North Wing Head Elf, she smiles and squeezes his hand gently. The two began to walk into the snowy Woods with only each other for company and frankly, that's all they needed.

They only needed each other to watch the beautiful lights.

[playhousemassacrez]

Poppy Playtime headcanons I made! (Part 2)

Pink is for AU, blue is for canon and purple is for random things that don't make sense, but I thought it would to me.

Huggy often acts like a cat. Whenever he hisses, cleans his fur with his hand or looking like those funny cat meme pictures.

Stella is Dutch. Her family moved to America in 1964.

The reason why Poppy's eyes are bloodshot and red because it’s actually her real eyes being used.

Kissy knows how to knit.

Bron is the oldest of the toys and Baby Long Legs is the youngest.

Despite having intelligence, Huggy can’t help himself from being the “king of stupid”, or whatever Mommy claims him as.

Huggy knows how to play the ukulele.

Skittles is Huggy's favorite candy.

Kissy knows how to do yoga.

The toys often treat Poppy like a baby, even though she clearly hated it. It wasn’t their fault. They just wanted to keep her safe.

Baby Long Legs is three years old, despite being a "baby".

Patty was demoted after “sabotaging” the paint machine. That’s when she met Rich and fell in love with him.

Cat-Bee thinks she’s an actual bee.

Poppy always finds ways to get dirty.

The toys hate to be called "monsters".

Cassie Cutie-Pillar is PJ's owner after she was taken and was experimented on.

The new owner of Playtime Co. took over the company after Elliot passed away. His name was Edward.

The toys have human stomachs so they can eat. Dr. Harvey says it was made to “tailor” their appetite. But it’s not the case.

Poppy always wants to look her best.

Bron was going to be orange, but Elliot was colorblind, so Playtime Co. changed Bron's color to red.

Marie never had extreme night terrors ever since she was brought to Playtime Co. until CatNap was brought to Home Sweet Home.

The reason why Huggy is seen with a yellow bow on his “Remember to take breaks!” poster than his blue bow is because that’s what Playtime Co. had for the cartoon series that only ran for three seasons in the early 90’s before the studio that made the cartoon, and the Smiling Critters cartoon went defunct after the recall of CatNap.

Marie is very flexible at such a young age. Playtime Co. thought that this was a homage to their new toy at the time.

Candy Cat gets sick whenever she eats too much candy.

Poppy doesn’t like Mommy that much sometimes. She's sometimes scared of her.

After Poppy was successful, Playtime Co. made more dolls like Poppy. These include a black Poppy named Violet, a Chinese Poppy named Lily Lee and a male Poppy named Ben Bluebell. These many Poppy variations never saw the light of day.

Stella and Claire knew each other in college.

When Huggy escaped the factory for the first time, he was so confused and scared by everything he saw, like seeing trees taller than him and grass. The only time he saw these things around him were in picture books or drawings the children made.

Marie was the big sister type and the kids looked up to her a lot since they saw her as the older sister some of them never had. Some kids would even try to comfort her when she has her night terrors.

Stella joined Playtime Co. because she liked the idea of being a part of so many children’s upbringings by providing them with the toys that would shape them.

Rich struggles with regulating his volume. He knows there’s a volume rule, he just never knows how loud he’s being.

Bunzo's teeth are actually not that sharp. They're like puppy teeth.

The Poppy dolls are made of some form of porcelain or china.